Chapter XII. I Get Promoted.

Chapter One.

My Birth and Education.

From my earliest days I have been known as Jovial Jack Junker. I got

the name, I believe, from always being in good humour, and seeing the

bright side of things. Whatever I ate did me good, and I never had had

an hour’s sickness in my life; while if things happened to go wrong one

day, I knew they would go right the next. People said I was of a happy

disposition; I suppose I was. I always felt inclined to be singing or

whistling, and when I did not, it was because I knew I ought to keep

silence—in church, for instance, or in the presence of my elders, who

happened to be engaged in conversation. Still, I was not born, as the

saying is, with a silver spoon in my mouth, nor did I possess any great

worldly advantages. I did not trouble myself much about the future, I

must confess that. If I got what I wanted, I was contented; if not, I

expected to get it the next day or the day after. I could wait; I

always found something to amuse me in the meantime. My father was a

marine—a man well known to fame, though not the celebrated “Cheeks.” He

was known as Sergeant Junker. He had several small sons and

daughters—young Junkers—and when I was about twelve years of age, he

was left an inconsolable widower by the untimely death of our

inestimable mother. She was an excellent woman, and had brought us up,

to the best of her ability, in a way to make us good and useful members

of society. She was indeed a greater loss to us than to our poor

father; for, as my elder brother Simon observed, as he rubbed his eyes,

moist with tears, with the back of his hand—

“You see, Jack, father can go and get another wife, as many do; but we

can’t get another mother like her that is gone, that we can’t, nohow.”

No more thorough testimony could have been given to the virtues of our

mother. She was a superior woman in many respects, and she was of a

very respectable family, and had a nice little fortune of her own; but

she had the common weakness of her sex, and fell in love with the

handsome face of our honest, worthy father, Ben Junker the marine, at

the time a private in that noble corps. She did not like his name, but

she loved him, and overcame her prejudice. He could, at the period I

speak of, scarcely read or write; but she set to work to educate him,

and so far succeeded, that, being a very steady man, he rose in due

course to be a sergeant. She had the ambition of hoping to see him

obtain a commission; but he used to declare that, if he did, nothing

would make him more unhappy, as he should feel exactly like a fish out

of water. He was thus, at the time of which I am speaking, still a

sergeant. Our mother, in consequence of the income she enjoyed, was

able to give her children a much better education than we should

otherwise probably have obtained. At the time of her death, it would

have been difficult to find in our rank of life a more happy,

contented, and better-conducted family. Our father, as I have said, was

at first inconsolable; but he was of a happy, contented disposition, as

it is very necessary that marines, as well as other people, should be—a

disposition which I fortunately inherited from him. He took the rough

with the smooth in life, as a matter of course. A favourite song of

his, which he used to hum, was—

“What’s the use of sighing,

While time is on the wing?

Oh! what’s the use of crying?

Then merrily, merrily sing

Fa! la!”

Consequently, as Simon said he knew he would, he began in a short time

to look out for another wife; and, unhappily for us, fixed on a widow

with a family. She was, however, a very amiable woman; in fact, her

great fault was, that she was too amiable, too soft and yielding. She

could not manage to rule her own family, and a most uproarious,

mutinous set they were. From the time they came to the house there was

no peace or quiet for anyone else. They, indeed, soon took to try and

rule over us with a high hand. Her girls used to come it over our

girls, and her boys over our boys. Brother Simon, who was bigger and

stronger than her eldest, more than once threatened that he would

thrash them all round, if they had any more nonsense, and that

invariably made our poor stepmother burst into tears, and plead so hard

for her rebellious offspring, that the good, honest fellow had not the

heart to put his threat into execution. At last some of us could stand

it no longer. As Simon was old enough, he went one day, without saying

anything to anybody, and enlisted in the marines. Bill, our second

brother, got our father to apprentice him to a ship-carpenter; and,

after no little trouble and coaxing, he promised to let me go on board

a man-of-war. He did so, however, very unwillingly.

“You don’t know the sort of life that you will have to lead aboard

ship, Jack,” he observed. “Boys afloat are not the happy-go-lucky sort

of chaps they seem on shore, let me tell you; but, to be sure, they

have got discipline there, which is more than I can say there is to be

found in a certain place that you know of.” And my father uttered a

deep sigh.

We were walking, one evening after tea, up and down our bit of a

garden, while he smoked his pipe. He was allowed to live out of

barracks, and we had a small cottage a little way off.

“I don’t know, Jack, but what I should not be sorry, if my company was

ordered on service afloat,” he observed, confidentially, after a

minute’s silence. “Your new mother is a good woman—a very good woman;

about her I made no mistake, though she is not equal, by a long chalk,

to her that’s gone; but oh! Jack,” and he sighed again, “I did not take

into account those young cubs of hers. They will not rest till they

have driven your sisters out of the house, as they have driven the

boys; and then—and then—why, I suppose, they will drive me away too!”

My poor father! I sighed at the thoughts of his domestic happiness

being so completely destroyed, in consequence of the advice of King

Solomon not having been followed—the rod having been spared, and the

children spoiled.

The following day, my father being sent on duty to Portsea, took me

with him. Soon after we landed, I met, just on the inner end of the

Common Hard, an old friend of mine, Dick Lee, a waterman.

“Father,” I said, “if Dick will let me, I’ll stop, and have a pull in

his wherry. As I am going to sea, I should like to learn to row better

than I now do.”

My father, glad to keep me out of harm’s way, told me that, if Dick

wished it, I might remain with him. Well pleased, I ran down the Hard,

and jumped into old Dick’s wherry. Dick intended that I should sit in

his boat, and just practise with the oars, but I had no notion of that

sort; so, casting off the painter, I shoved away from the shore. I kept

pulling up and down for some time, and round and round, till my arms

ached; when, determining to take a longer voyage, I turned the boat’s

head out into the harbour. The tide was running out: I went on very

swimmingly, I did not think of that. I had not, however, got very far,

when I heard old Dick’s voice shouting to me—

“Come back, Jack, come back, you young jackanapes!”

Dick was in a rage, no doubt about that. I pulled round, and in spite

of all my efforts could make no headway. Dick shouted, and swore, but

to no purpose. I might have cracked my sinews with pulling, but still

the boat would keep drifting down and down, running a great risk of

getting athwart-hawse of some of the vessels moored a dozen yards below

me. At last, Dick did what he might as well have done at first—stepped

into another boat with his mate, and came after me. He soon brought me

back as a prize. His temper was in no way soothed, though I cried out,

again and again, I could not help it.

“Jump ashore now, lad,” he said, as we touched the Hard. “Next time

you’ll do what I tell you you may do. I never said you might go and run

the chance of getting the boat stove in, and yourself drownded. I keeps

my family in order, whatever other people may do.”

Obeying old Dick, I stood disconsolately on the Hard, while he took his

fare on board, and pulled away across to Gosport, without deigning to

waste another word on me. However, I soon recovered my spirits, and

amused myself making an excursion over the huge logs of timber that

occupy a considerable space in that nook of the harbour.

I was running along on the more steady pieces of timber which formed

the boundary of the pond, when I saw a boy in a boat, placed very much

in the position from which I had just escaped. In vain he attempted to

stem the tide. He was evidently not accustomed to a boat. He looked

round, and saw that the boat was drifting towards the cable of a vessel

moored off the Hard. I shouted out to him to pull hard with his

starboard oar; but, instead of so doing, he jumped up, and caught hold

of the cable, across which the boat had just then come, letting go at

the same time one of his oars, which fell overboard. He now clung to

the chain, and the current swept the boat away from under his feet.

“Hold on! hold on, for your life!” I shouted out; but, instead of so

doing, he let go, expecting to regain his boat. He tried to swim, but

he was evidently a bad swimmer. I looked round. No boat was near. I saw

there was every chance of his being drowned. I was a capital swimmer;

so, hoping to save the lad, I plunged in, and followed him. Just as I

was taking the leap, I caught sight of old Dick, coming across the

harbour. I shouted at the very top of my voice, pointing to the place

where the boy was floating away. This gave me some hopes that we should

be picked up. I soon saw that I had miscalculated the distance, for the

boy seemed a very, very long way off. I had very little hopes of

helping him, and thought it very likely I should get drowned myself,

when I saw a hawser, somewhat slack, stretched across the course down

which the boy was drifting. “If he has got any sense, he will catch

hold of it,” I thought. How thankful I felt when I saw him grasp it! As

I got near, he cried out—

“Help! help! I can hold on no longer!”

“Hold on, whatever you do?” I cried out. “Oh dear! oh dear!” he shouted

again, “what will become of the boat? what will become of the boat?”

He was evidently getting somewhat stupid and confused. I redoubled my

efforts, and grasping the hawser with one hand, caught hold of his

jacket with the other, just as he was relaxing his grasp.

“Now, stupid!” I cried out, “just catch hold of this rope again, and

hold on! You don’t want to get drowned, do you?”

“No, I don’t; but you had no business to call me stupid,” he exclaimed,

in an indignant tone.

“If you go and get drowned when there’s no need of it, you are stupid,”

I answered; “but if you will hold on tight, till Dick comes and takes

us off, I will say something for you.”

My arguments had some effect, for hold on tight he did, I helping him

by the collar of his jacket. I had enough to do, however, to keep him

and myself afloat, as well as to hold on at the same time. It seemed to

me that old Dick was a long time coming. At last I shouted out.

“Ay, ay!” answered his well-known voice, and at last I saw the bow of

his boat coming round from under the stern of a vessel above us.

No one was on the decks of any of the vessels round us, which was the

reason, I suppose, that we were allowed to hang on there so long by

ourselves.

“Well, what mischief have you been after?” asked old Dick, as he hauled

the other boy and me afterwards out of the water. “Well, you do look

like two drownded rats?”

“He has been after no mischief at all!” exclaimed the other boy, who,

in spite of his recent alarm, had not lost his spirits.

“He jumped into the water to save my life, and he has saved it; and I

am sure my papa and mamma will not think it was any mischief, but will

be ready to thank him very heartily, as I do.”

“And who are you, young gentleman?” asked old Dick. “What business had

you to be tumbling into the water?”

He had begun to pull up the harbour, I should say, placing us in the

stern sheets while he was asking these questions.

“Who am I? you want to know who I am?” said the young gentleman, who

was employed in squeezing the wet out of his clothes; “I am Richard

Alfred Chesterton Plumb,” answered the boy, standing up and assuming an

air of dignity; “and I did not tumble into the water, but my boat got

away from me, and I tried to get after it; and that reminds me that she

is floating down the harbour; and so, old gentleman, I will just

trouble you to go in chace of her and try to bring her back.”

“Ho! ho! ho!” exclaimed old Dick; “some young bantams do crow loud.

Howsomdever, there is spirit in the lad, no doubt about that!”

“Well, old man,” again asked the young gentleman, “are you going after

my boat?”

Old Dick did not deign an answer; but, looking away down the harbour,

espied the boat, and, pulling round, made chase after her. We were soon

up to her, and Master Richard, as he called himself, wanted to be put

aboard again.

“I can row about till I am dry,” he observed. “What’s the odds?”

However, as there was only one oar remaining, this was an

impossibility.

“You will only go and get yourself drownded again,” said the old man,

“and catch your death of cold sitting in your wet things into the

bargain. So you just come up to my missus, and she will give you a hot

cup of tea and dry your duds, and then Jack here and I will see you

safe home to your friends.”

I have a notion that old Dick was afraid the young master might forget

all about the service which had been rendered him, and having an eye to

the main chance, he was resolved that I should receive a reward—he

himself hoping probably to obtain some remuneration also for his

trouble. On our way back young Master Richard, who was in no way

disconcerted, espied the missing oar, which had been caught in an eddy,

and drifted in towards the shore. We got hold of it, and he now seemed

perfectly happy. We both looked very foolish, I thought, as dripping

wet we followed old Dick up to his house. The old woman had our clothes

very soon off us, and tumbled us both into their bed. The young

gentleman whispered to me that it was not very nice, but I was in no

way particular.

“It will not do to be ungrateful. I would bear anything, rather than

show I did not like it,” he added, still whispering.

He at last got rather impatient, and singing out, asked Dick if he

would go and buy him a new suit at Selby’s, the tailor’s in High

Street.

The old man laughed.

“I’ve got no credit there, young gentleman,” he answered. “Maybe, too,

your friends would not be quite pleased. Your clothes will be dry

enough in time; and, there now, the water’s boiling, and you shall have

a bowl of tea hot enough to take the skin off your mouths.”

The steaming liquid was soon brought to us, and after drinking it,

Master Richard said he felt as warm and comfortable as he had ever done

in his life. He was only anxious to be off. At length, however, the

warmth and closeness of the room sent us both off into a sound sleep.

We were awoke by old Dick’s voice.

“Well, lads,” he said, “are you ready to put on your clothes, and come

along to young master’s friends? I have seen your father, Jack. He

knows all about them, and says it is all right. He tells me, Jack,” he

whispered, “they’re no end of grand people, so I hope you have stepped

into the right boat this time.”

I could not exactly understand the meaning of my old friend’s remarks,

but I saw that he was well pleased. Old Mrs Lee pressed some more tea

and bread and butter on us, and had a sausage frying in the pan. I was

not sorry to get it; but, after taking a few mouthfuls, the young

gentleman said he was very grateful, but that he had had enough, and

that he expected to find dinner when he got home.

“I could not have eaten another mouthful, even if the old woman had

threatened to throw me into the frying-pan,” he observed, as we left

the house, “but I did not like to hurt her feelings.”

I had eaten up the remainder of the sausage, so I benefited by Master

Richard’s delicacy of stomach.

Chapter Two.

My First Start.

We crossed the water to Gosport, and took our way along the road which

led past the small row in which we lived. I inquired on my way of old

Dick, if he knew who the young gentleman’s father was.

“They say he’s a nabob,” answered old Dick, “but what a nabob is, I’m

sure I don’t know, except that he’s a yellow-faced gentleman, with lots

of money, and always complaining of his liver.”

Having received this lucid explanation to my question, I rejoined my

young companion. I thought I might learn more about the matter from

him.

“They say your father is a nabob; is he?” I asked.

“A nabob? No,” he answered. “He is a great deal more important

person—he is a brigadier; at least he was in India, and mamma always

speaks of him as the Brigadier, and people always talk of her as Mrs

Brigadier.”

“Then I suppose you are the young Brigadier?” I said, very naturally.

“No, indeed, I am not,” he answered. “But there is the house. And, I

say, I am very much obliged to you, remember, for what you have done

for me. I see you are up to joking; but let me advise you not to come

any of your jokes over my father, or mamma either. Indeed, you had

better rather try it with him than with her. You would think twice

before you ever made the attempt again.”

Passing through an iron gateway, we proceeded up to the house, which

was some little way from the road. It was low, with a broad verandah

round it, and I found was known as Chuttawunga Bungalow. I saw the name

on the side-post of the gateway. A tall, dark-skinned man, dressed in

white, a broad-rimmed cap on his head, came to the door. He seemed

rather doubtful as to admitting old Dick and me.

“Here, Chetta, let us in at once!” exclaimed the young gentleman in an

authoritative tone. “These are my friends. They have rendered me an

essential service. The boy saved my life when I was drowning, and the

old man pulled us both out of the water, when we could not hold on much

longer. Where is my papa? And, I say, Chetta, do not go and tell Mrs

Brigadier just yet. I would rather have the matter over with one of

them first.”

I felt rather awe-struck at having to go into the presence of so great

a man, for I had pictured him as a tall, ferocious-looking personage,

with a huge moustache and a military air and manner. Great was my

astonishment when I saw, seated in an arm-chair, cross-legged, with one

foot resting on a foot-stool, a small man with yellow hair, thin

cheeks, and habited in a silk dressing-gown and nankeen trousers.

“Why, Richard Alfred Chesterton!” he exclaimed in a sharp, querulous

tone, “where have you been all this time? It is as well your mother had

to go out, or she would have been thrown into a state of great alarm;

and something else, I suspect, too,” he said, in a lower tone.

“Well, papa,” answered Richard, when the brigadier had ceased speaking,

“you would not address me harshly, if you knew how very nearly you were

having the misery of losing me altogether. It is a long story, so I

will not now enter into details. It will be sufficient for you to know

that I was in a boat, and that out of that boat I fell into the

dangerous current of the harbour; and had it not been for the bravery

and gallantry of this young lad whom I have brought with me, I should

have been at this moment food for the fish in the Solent sea, or a fit

subject for a coroner’s inquest, had my body been discovered.”

The brigadier opened his grey eyes wider and wider, as the boy

continued speaking.

“And, papa, we must not forget this old boatman, too, who pulled the

boy and me—what’s your name? Ay; Jack Junker—out of the water.” Thus

Master Dicky ran on.

“Well, my boy, I am thankful to see you safe, and I wish to express my

gratitude to the brave lad, Jack Junker, who saved your life, and to

the old man who pulled you out of the water. My friends, I must consult

Mrs Brigadier Plumb, how I can best show you my gratitude. I always do

consult her on all important matters. Till then I hope you will remain

in this house. I am too great an invalid to talk much to you, but my

son will do his best to make amends for my deficiencies.”

On this Master Richard went up and whispered something in his father’s

ear.

“Will one or two do?” I heard the brigadier ask.

“No, no, father, do it handsomely. To be sure, he ran no risk, but it

was the way he did it; and I rather think he looks for some

remuneration.”

On this the brigadier shuffled off his chair, and opening his

writing-desk, took out a bank note.

“Here, my friend,” he said to old Dick, “I should like to pay you for

the loss of time, and the expense you have been put to, for this

youngster, so accept these few pounds. I hope to show my sense of what

you have done, more heartily by-and-by.”

I saw old Dick’s eyes sparkle. He had probably expected a sovereign at

the outside.

“Jack,” he whispered to me, as we left the room, “you are in luck; for,

if he pays me five pounds for just picking that young shrimp out of the

water, he will certainly do a good deal more for you who saved his

life.”

Master Richard soon overtook us, and then insisted on showing us over

the house—into the drawing-room, and dining-room, and

breakfast-parlour, and into several of the bedrooms, then down into the

servants’ hall. I had never been in such a fine house in my life

before. And then he took us out into the garden, and walked us all

round, showing us the fruit-trees in blossom, and the beautiful

flowers.

“My mamma will be home soon,” he observed, “and my two sisters. I want

her to see the brigadier first, because, you see, although it was a

very fine thing in you to pick me out of the water, I had no business

to tumble into it, or, indeed, to be in a boat at all. The brigadier

did not see that, but she will. She keeps us all precious strict, I can

tell you. I have several brothers—the eldest is in the army, and two

are away at school. I have not quite settled what I am going to be. I

should not object to go into the navy, but then I should like to be

made an admiral or a post-captain at once. I have no particular taste

for the army, and as for the law, or several other things, I would as

soon dig potatoes, or go shrimping; and thus, you see, the navy is the

only profession likely to suit me, or I am likely to suit.”

Old Dick cocked his eye, as he heard young master’s remarks.

“I rather think he must be changed a bit before he is suited to the

navy, however much he may think the navy will suit him; and there I

have an idea he will be pretty considerably mistaken,” he whispered to

me.

The young gentleman had evidently caught the habit of a pompous style

of speaking from Mrs Brigadier, as I afterwards discovered. It sounded

somewhat ridiculous, especially from the mouth of so small a chap. I

had reason to suspect that he now and then, too, made curious mistakes;

though of course, not very well able to detect them myself.

At last an open carriage drove up to the door, with a curly-wigged

coachman on the box, and two dark-skinned servants standing behind,

dressed like the one who had opened the door. Inside was a very tall

lady, sitting bolt upright, with two considerably smaller young ladies

opposite to her. Young master told old Dick and me not to make any

noise, lest she should see us, as we were watching their arrival

through the shrubbery. She got out with a dignified air, resting on one

of the black servants, and strode into the house. The two young ladies

followed demurely in her wake. She was exactly what I should have

expected the brigadier to be, only she wore petticoats, and a bonnet

instead of a cocked hat. In a short time the servant appeared, and

summoned young master into the house. He quickly appeared, and beckoned

us from a window to come in. I did not see the meeting of the mother

and son, but I know when I entered she stretched out her arms, and gave

me a kiss on the brow.

“You have rendered me an essential service, young lad,” she exclaimed,

in a voice well calculated to hail the maintop in a gale at sea, or to

shout “Advance!” at the head of a regiment in action. “I wish to show

my gratitude, but how can I do so?”

“And you—” and she looked towards old Dick, who drew back; and I really

heard him say—

“Oh, don’t!”

He thought she was going to salute him as she had me.

“You took them into your boat; you preserved them from catching cold: I

am grateful—very grateful!” and I saw her fumble in the deep recesses

of a side-pocket.

“My dear,” whispered the brigadier, “I have already bestowed a

pecuniary recompense.”

“You have!” she said turning round sharply, “without consulting me?”

This was said in an intended low voice, but I heard it.

“Well,” she said, “money cannot repay you for the service you have

performed. But you have found your way to this house. Come again

to-morrow, and by that time I will have considered how I can best show

my gratitude.”

“Thank you, marm!” answered old Dick, evidently very glad to get away.

“Shall I take Jack with me? he lives over on this side, and I can drop

him at his home as I go back to Gosport.”

“If you so think fit, my friend,” answered Mrs Brigadier; “and if the

boy—by-the-by, what is your name?” she asked.

“Jack Junker,” I replied; and I told her that my father was a sergeant.

“Jack Junker? Yes, if you wish to go, Jack,” she answered. “I also then

shall have time to consider how I can best express my gratitude.

Farewell?”

She put out her hand, and shook old Dick’s; but I thought, as she spoke

to me, her manner was considerably colder than it had been at first.

Old Dick and I left the room, and the door was closed behind us.

“I doubt her,” whispered old Dick to me. “I am glad the old gentleman,

however, gave me the five pounds. It was handsome in him. But Jack, my

boy, I suspect you will have to rest satisfied with having saved the

life of a fellow-creature; though, as you were the means of my gaining

this, I think I must hand over half to you, as your share.”

To this, of course, I would not consent; and somewhat disappointed,

perhaps, I accompanied my old friend through the hall, having the

honour of being salaamed to most profoundly by the dark-skinned

domestics. We walked slowly, and had not got very far, when I heard

footsteps coming behind us. Turning round, I saw Master Richard running

with all his might.

“Here, Jack?” he said, “the Brigadier gave me this, and told me to hand

it over to you. My mother was out of the room at the time, so do not

say anything about it to her. She will show you her gratitude in some

other way. I do not mean to say it is as much as I should like to have

offered you; but here, be quick I put it into your pocket, or we may be

seen from the house.”

“Don’t be a fool, Jack!” said old Dick, seeing I hesitated. “It’s

justly yours, boy, and let them settle the matter as they think best.”

“Good-bye, Jack!” said young master, shaking me by the hand.

“Good-bye!” he added, taking old Dick’s rough paw. “We are a curious

set; but I say, do not refuse anything you can get. If you want any

interest exerted, then boldly ask my mother. She will do that in a way

which overcomes all difficulties. If she wanted to make me Archbishop

of Canterbury, she would work away till she had done it, if she

happened to live long enough.”

Old Dick dropped me at my home. There was a tremendous noise going on,

created by my stepmother’s children. She was crying out and imploring

them to be quiet, and they were squabbling and crying and abusing each

other. The big ones had appropriated the little ones’ toys, or other

property, and all the poor woman could do they would not restore the

articles, while the young ones were crying to get them back, every now

and then making a rush at their bigger brothers and sisters, and

getting a box on the ear in return. My appearance rather increased than

quelled the commotion. Tommy, the biggest, asked me in a threatening

way where I had been, and of course I was not going to answer him; so

he doubled his fist, and, had I not stood on my guard, he would

certainly have hit me, but he thought better of it. Just at that moment

my father returned off duty, full of my performances, of which old Dick

had told him all particulars. He was very indignant with Tom.

“Is this the way, you young ruffian, you treat a brave lad who has been

saving the life of a fellow-creature, and that fellow-creature the son

of a brigadier? Do you know what a brigadier is, you young jackanapes,

eh?” he exclaimed, giving way for once to anger, of which he was very

seldom guilty. His remarks silenced all the party, who, of course, were

then eager enough to learn what I had done and what had happened. My

poor stepmother embraced me warmly, and tears fell from her eyes as she

glanced round on her own disorderly offspring. For the rest of the

evening they behaved better.

My father was well pleased on hearing of the brigadier’s gift, for the

purse contained ten sovereigns.

“It’s very liberal,” he said; “for though I suppose he thinks his son’s

life worth more than that, yet, from what you tell me, no doubt it is

as much as he dared to give; yet I can tell you, from what I have

heard, that that shrivelled-up yellow-faced old fellow was as plucky an

officer as ever saw service.”

My father would not let me go back to the Bungalow.

“You have done your duty, Jack, and you have received a present, which

you must lay by for a rainy day; and if the brigadier’s lady wants to

show her maternal gratitude, it’s her business to find you out.”

I thought probably that young master would take care to see something

more of me. I liked his manner; for although there was a good deal of

seeming bombast and pretension about him, I had an idea he was sterling

at bottom—a plucky little chap, just as his father had been. This

circumstance had in no way put aside my wish to go to sea. I kept

talking about it whenever I had an opportunity.

“I see how it is,” sighed my father; “you are right, Jack. The way Tom

stood up to you just now showed me that your old home is not as

pleasant as it should be.”

“Then you will let me go, will you not, father?” I said.

The fact was, it was a very different thing for him to talk about

letting me go, and to ship me off. He hummed and hesitated, and said he

thought I had better wait till I was a year older, or till he himself

was sent to sea.

“Oh, but that may not be for a long time, father; and what should I do

with myself till then?” I exclaimed.

“I am not quite so sure that it will be a long time, Jack,” he

answered, with a sigh.

“Once upon a time my only wish was to remain on shore, but times are

changed. I don’t want to say a word against my present wife. She is a

good woman; an excellent woman; but somehow or other she does not

manage to keep the house as quiet as it might be; and those children of

hers are terribly unlicked cubs.”

I agreed with him there. “They want to be under the management of Mrs

Brigadier for a few months,” I observed; “I rather think that she would

not be long in bringing them into order.”

“You are right, Jack. But I have seen her, and with all her

perfections, I would not swop my present wife with her on any account.”

My father gave a shudder. “Well, Jack,” he said, “there’s an old friend

of mine—Sergeant Turbot—whose company has been appointed to the

_Roarer_, fitting out for the East India Station, alongside the Topaze

sheer hulk.”

“Well, father,” I said, “though I should like to go with you, yet I

fancy that ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush;’ and, if you

will let me, I’ll go with Sergeant Turbot. He will look after me and

keep me out of mischief, and stand my friend, if I want one. I should

not like to lose the opportunity.”

“Well, well, I see how it is, home is too hot for you,” sighed my poor

father. “To-morrow morning, please Heaven! I will take you on board,

and see what Turbot has to say to the matter. If he’s agreeable, why

there won’t be much difficulty in getting you rated as one of the boys

aboard.”

My father was as good as his word, and at an early hour the next

morning we embarked in a wherry, and pulled alongside the _Roarer_.

When I got on board, and while standing with my father waiting for

Sergeant Turbot, who was on duty, it seemed to me as if every man and

boy in the ship had gone stark staring mad, rushing and rolling about,

tumbling over each other, shouting and bawling at the top of their

voices. Presently I heard a ferocious-looking hairy monster of a man

growl out, in a voice loud enough to wake a dozen midshipmen, however

fast asleep they might have been, “Up all steerage hammocks?” the

shrill sound of his whistle piercing through my head. I had been on

board men-of-war before when there was no duty going on, and all was

quiet and in order. If I had not had hold of my father’s hand, I think

I should have gone down the side again into the wherry. In reality,

however, it was only Ned Rawlings performing an ordinary piece of

morning duty—as gentle and tender-hearted a fellow as ever stepped, in

spite of his gruff voice and hairy face, and the “cat” he had sometimes

to wield. I have a notion, that every time he laid on that cat, he felt

it as acutely as the culprit on whom it was deservedly inflicted. I

still felt something like a fish in a tub, trying to escape the dangers

I supposed surrounded me, when Sergeant Turbot came along the main

deck. He laughed heartily, till his fat sides shook again, when he saw

my affrighted countenance, and my father told him I could not make out

the cause of all the uproar.

“Why, the men are pretty quiet,” he observed; “they’re pretty much like

this at all times, except when they’re sleeping, or at mess, or at

quarters.”

My father told him our object.

“That I will, Junker,” he observed at once. “I am sure you would look

after a boy of mine if I had one, and I will look after yours. I cannot

teach him much seamanship, but I’ll give a hint to those who can, and

I’ll look after him, and see that he gets into no mischief, as long as

I am in the ship. We are going out to a somewhat trying climate though,

and men of my figure are apt to suffer, I am told.”

He cast a momentary glance over himself. It was fortunate for Sergeant

Turbot that he was a marine, and still more that he had not to go

aloft. On board ship he could do his duty admirably, but on shore his

figure was decidedly against him. He was very stout. It was lucky for

me that he was so, for I could always find him when I wanted him. At

first, I thought that I could run away from him, if desirable; but in

that respect I was mistaken, for he could send after me, and have me

back pretty quickly. All being arranged, the sergeant undertook to

speak to the first-lieutenant; and he had me and my father up, and

asking him a few questions, told him to fill up different papers, which

he did forthwith, and I was regularly entered as a boy on board the

_Roarer_.

Chapter Three.

Life on the Roarer.

I went back with my father, and the remainder of the day was spent by

my stepmother in getting my outfit ready. It was an unusually good one,

in consequence of the brigadier’s gift.

“I don’t expect to hear much more about that,” observed my father.

“There is a good deal of talk about those sort of people; though, to be

sure, the old man and the young one have some feeling; still I don’t

see what good they could do you, Jack, even if they wished it. I should

not wish you put above your station; though, to be sure, your poor dear

mother was a lady herself, that she was, every inch of her, and too

good for me. However, Jack, there’s one thing I have got to counsel

you: do your duty, tell the truth, and never mind the sneers or

laughter of those who try to lead you astray. There is One in heaven

who will hear your prayers, and don’t you go and forget to tell Him

your wants, and ask Him to do what is best for you. And now, my boy,

you have my blessing; and I am sure, that good mother of yours—she

who’s gone I mean—will be looking down from wherever she is, and

watching over you, and praying for you, if so be she has the power; but

of that matter, I must own, I have no certain knowledge, only I do

think it’s the work she would like to be employed in, anyhow.”

The next morning I took an affectionate farewell of my brothers and

sisters, and very far from an affectionate one of the children of my

poor stepmother. She herself, however, wept bitterly, as I went out of

the house; my father, and a marine he had got from the barracks,

carrying my chest. It was not a very big one, as may be supposed. We

had got some distance from the house, when who should I see, scampering

after us, and well out of breath, than the young Master Richard.

“Oh, Jack!” he exclaimed, “where are you going? I wanted to come

yesterday, but could not, because my mother took me to see the

Port-Admiral, and all sorts of other naval authorities. I wanted, as I

told you, to go to sea, and she seems to think it’s a very good place

for me to go to. She says that as I have been so nearly drowned once, I

am not likely to be drowned again; that it’s much less expensive than

being in the dragoons, and, in fact, she made up her mind that to sea I

was to go. Somehow or other she and the naval big-wigs have settled it,

and I am to go on board the old _Roarer_, which is to sail, in a short

time, for the East Indies.”

“That’s the very ship I have joined,” I answered.

“Is it? How jolly! but are you to be a midshipman?”

“No,” I answered, “I am only rated as a boy on board.”

“Oh! I suppose there is no great difference. I do not know much about a

ship, or the ways of a ship. I am to have a fine new uniform, and a

dirk, and a chest full of no end of things. Well, we shall know more

about it by-and-by; but I was forgetting what I came for. I wanted you

to come up to the house. My father wants to talk to you, and my sisters

want to see you; to make much of you, I fancy, but that might be a

bore. But, I say, let those two soldiers take your chest aboard, and

present your compliments to the captain, and say you will come

by-and-by.”

My father and his companion, on hearing this, burst out laughing.

“I have a notion, young master,” said my father, “that that would not

do for Jack. Much obliged to you all the same; but you are likely to be

in one station, and he in another, so I am afraid the kindness you

intend him will not do him any good. I promised to take him on board

the _Roarer_ this morning, and I shall have to go on duty again very

soon; so once more I have to thank you, and wish you good morning!”

Master Plumb seemed rather astonished at this answer.

“Rather a proud chap that soldier,” he said to me. “I should have taken

him for an officer, if he had not been carrying the box. Who is it?”

“My father,” I answered.

“Oh, that’s it,” he observed. “Well, Jack, I wish you could come, but

if you cannot, I must take your excuses; though I am sure the captain

would not be angry, if you sent him a polite message.”

“My father knows better than I do,” I answered; “and I have not seen

the captain, so I must go. I am very sorry, for I should like to have

come with you.”

Master Richard wrung my hand very warmly, and most unwillingly went

back towards his home. How Sergeant Turbot did laugh when we got on

board, and my father told him what had happened. He advised me not to

give Master Richard’s message. My father, having left me under charge

of the sergeant, took his departure. He came on board, however, several

times in old Dick’s wherry.

“I don’t ask you to come home, my boy,” he said, “for I have not got

the heart to go through that parting business again. Besides, Jack, the

home is not as comfortable as it should be. Perhaps, however, when you

come back, four or five years hence, things will have mended. And you

will not forget your father, Jack, and I’m sure you won’t her that’s

gone.”

These remarks were made the last time I saw my worthy father before the

ship went out of harbour. I, in time, got accustomed to the ways of a

ship, or, rather, to the ways of the men. It was rather curious, at

first, to see a number of big fellows standing round a tub or basin,

all washing themselves in the same water; one toothbrush, if they were

particular enough to have such a thing, and one comb, serving for the

whole party. Only a few, however, of the cleanest men used the former

article. Still, things were somewhat trying to a young chap. When the

ship appeared to have got a little quiet, suddenly, as I was seated

near Sergeant Turbot, I heard a sharp whistle and a ferocious growl,

which made me jump off the bench. “All hands on deck?” or some such

cry, were the words which followed the whistle.

“Who is that growling out?” I asked of the sergeant.

“That is one of our licensed growlers,” was the answer. “It’s his

business to growl; he is paid for it. Seamen are fond enough of

growling generally, but they get nothing when they do, though they

growl till they are hoarse.”

Now, as I said, I had been aboard all sorts of ships in ordinary, or in

the dockyard, but never before on board one fitting-out. When,

therefore, I stepped on deck after the men, I was perfectly confounded;

and the scene of confusion around me—such piping, and swearing, and

bawling, and shouting, swaying up yards, getting in guns and stores,

and pulling and hauling in all directions. Still, I made the best of

it; and, having my eyes about me, kept out of harm’s way, and stood

ready to try and do anything I was told to do. This went on till the

men knocked off work again, and the hubbub was concentrated on the main

and lower decks, especially round the galley-fire, where the cooks were

busy serving out dinners to the different messes. “It smells fine, at

all events,” I thought to myself, and would have made me hungry, if I

had not been so already. Then a marine struck a bell four times double,

which made eight bells, and the officer of the watch roared out, “Pipe

to dinner!” Didn’t the whistle of the boatswain and his men sound

shrilly then! The dishes being arranged on the mess-tables, which were

placed in rows along the decks, all hands fell to with a will; and I,

among the number, ate my first dinner aboard ship. In about an hour

there was another pipe, and the word “Grog!” was bawled out. Each man

went to receive his quantum of rum and water. The sergeant said that

rum was a bad thing for little boys, and drank mine for me. I now think

that he was right. I had as yet seen nothing of Master Plumb, and I

began to think that he was not coming after all. This did not concern

me, I own, very much; for, as he would be at one end of the ship and I

at the other, we should not exchange words very often, and I knew

pretty well, from what I had already seen, that he would soon get into

the ways of his messmates, and look down upon me, and swear and abuse

me, as some of the other young gentlemen were apt to do.

At last all stores were on board, the sails were bent, and, casting off

from the old hulk, we hauled out into the stream. The _Roarer_

certainly looked to greater advantage than she had hitherto done. The

next day decks were cleared, the men put on clean shirts and trousers,

the officers appeared in full fig, and the long-expected captain came

up the side.

“Butter won’t melt in his mouth,” I heard one of the seamen near me

observe.

“You think so?” remarked Ned Rawlings. “Now do you just get near, and

have a look at his eye, and you will sing a different song. It’s not

always the rough-and-ready looking chaps, like you and I, Tom, as are

the best men for work!”

Our captain certainly did look more fit for a ball-room, or a naval

officer in love on the stage, than for the deck of a man-of-war. He was

the most polished article about his whole ship. His whiskers were

curled; his cheeks were pink; the gold lace on his coat shone with

undimmed lustre, not a particle of dust rested on the fine cloth of

which it was made, while it fitted with perfection to his well-formed

figure. Kid gloves covered his hands, and a fine cambric handkerchief

appeared from his breast-pocket. He bowed to the flag, and he bowed to

the officers, as he cast a scrutinising glance round the deck. Some of

the older officers pulled rather long faces when they saw him. In a

short time, he ordered all hands to come aft, and then, in a clear,

somewhat soft voice, made a long speech. The sum total of it was, that

he was determined to have a crack ship, and a crack crew, and that he

did not like to use the lash, but that he did not always do what he

liked; still, that he always would have done what he wanted done. The

men could not quite make him out, nor could I; but I came to the

conclusion, that he was not just the sort of man to whom I should like

to carry such a message as Master Plumb had requested me to give.

Next day we went out to Spithead. No signs of my friend. I told

Sergeant Turbot that I thought Master Richard Plumb would not come

after all.

“Perhaps not,” he answered; “Mrs Brigadier does not like to part from

him, or maybe they are washing and combing him, and making him fit to

come aboard, which I suppose occupied the time of a certain person who

should be nameless, and prevented him joining us till yesterday. Maybe,

young master has thought better of the matter, and would rather go for

a parson, or one of those chaps as goes to foreign courts to bamboozle

the people.”

I, at all events, made up my mind that I should see no more of Master

Richard. However, scarcely had I come to this conclusion, than a large

wherry came alongside, and a card was sent up for the captain.

“Certainly,” he answered.

The boatswain’s mate whistled; the side boys were called away, I being

one of them, and we hastened to our posts on the accommodation-ladder.

There, in a boat, sat Mrs Brigadier, with the Brigadier on one side and

Master Richard on the other, and the two young ladies I had before

seen. Mrs Brigadier, putting her hand on the shoulder of one of the men

who was holding on the bow stepped up the accommodation-ladder with a

dignified air, followed humbly by the Brigadier. Then came the young

ladies. Young master followed his sisters in a spick-and-span new

uniform, looking especially well pleased at himself. As he came up he

espied me. That there was no pride in him, he showed by an inclination

to shake hands with me. But against this there were two reasons: first,

I should have fallen from my perch, and then it would have been

decidedly against nautical etiquette.

“Why, Jack, shall I have to do this sort of work?” he asked, as he

passed me.

“I think not, sir,” I answered, for I had learned to say “sir” to a

uniform. “I am a side boy, you are a midshipman.”

“Oh, ay, that makes a difference,” he observed, following up his

sisters; and I do believe he gave the last a pinch in the ankles, as he

pretended to keep down her petticoats, for she kicked out behind,

missing his nose, though, narrowly. The whole party were soon on deck,

where the captain stood to receive them, bowing with formal politeness

to Mrs Brigadier and to the Brigadier, as well as to the young ladies.

He cast a very different sort of glance at young master, who came up,

no way disconcerted, by the side of his father.

“We were anxious to see the last of our boy,” said Mrs Brigadier, for

the Brigadier seldom spoke much in her presence. “We wished also

properly to introduce him to you and to his brother officers. He is not

our only son, but he is our youngest son, and as such we naturally

prize him greatly. These are our two girls—Leonora and Euphemia. They

are not likely to leave us, unless at any time they should be destined

to make the home of some worthy man happy; but boys, Captain Sharpe,

must go out into the world, and Richard Alfred Chesterton does not find

himself an exception to the general rule. He desired to enter your

noble profession, and I am sure, Captain Sharpe, that you will watch

over him with paternal care; I trust by-and-by because you appreciate

his merits, but at present, as he is unknown to you, for my sake—for

the sake of a fond, doting mother.”

“I always do look after my midshipmen, madam,” answered the captain; “I

wish them to learn their duty, and I make them do it. If your son

behaves himself, he will get on as well as the rest; but if not, he

will probably find himself spending a considerable portion of his time

up aloft there,” and the captain glanced at the mast-head.

I saw young master screw up his mouth at this. However, Mrs Brigadier

said nothing. She had unburdened her maternal bosom, and done her duty,

as she considered it.

The captain now invited the Brigadier and his family down to luncheon,

and Master Richard followed, his air of confidence somewhat abated. He

had taken the captain’s measure, and the captain had taken his, but

they were not likely to get on the worse for that. I saw many glances

of admiration cast at the young ladies by the lieutenants and

midshipmen, for really they were very pretty, nice girls, according to

my notion—not a bit like their mamma.

At last the party came out of the cabin again, and the side boys were

once more called away. The old Brigadier took a hearty affectionate

farewell of his boy, and his sisters kissed him—all very right and

proper—and then came Mrs Brigadier. I saw that poor Master Richard was

rather uncomfortable, when, quite regardless of where they were, she

took him up in her long arms, and kissed his cheeks, and his forehead,

and his lips, just as if he had been a baby, and a big tear did start

into her eye. “Well, she is human, at all events,” I thought, “in spite

of her appearance.”

Though some of the midshipmen might have laughed, the captain looked as

grave as a judge, and so did the other officers. Master Richard went

down the ladder, and saw his party off: then he again came up the side,

and walked about the deck by himself, evidently not knowing exactly

what to do. At last, the first-lieutenant, Mr Blunt, went up to him.

“Have you ever been to sea before, Mr Plumb?” he asked.

“No, indeed, I have not,” was the answer, “and I am rather doubtful—”

“Well, well,” broke in Mr Blunt, “remember, I speak to you as a friend.

You should say, ‘Sir!’ when you address a superior officer.”

“Certainly,” answered Master Dicky, “but I did not know you were my

superior officer.”

The lieutenant laughed.

“You will have a good deal to learn, I suspect, Mr Plumb. Remember, I

am the first-lieutenant of the ship, and you must obey with promptitude

any orders which I, or any of the other lieutenants give, or the

master, or the warrant-officers, or, indeed, any officers on duty, may

issue. You have a great many people above you on board this ship, Mr

Plumb.”

“So it seems, sir,” said Richard, “but if they all try to teach me my

duty, so much the better; I shall learn the faster.”

“You will,” said Mr Blunt, “only there is one thing you must never

pretend to be, and that is—stupid. The captain believes you to be one

of the sharpest lads who ever came to sea; and, let me tell you, he is

not the man to allow anybody to gainsay his opinion.”

Chapter Four.

First Experiences of Sailing.

We ran down Channel at a rattling rate, the wind off shore, the sea

smooth, the sun shining brightly. Young Master Richard soon got the

name from his messmates of Dicky Plumb—a name which, of course, stuck

to him. In spite of his airs of dignity, he soon showed that he was a

plucky little fellow; and he was at once for going aloft with the other

midshipmen and boys. The first time, he ran up the main rigging pretty

smartly, till he got to the futtock-shrouds; go higher he could not,

and go through the lubber’s hole he would not. He kept looking up, till

at length he determined to go round by the futtock-shrouds into the

top. He clambered along; I was aft, cleaning some brass-work, and could

not help looking up, and watching him. Round into the top he could not

get. More than once I thought he would lose his hold. The captain, who

came on deck, thought so too. He made as if he would go aloft himself,

when Ned Rawlings caught his eye.

“Go and look after the boy,” he said.

Ned sprang aloft, and in a twinkling had his arms round Dicky’s waist.

“Don’t struggle,” he said, “and I’ll have you down safe.”

In a few seconds, Dicky was all right on the deck. He was not

contented, however; aloft he would go again, immediately.

“I will try once more, sir,” he said, turning to the captain—for he had

learned to say “sir,” by this time, to everybody—and after three or

four attempts—Ned Rawlings taking care to be in the top

beforehand—round the shrouds he got, and safe into the top. He was not

going to stop there, though; and up the top-mast rigging he went, and

down again on the other side.

“If that boy does not break his neck, he will do well in the service,”

I heard the captain observe. “The little fellow has got pluck and

coolness.”

“They say in the berth, sir, that he is a most impudent little chap,”

observed Mr Blunt.

“Very likely,” remarked the captain; “it takes some time to rub that

sort of material out of a boy.”

Dicky often came forward to have a talk with me, and though he could be

uppish enough with his equals and superiors, he was as kind and gentle

to me as any one could be.

“I am very glad I came to sea, Jack,” he observed. “I am learning more

about my work every day; and then the weather is so different to what I

thought it was at sea. I always fancied we were tumbling and tossing

about, except when the ship was in harbour; but here we have been

gliding on for the last fortnight with the water as smooth as a

mill-pond.”

I, in reply, said I was glad I came; but from what I heard, we must

expect ups and downs at sea—sometimes smooth, and sometimes blowing

hard.

“It is all the same to me,” I observed. “When I came to sea, I made up

my mind to take the rough and the smooth together.”

“Jack, were you ever sea-sick?” asked Dicky.

“Not that I remember. Were you?”

“No; and I don’t intend to be,” he answered, drawing himself up

somewhat proudly. “I am not going to be made the sport of my inside.”

“More likely of your messmates,” I answered.

We soon found, however, that this easy sort of life was not going to

last for ever. One night we had to tumble out of our hammocks, in the

middle watch, pretty fast, at the cry of—“All hands shorten sail!” The

men were out of bed in a twinkling. It was wonderful how soon they

slipped into their clothes. The sea was roaring, the wind howling and

whistling, and the officers shouting—“Clew up! Haul down! Close reef

topsails!” and similar cries. I was very glad not to have to go aloft

just then, right up into the darkness, amid the slashing of ropes, and

the flapping of sails, and the fierce whistling of the blast as it

rushed through the rigging. So, I have an idea, was Dicky Plumb, though

he had been boasting so boldly the previous afternoon. I remember being

ordered aft with other boys, to man the mizen-topsail clew-line, which

we did, and pulled, and hauled away, till we were ordered to belay.

This is the only piece of service I recollect rendering to my country

that night. When the ship was got under snug sail, the crew were piped

down; and I, with the watch below, turned in. I was, however, by this

time, feeling rather curious. I had hitherto been very well, and

remarkably jolly; and was sure I was going to make a first-rate sailor.

The ship, however, began to roll, and went on rolling more and more.

Not only I, but most of the other boys, and many of the men, too, were

looking very queer. I had a friend I have not mentioned before—Tommy

Punchon by name—a fine little chap. He had never seen a ship before he

came on board the _Roarer_; but he had read of ships, and foreign

lands, and that made him come to sea, he told me. Now he had heard

there was such a thing as sea-sickness, but he was not going to knock

under to it—not he. I met Tommy coming along the lower deck (I am

speaking now of the next morning), looking very green and yellow;

indeed, all sorts of colours; perhaps I looked the same, I rather think

I did. I asked him how he felt. “Very jolly, eh?”

“Oh, don’t! don’t!” he answered, with the corners of his mouth curling

down. “It’s an awful reality; I must confess it.” Just then, I caught

sight of Dicky Plumb, who had been sent along the deck on some duty,

which he had evidently a difficulty in performing. I doubt if his

mother would have owned him, so crest-fallen he looked. I dared not

speak to him. He, indeed, cast an imploring look at me, as much as to

say, “Don’t!” On he went, trying to reach the midshipmen’s berth, but

overcome by his feelings—miserable I know they were, from experience—he

stopped, and if Sergeant Turbot had not caught him in his arms, he

would have sunk down on the deck. The sergeant, however, helped him

along, till he got him stowed safely away in the berth, where there

were probably several other young gentlemen in a like prostrate

condition. Meantime, I grew worse and worse. Tommy and I were soon

joined by other boys—a most miserable crew—and we all together went and

stowed ourselves away in the fore part of the ship, thinking that no

one would be troubled about such wretched creatures as we were. My

grand idea was a hope that some one would come and throw me overboard.

We lay thus for some time unnoticed, and began to hope that we should

not be discovered. Still, I must say, I did not care what happened to

us. I asked Tommy how he felt.

“Oh, Jack! Jack?” he groaned out, “Do take me by the head and heels,

and heave me overboard, there’s a good fellow!”

“That’s just what I was going to ask you to do for me,” I answered, in

the same dolorous tone, though I have an idea, that if any one had

actually taken us at our word, the cold water would soon have restored

us to health, and we should have wished ourselves on board again.

Suddenly, we were all aroused by a gruff voice sounding in our ears,

and, looking up, who should we see, but that hard-hearted individual,

Bryan Knowles, the ship’s corporal, standing over us, cane in hand.

“What are all you boys idling here for?” he growled out. “Rouse up,

every one of you; rouse up, you young villains, and go to your duty?”

Poor little wretches that we were; as if we could possibly do anything

but just crawl from one place to another, and lie down, wishing to die.

But it was not only the boys who were ill, but great hulking fellows,

some seamen, but mostly marines; fully fifty of them, lying and rolling

about the decks like logs of wood. I need not further describe the

scene, or enter into too minute particulars.

At length, old Futtock, the boatswain—a friend of Sergeant

Turbot’s—gave me leave to go and lie down in his cabin till I should

get better. The very feeling that I had some one to care for me did me

good.

In most ships there is a dirty Jem; we had one, a miserable fellow,

with a skin which no amount of washing could cleanse. Now it happened

that a party of tall marines had stolen down the fore cock-pit, and

having found their way into the cable tier, had snugly stowed

themselves on some spare sails and hawsers. There they lay, groaning

and moaning, and making other noises significant of what was going on,

when Mr Maconochie, a big, burly Scotchman, mate of the orlop deck,

coming forward, heard them, and very soon began to peer about with his

large goggle eyes into the recesses of the tier. I dreaded the

consequences, as, slipping out of the cabin where I had been, I looked

out to see what he was about.

“What are you sodgers doing there?” he roared out, in a furious passion

at seeing what they had been about.

One of them, with a wicked leer, at once pointed to Dirty Jem, who lay

fast asleep not far off. Now, whether Mr Maconochie thought he could

not punish the marines, and was glad to get hold of some other

individual on whom to vent his rage, I do not know; but, be that as it

may, he roused up the poor boy, and having boxed his ears, ordered him

to take one of the steerage, that is, a midshipman’s hammock—which had

been left by the marine who ought to have lashed it up—and to carry it

up and stow it in the poop nettings. Poor Jem poked his fingers into

one of the turns, and began to drag the big hammock along, but so weak

was he that he could scarcely move. I do not think he could ever have

got up, even to the lower deck. Fortunately for Dirty Jem, Mr Blunt,

who would allow no one but himself to bully, and that he never did,

happened to come down, and inquiring why he was dragging the hammock,

ordered him to put it down, and hauled Mr Maconochie pretty severely

over the coals for his barbarity. The marines had meantime sneaked off,

and thus escaped the mate’s rage. I had got nearly well by this time,

and thought, as the ship was still tumbling about, that I was going to

enjoy myself. The captain, however, having ascertained that we had got

our sea legs and sea stomachs into order, ordered the ship’s corporal

to turn us out of our hammocks at four o’clock next morning to muster

at the lee gangway. We there had to answer to our number, and then came

the pipe—

“Watch and idlers, holystone decks?”

We were sent on to the poop, and were employed for some time amidst the

slashing and dashing of water, working away on our bare knees on the

sanded decks, grinding them with the holystones. Then we had to scrub

with hard brushes, while the captain of the mizen-top kept dashing

buckets full of water round us, often sending one right into our faces.

There were generally one or two of the midshipmen there, who had to

paddle about, with their trousers tucked up and their feet and legs

bare; however, as the first-lieutenant set them the example, they had

no cause to complain.

For a whole day I had seen nothing of Dicky Plumb. At length, one

morning, who should appear on deck but the young gentleman himself. He

looked doubtingly at first at what was going forward, then off he

slipped his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers, and began like the

others running here and there, seeing that all hands worked away with a

will. We had to muster for numerous purposes—to see that we were clean,

and that our hammocks were lashed up properly. The latter was severe

work; for, the hammocks being heavy and we little, when the ship was

rolling it was as much as we could do, and sometimes more than we could

do, to hold on to them, and keep ourselves from rolling away across the

deck. Poor Jem (Dirty Jem, I mean) was often in trouble. The lieutenant

made us tuck up our shirt-sleeves and trousers, and then lift our arms

and legs to see that they were properly washed. Dirty Jem had really

got his arms clean up to his elbows, and legs up to the knees.

“Turn up your shirt-sleeves higher, boy, and your trousers too,” said

the lieutenant.

A dark rim of dirt was seen at each place.

“Corporal, give this boy twelve finnams!” exclaimed the lieutenant.

“Please, sir, I didn’t know that we were to muster there,” spluttered

out Dirty Jem.

The excuse, however, did not save him. He got the finnams, and had to

clean himself into the bargain. To the latter operation he objected

even more than the first, and seemed to think it a very hard case of

cruelty. However, I shall have no space for our adventures in the far

East, if I go spinning my yarn in this style. We touched at Madeira,

the chief object, I fancy, being to procure a cask or two of wine for

the captain and the admiral on the station. Hearing one day that we

were nearing the line, I, with Tommy Punchon and several other boys,

were very anxious to know what that could mean. I promised to ask

Sergeant Turbot. I did so. He looked very wise, and replied—“Why, you

understand, Jack, that the line is what you don’t see, but it’s there,

and runs right round the world, from east to west, or west to east,

it’s all the same. And then it’s very hot there, because the sun is

right overhead, and for the same cause it’s always summer, and the days

are neither very long nor very short, and there are mostly calms. For

this reason, and because he could not pick out a more comfortable part

of the whole watery-world, the king of the ocean, Daddy Neptune, as we

call him, once on a time used to live there. He does not now, that I

know of, because I have heard say that all the heathen gods and

goddesses have given up living at all on the earth; though, to be sure,

I don’t say but what he and they may visit it now and then. Now, Jack,

you understand all about the matter, or as much as I, a sergeant of the

Royal Marines, do, and that surely must be quite enough for a

second-class boy on board ship.”

Full of the lucid information I had received, I returned to my

messmates, who told me that, in spite of what the sergeant had said,

they heard, positively, that Neptune and all his court were coming on

board, either the next day or the following. Sure enough, Daddy did

come on board, in right fashion, when the opportunity was taken of

giving Dirty Jem a thorough washing, and punishing three or four other

individuals in a rather unpleasant way, by cramming their mouths full

of grease and pitch, under the pretence of lathering them, before being

shaved by Neptune’s barber. I should say, that a lower studding-sail

had been fastened up, in the form of a long bag, in the main deck, on

the starboard side, and filled with water. The skid gratings had been

taken off, so that, looking down from the starboard gangway, nothing

but water was to be seen. Neptune and his wife made their appearance

from forward, sitting on what they said was their chariot, but which

looked like a gun-carriage. They had two infants, who put me

wonderfully in mind of two small boys in our mess, while his wife had

very much the appearance of Ned Rawlings; and I thought, too, I

recognised the features of his secretary, his coachman, and barber.

They were followed by a number of courtiers, and twenty-four bears, and

as many constables. The chief business of the latter was to catch the

fellows who were to be shaved and ducked. We boys were tossed about

from side to side of the tank by the bears, they crying out, “He’s none

of my child!” and very fortunate we thought ourselves when we got out

again. The side being smooth and steep as an earthen pan, we were very

much like rats caught in one. Besides Dirty Jem, the smaller, we had a

big, hulking fellow—Michael Clack, by name. He was a dirty, lazy,

lubberly fellow, disliked and despised by all the ship’s company. He

had, from the first, I doubt not, a pretty good notion that he would

receive no very delicate treatment from Neptune’s ministers, so he went

and hid himself away, thinking that he might, perhaps, escape notice.

He had been marked, however, from the first.

“Michael Clack! Michael Clack!” was soon called out by the secretary,

and “Michael Clack! Michael Clack!” resounded along the decks. The

constables searched for him everywhere, along each deck, behind every

chest, and each store-room, and in each corner into which he could

possibly have crept. At last, it was believed that he must have gone

overboard. Still, as he had been seen by more than one of the boys

scudding along the decks faster than he had ever been known to move

before, the fact that he had gone overboard was doubted by a great

many. At length, the constables instituted another search along the

orlop deck, and in the cable tier. A shout proclaimed that Clack was

found. He was stowed away in the coil of a cable, and a piece of canvas

drawn neatly over him. He was dragged up, and placed on the plank

before Neptune.

“You are a big, lazy, idle, mischievous, do-nothing rascal,” began his

Majesty. “You deserve no good from any one, and you will get it, too,

my hearty! Give him Number 1.” That was the roughest razor in use.

“Plenty of lather! Lay it on thick!” Neptune’s ministers of justice did

not require a second bidding. The moment the unhappy Clack opened his

mouth to plead his cause, the tar-brush was run almost down his throat.

His face was next covered with it, and scraped with a jagged razor,

till the blood ran out in all directions. In this state he was tossed

into the tank, and bandied about among the bears, every one of whom

owed him a grudge, till some one cried out that he was done for. He had

fainted, or, like the Australian dingo, had pretended to faint, and

looked, indeed, as if he were dead. The captain, seeing what had

happened, was very angry, and ordering him to be taken to the doctor,

forbade the sports to be continued. Neptune and his secretary begged

pardon as well as they could for what had happened, and he and his

followers waddled forward, and disappeared over the bows. We heard that

evening that Michael Clack was very ill, and there was a general idea

that he was going to die. What the doctor thought about the matter I do

not know.

Clack hated work, but he disliked nasty physic still more. This the

doctor knew; and by giving him all the most nauseous draughts he could

think of he soon got him out of the sick list. Clack, though out of the

sick list, was very soon in the black list; and being shortly

afterwards detected in helping himself to the contents of another man’s

bag, he was adjudged by the captain to be placed in irons, to be kept

in solitary confinement, and otherwise punished.

Chapter Five.

Across the Ocean.

Falling in at length with the north-east trade-winds, we stood towards

the coast of South America, and entered Rio de Janeiro harbour, which

was but very little, if anything, out of our course for the Cape of

Good Hope. This will be seen by a glance at a map of the world, and

ships, therefore, frequently touch there on their way to the regions

beyond the Cape of Good Hope. It is a magnificent bit of water,

surrounded by curiously-shaped mountains and peaks, with a big city on

its shores, full of large streets and no end of churches. Sergeant

Turbot took Tommy Punchon and me with him, to keep us out of mischief,

though we would rather have gone alone to try and get into it. I was

astonished at the quantity of black slaves, grunting and groaning away

under their heavy loads. Still, they were ever ready for a joke, and

the niggers we met with loads were merry laughing fellows, who went

along singing and joking, as if no such thing as slavery existed. I

might fill my journal with an account of the numberless curious things

I saw on shore, but if I did I should have no space for my own

adventures; so I will leave to others to give a description of Rio, and

go on with my sea log.

That night, when we got on board again, Sergeant Turbot and the

boatswain were walking the forecastle, and Punchon and I were standing

not far off, when a splash was heard, and the sentry shouted out, “A

man overboard!” He immediately fired, but did not hit the man, whose

head I could see as I looked out from one of the ports as he struck out

boldly for the land; there were plenty of sharks about, so that there

was not much chance of his reaching it, even if he was allowed to go.

The sentry’s shot was, however, followed by the officer of the watch

calling away the second cutter. She was lowered and manned pretty

quickly, and I watched her eagerly as she made chase after the

fugitive. He was soon brought back, and proved to be no other than

Michael Clack, who, taking advantage of the short interval when a

prisoner is relieved from his manacles in the evening, had contrived to

slip overboard. No one had supposed that he was a good swimmer, yet, to

reach the shore, he must have been a first-rate one. Perhaps some

friend had told him that an American vessel lay inside of us, and he

hoped to reach her, when he would have been taken on board and

concealed. He would, however, have been a somewhat dear bargain, if

they had got him. We were soon again at sea, steering across the

Atlantic for the Cape of Good Hope. I need scarcely say that soon after

we got out of harbour Michael Clack got four dozen for his attempt at

desertion. I am not going to describe the ceremony; it is a very

unpleasant one for all hands concerned. Still, I must own, Master

Michael got what he deserved.

“You have heard of good service stripes, may-be, Jack?” said the

sergeant to me. “Those are what we call bad service stripes; and mind

you, boy, never do anything to deserve them.”

I asked Sergeant Turbot if he could tell me anything of these

trade-winds, which had been blowing so strong in our favour for so many

days.

“That’s just what I have been talking to Futtock about,” he answered.

“He and I make it out, that they always do blow in some parts from the

north-east, and, further south, from the south-east. Why they blow

thus, is more than I can tell you; but I’ve heard say, that they have

got the name of trade-winds, because they help on traders in a voyage

through the Atlantic.”

I was not quite satisfied with this answer, and determined to try and

find out more of the matter by-and-by. The weather had been threatening

for some hours, and towards evening the hands were turned up to reef

topsails. Three reefs were at once taken in, and not a moment too soon.

Down came the gale upon us. The big ship heeled over till the

lower-deck ports were under water. The rolling seas tossed round her,

and roared, as if eager to swallow her up. The wind whistled, the

thunder growled, every now and then breaking overhead with tremendous

rattles and crashes, and a pitchy darkness came down over the ocean,

the occasional flashes of lightning only rendering the darkness still

more dark. Before long we had our fore-topsail close reefed, three

reefs in the main-top-sail, and mizen-topsail furled, and we were

running dead before the gale, at not less than fifteen knots an hour.

Mr Futtock said that we were going twenty; and, of course, I believed

him; but I do not now, because I never found the fastest ship go so

fast, and the old _Roarer_ was, as the men said, a good one to fight,

but not to go. In spite of the remarks I made of our captain, many of

the men still held to the notion that there was more talk than do in

him.

“Just a lady’s man—very fine to look at, with his cambric handkerchiefs

and scent bottles, but you never get much out of such chaps.”

Officers little think how much they are discussed by the men. The

second-lieutenant was thought still less of, and not without reason. He

was fond of spouting poetry, and doing the polite to young ladies,

whenever any came off to see the ship; but as to seamanship, he knew

little about it. He often got the ship into a mess, but had no idea of

getting her out of it again. Now, it happened to be his first watch; it

had just struck eight bells. The starboard watch had been called, and a

few minutes afterwards the other watch was mustered. During this time

the rounds went to see all cleared up and safe below. The watch

relieved was just turning in. Some already had their clothes off, when

suddenly a fearful crashing sound was heard. No one knew what had

happened, only that there was a feeling that the ship was in some awful

danger. Not a word was heard from the officer of the watch. If we were

in peril he was not going to take us out of it—so it seemed. Neither

Punchon nor I had taken off our clothes, so we scrambled on deck to see

what was the matter. A seaman will understand our position, when I say

that the ship was taken right aback, and driving, stern first, at the

rate of some twelve knots an hour, with the sea breaking over her poop,

two-thirds of which were already under water. No one spoke; not an

order was given. Suddenly, a loud voice was heard, shouting, “On deck,

lads, for your lives?” and directly afterwards Ned Rawlings piped, “All

hands save ship!” The crew were on deck almost before the sound of the

pipe had died away; and again the same voice—we now knew it to be that

of the captain—shouted, “Man the starboard fore-brace!” Officers,

marines, any one who was near, grasped the rope, and hauled away on it

with a will. The head yards were very soon braced right up, and the

head sails took and filled at the very moment that the poop was nearly

under water, and it seemed as if the ship was going bodily down. The

main and cross-jack yards were soon braced round, and in less than a

quarter of an hour from the time the wind had shifted we were braced

sharp up on the starboard tack, and going seven knots through the

water.

“We have had a merciful deliverance,” I heard old Futtock remark to the

gunner a short time afterwards. “It’s not often that a ship gets into

the position we were in and gets out of it. In another minute the sea

would have been rushing right over the poop down on our quarter-deck,

and it would have been all over with us. If Mr Muddlehead had had his

wits about him, he would have braced the yards up the moment we were

taken aback. A pretty go it would have been, if we had not been under

snug sail. Why, we should have gone right down, stern foremost, and

never have come up again. That’s been the fate of many a ship out in

these parts, which has never since been heard of.”

“A fine fellow, our skipper,” I heard Mr Plumb observe to a messmate.

“I really did think at first that the Brigadier and my mother would

have had to bewail my loss. I am deeply indebted to him.”

A loud laugh followed the young gentleman’s remark. “Ha! ha! ha! Dicky,

remember that all people are not taken at their own value,” exclaimed

an old mate, who was fond of putting Mr Plumb down now and then. After

this night our captain was more than ever respected by the crew,

because he was now known to be a thorough seaman—a doer as well as a

talker—and in consequence he maintained discipline on board without

flogging and without difficulty.

We touched at the Cape, where Dicky Plumb really did go on shore and

dine with the Governor, who happened to be a friend of his father’s,

and he took good care afterwards to talk not a little about his visit

to his messmates, and the way he was treated by the Governor.

I was at this time appointed to wait on the midshipmen, the boy I

superseded being the unfortunate Jem Smudge.

“I don’t like having you to wait on us,” observed Mr Midshipman Plumb

to me, one day soon after this. “I am afraid the fellows will be

abusing you, and I could not stand that; but you must not mind it, if

they do; and if you will bear abuse for a little time, I will manage to

make all square in the end.”

“Do not trouble yourself about that, Master Richard,” I answered.

“Depend upon it, I don’t care what the young gentlemen say to me. I

intend to do my duty to them, and Sergeant Turbot says it will be all

the better for me. So, whatever they say, let it pass. Don’t say

anything for or against me.”

“As to that, Jack, you must let me take my own course,” answered Mr

Plumb.

I found that Dicky Plumb got considerably laughed at by his companions

for what they called his uppishness, and his boasting of his various

friends and relations of rank. Still, nothing would ever put him down.

“It is no fault of mine if my father happens to have a Duke for a

cousin, or a Governor-General of India for a brother-in-law, or if he

is intimate with the Prime Minister, or if the Queen herself holds him

in high estimation; so I do not see why you chaps should laugh at me.”

“But, I say, Master Dicky,” exclaimed an old mate, Sampson Trueman by

name, “is it a fact that your father has a cousin a Duke, and is

brother-in-law to the Governor-General?”

“I ask you, Mr Trueman, whether it is becoming of you—a master’s mate

in the British navy, and soon, I hope, should the Lords Commissioners

of the Admiralty be made aware of your superlative merits, to become a

lieutenant—to call in question the word of another officer,

notwithstanding that he may not be of your own exalted rank,” exclaimed

Dicky, in his usual pompous manner. “I must decline answering those

questions.”

There was a general laugh, in which Mr Trueman joined; and though,

probably, the older members of the mess suspected that the gentleman

had been romancing, others were still under the impression that he

really possessed the exalted connections of whom he boasted.

Helped along by a fine steady breeze we made good progress, and at

length reached the entrance to the river Hoogley. Dicky got leave to

accompany the captain up to Calcutta. Whether or not he was received as

a relative by the Governor-General no one in his own mess could

ascertain. He dined, however, at Government House, but that might have

been in consequence of some introduction sent out by Mrs Brigadier. She

was, at all events, a person to take care that her son should not be

overlooked. We did not remain there long before we received orders to

make the best of our way on to China, where an expedition was engaged

in teaching the Celestials to pay due respect to the outside

barbarians, as they call the nations of Europe.

Chapter Six.

We Reach the Flowery Land.

On a fine afternoon we found ourselves sailing into a beautiful bay,

with high mountains rising up on either side. We soon dropped anchor

off a town, which we found was the new English city of Victoria, in the

island of Hong Kong, close to the mainland of China. A large number of

other vessels were already at anchor, men-of-war, merchantmen,

transports, and store-ships. The transports had on board a body of

British troops destined, as Sergeant Turbot informed me, to teach the

Chinese manners.

Before long, several of the officers and men from other ships of the

squadron came aboard us, and soon told us what had been done, making

us, of course, very eager to be engaged in similar exploits. Boxes,

slippers, daggers, knives, and all sorts of articles were exhibited as

trophies. The most highly prized were the Chinamen’s pigtails, which

our men had cut off, they declared, when the enemy ran away. We had a

busy time of it at Hong Kong. It was understood that there would

probably be a good deal more fighting with the Chinese. The marines, of

course, expected to be employed on shore. I could not help feeling,

however, somewhat anxious for my friend, Sergeant Turbot; for in that

climate to have to make a long march, or to storm a fort at the top of

a hill, would, I thought, too likely prove fatal to him.

“We shall have some work, Jack, before long,” he observed to me; “and I

have no doubt our corps will uphold its credit. These Chinese are

curious fellows to fight with, I hear; for, though they are easily

beaten, they don’t seem to find it out; they stop and fight till they

are killed. I rather think, however, Jack, that you will be

disappointed, as our ship is not likely to have much work to do

herself, except, perhaps, attacking forts at the mouths of the rivers,

or a big town or two near the sea. However, you will hear of it from

those who are sent away in the boats, and I dare say we marines shall

have something to talk about when we get back.”

A day or two after this, however, Mr Plumb stopped me outside the

berth.

“Jack,” he said, “I have been appointed to a schooner—the _Fawn_—which

is to be fitted out as a tender to the ship. Mr Ormsby, the third

lieutenant, is to command her, and I have made up my mind to get you as

one of her crew. Two or three boys are certain to be sent in her.”

I thanked Master Dicky for his kind intentions.

“If I am ordered to go, I must,” I observed, “but I would rather ask

Sergeant Turbot what he thinks about the matter, if I am to have my

choice.”

I told the sergeant.

“I don’t want to lose sight of you, boy; but, of course, you will see

more of what is going forward if you go aboard the schooner, and you

will get more seamanship, too, than you will in this big ship.”

I told Mr Plumb, the next time I saw him, what the sergeant said.

“Of course, I knew he would,” he answered, “and I will see about it,

Jack.”

Whether Master Dicky had anything to do in the matter or not, I do not

know; but I and Tommy Punchon were two of the boys selected to go on

board the schooner.

The whole squadron soon after sailed, and proceeded to the mouth of the

Canton River, where they astonished the Celestials by blowing their

forts to pieces. The larger ships remained at the mouth of the river,

while the smaller vessels, we among them, with a couple of steamers,

were sent higher up. The Chinese did their best, of course, to

bamboozle the diplomatists. However, those gentlemen saw enough to make

them advise all the foreign merchants living at Canton to leave the

place. They heard also that the Chinese had laid plans to destroy the

English ships, and that a large army was also collecting, to meet our

troops, should they land. We, with several other small men-of-war,

corvettes, and brigs, lay high up the river. Generally speaking, the

river is crowded with boats of every possible shape and fashion, moving

up and down the stream. A vast number of people live in these boats,

and merely go on shore occasionally to buy food, or to sell their fish

or ducks, or the articles they may have brought from other places. At

this time, however, not a boat was to be seen; they had all gone up the

creeks, out of the way of the barbarians. At length the sun set

gloomily, the sky was overcast, and the darkness increased, till it was

difficult to see far beyond the bowsprit end. Our people were all

ordered to remain on deck. The guns were loaded, and each man was

armed. The boats were cleared, ready to be lowered as they hung at the

davits, at a moment’s notice.

“Well, Jack, what do you think of it?” said Mr Plumb, who came forward

where I was standing.

“I suppose something or other is going to happen,” I answered, “but I

don’t know what.”

“Why, I will tell you,” he said; “the Chinese think they are going to

catch a weasel asleep, but they are mistaken. They will find that they

have only stirred up the British Lion with a long pole, and that he

will not only roar, but make a spring which will astonish them. I have

been anxious to have something to do, and I hope we are going to find

it at last.”

Scarcely had he spoken, when the sentry from a vessel ahead of us

hailed. He got no answer, it seemed, for he immediately fired. Directly

he had done so, in the midst of the darkness, as it were, a bright

light burst forth, blazing away furiously, and revealing a number of

dark objects floating on the water. Instantly the drum sounded, beating

to quarters. The Chinese had commenced their plan for destroying the

English ships by fire-rafts. The boats of the squadron were seen

immediately, pulling up the river, when, grappling the rafts, they

towed them away clear of the ships. Some went on shore on one bank,

some on the other. Some drifted down towards a village, the houses of

which they immediately set on fire.

Dicky Plumb had jumped into one of the boats, and I, without orders,

followed him. We steered away towards one of the rafts which seemed to

be approaching the _Fawn_. Just as we got hold of it, it burst into

flames; but, in spite of the heat, we got it clear of the vessel, and

did not leave it till it was close in with the shore. And now, on all

sides, were blazing up vast fires, some drifting about the river,

others on shore where the rafts had struck; their light exhibiting the

panic-stricken Chinese who had had charge of them, some trying to

escape towards the shore, others swimming down the stream, those who

could not swim standing on the deck till driven overboard by the heat;

all the time a sharp fire being kept up at them by our marines, who,

naturally, under such circumstances, showed them but little mercy. As

the first body of fire-rafts had been towed clear, guns opened on us

from the shore, the Chinese having erected several new batteries for

that purpose. Now began the roar of artillery, though, in consequence

of the darkness, the Chinese, not being able to distinguish the

vessels, took but bad aim. We also could only find out the whereabouts

of their batteries by the light of their guns, and the reflection of

the fire from the burning houses on the shore. These showed us numerous

Tartar officers hurrying about, and endeavouring to rally and encourage

their men to fight the guns. We managed, as did other vessels, to

escape damage, by alternately veering out cable and shortening it

again, so as considerably to alter our position, and thus to deceive

the Chinese gunners.

This sort of work continued till daylight. At length, when the sun rose

in an unclouded sky, it exhibited to our sight a scene of havoc and

destruction on either side. On the banks were the wrecks of the still

burning fire-vessels; the batteries on shore knocked to pieces by our

shot; the suburbs of the town, and several of the villages, in flames;

while, here and there, a spar knocked away on board the vessels, or

some other trifling damage, showed how we had been employed during the

night. One of our active little steamers, soon after daylight, was some

distance ahead, when a large junk made her appearance from round a

point, and began firing away. The steamer very quickly put the junk to

flight, when, at a signal made, the boats of the squadron were ordered

to proceed after her. In a few minutes, some twenty men-of-war’s boats

were pulling away, as hard as the crews could lay their backs to the

oars. I, as before, jumped into Dicky Plumb’s boat, and she was away

before I was discovered. No sooner had we rounded the point I have

spoken of, than a whole fleet of war junks and boats of all sorts were

found huddled together at no great distance. Instantly, we dashed at

them. Many of the junks had soldiers on board, who, as soon as they saw

us coming, did their best to get on shore, shoving off in small boats

as fast as they could leap into them. Some, in their hurry, fell

overboard. A considerable number had thus made their escape by the time

we reached the scene of action. Some of the junks and boats were

pulling away up the river. We, with other boats, made chase. The shot

from the ships’ launches quickly set many of the junks on fire. As soon

as we got up to a junk, we examined her carefully, to ascertain if

anybody was on board, before we devoted her to the flames. In a short

time, the whole water was covered with burning vessels, one after the

other, those having powder on board blowing up with loud explosions. In

spite of our humane intentions, there are so many hiding-places on

board a Chinese junk, that nearly in every one several unfortunate

fellows had concealed themselves. As the fires in creased, we saw them

rushing up from below, where they would remain until no longer able to

bear the heat on deck. Some then were seen to jump desperately

overboard. Most of these swam on shore without much difficulty; but

others, who apparently could not swim, remained clinging to the outside

of the junk or the rudder. Here we saw them holding on till the junk

blew up, or the heat compelled them to leave their last refuge.

When we could, we took them on board, but there were so many junks

burning together that this was not always possible, and consequently a

considerable number must have perished. We had got alongside a boat,

not knowing what was on board her, when Dicky Plumb leaped on to her

deck. I had followed him, when my eye caught sight of a little fizzing

spot of light, just as if the end of a cigar had been thrown down. I

saw the fire slowly working its way on. In an instant, it occurred to

me that it was a slow match. Seizing my friend by the arm, I leaped

back into the boat.

“Hillo, Jack! what do you mean by that?” he exclaimed in an indignant

tone.

“Shove off!” I shouted, “and pull away!”

The men guessed what it was, and the boat had not got ten yards off,

when up went the Chinese craft, on board which we had been a moment

before, shivered into a thousand fragments. There were a number of

similar boats near at hand, some of which caught fire, and blew up at

the same moment.

Happily, we escaped without much hurt. We found fifty of a similar

character, which had been prepared for the destruction of the English

fleet. It was a curious scene—the Chinese craft, of all sizes, sailing,

pulling, and paddling away in every direction, the English boats

dashing here and there in pursuit. Sometimes a Chinaman would blow up

just as one of our boats got alongside, and then we had to pull off

after a different enemy. We had captured a good many junks, when, some

way ahead, we saw what looked like a steamer. Though there was no steam

up, the wheels were paddling away. We managed, however, to get up to

her, when overboard jumped a number of people; and, on reaching her

deck, we found that, though there were paddles outside, the inside had

only wooden machinery, to be worked something like a treadmill by men.

She managed, however, to go through the water at the rate of three or

four knots an hour. Several similar sham steamers were captured, which

had been manufactured by the Celestials, for the purpose of overawing

us barbarians. The fighting for the day, however, was very far from

finished. The troops had been landed, as well as the marines and

brigades of blue jackets, and were now busily employed in storming the

forts surrounding Canton. We had gone up a creek which ran near the

base of a high hill, on the top of which was a fort. A party of marines

and blue jackets had marched round by land, to attack it, and as we

approached, we saw them charge up the hill. Mr Hanson, the mate, who

commanded the boat, was very eager to join in the fray. We had a strong

current against us. However, by dint of hard pulling, we managed at

length to get up near the base of the hill. The Chinese at the top had

made a gallant defence, and many of our people had already been killed

or wounded, or knocked up by the heat. Among others, struggling up the

side of the hill, I saw a marine, whom I knew by his red coat; his

sword was in his mouth, and with hands and feet he was endeavouring to

climb up the steep side of the hill. I guessed by his figure that he

must be my friend Sergeant Turbot. I could almost fancy that I heard

him puffing and groaning, as every now and then he looked up, and

shouted to his men to lend him a hand. They, however, had dashed on, to

get at the enemy; in fact, it seemed a wonder that he should have

escaped hitherto with his life from the showers of shot which came

sweeping down the hill-side. Just then, we saw, coming round the base

of the hill, a strong body of Tartar troops, evidently intending to

take our men in the rear.

“Now is the time, my lads!” shouted Mr Hanson, starting up.

It must be understood that we had been completely concealed from the

enemy. With loud shouts and cries we all dashed forward together to

attack the head of the enemy’s column. They, expecting that we were

merely a leading body of blue jackets, turned tail, and retreated, with

a greater rapidity than they had advanced, we keeping up a hot fire in

their rear. I could not bear the thoughts of leaving my old friend in

his present predicament, and, therefore, without stopping to ask leave,

I scampered off to his assistance, forgetting all about the shower of

bullets through which I had to pass. Happily, not one hit me, and I was

soon by the sergeant’s side.

“Why, Jack, you seem to me like an angel from heaven!” he exclaimed, as

he saw me. “Put your shoulder under me and help me up. Up I must go,

but it was cruel to send me to storm such a hill. It is not fit work

for a man of my figure; but, up! up!”

The sergeant had chosen a short cut, though a very steep one. By my

aid, shoving astern, we had already made some progress, when part of

the boat’s crew arrived, led on by Dicky Plumb.

“Oh, Mr Plumb, do get your men to lend me a hand and haul me up this

place. We should be in the fort as soon as the rest, if we could but

get up to the top of the cliff.”

I was not sorry, I confess, to have some assistance. By the aid of the

men the sergeant at last reached a level spot at the summit of the

hill.

“Now, my lads,” he shouted, taking his sword from his mouth, “we’ll be

at them!”

The Chinese, believing that no one could get up that way, had neglected

its defences. Led on, therefore, by the gallant sergeant, we all

together made a dash into the fort. The enemy, taken on the flank,

began to give way, and the main body of marines and bluejackets, making

a renewed effort in front, dashed in over all obstacles, cutting down

the defenders, who stood bravely at their guns till the last.

“Jack, Jack,” said the sergeant, when the fort was in our possession,

“I owe you much. You saved my life, I believe, but you did more than

that, you saved my honour.”