"UNDER FIRE!"
"Look alive, my lads!" shouted out our tall commander, as we stumbled
about the deck of the brig, the shock as her keel touched ground
knocking us off our pins and making the poor seasick chaps who were
holding their heads over the side pull them in pretty promptly. "Watch,
furl sails! 'Way aloft!"
The sheets and halliards were let go in a twinkling before we left the
deck and the topsails dropped on the caps, as well as the jib downhaul
manned and the spanker brailed up, so as to prevent our being forced
farther upon the shoal; and, while we were shinning up the rigging, the
clewlines and buntlines were hauled by the watch below, which got in all
the slack of the sails preparatory to our passing the gaskets when we
got aloft, thus enabling us to furl all the canvas, and make everything
snug in less time than I take to tell of it.
In the meanwhile our commander made himself busy in other ways, the
cutter being lowered and a party of seamen and boys sent in her with a
kedge to drop astern and try to warp off; the port bower anchor being
dropped at the same time, and a spring set on the cable, which was
buoyed so that we could slip it in a moment in the event of her suddenly
floating.
A `distant signal' was also hoisted at the main, consisting of a square
flag on top with a ball below, which meant that we were aground and
wanted assistance, to let the men on watch at the Hurst Castle signal-
station know what was up with us; and, in addition, our smart commanding
officer put on a party of boys at the pumps, to see whether the brig
might not have strained her timbers and sprung a leak, through working
about on the nasty sand bottom of the Brambles.
This latter precaution, however, proved a useless one; for the gang of
eager lads working away with a will at the crank-handles of the pumps,
soon cleared the little amount of water that was in the bilge, and the
shaft sucked dry.
"Ther' ain't a drop in her," reported Mr Tarbolt, the quarter-master,
`old Jellybelly,' as we called him amongst ourselves. "I don't think,
sir, as how she's made a h'inch since we passed the Needles and last
cleared ship."
"Very good, quarter-master," said the commander; "you can stop pumping."
The chaps who had gone off in the cutter had been equally spry with
their job, bending on a stout hemp hawser through the ring of the kedge
anchor, which they dropped some half a cable's length from the brig,
bringing back the other end aboard, where it was put round the capstan
on the forecastle.
This was at once manned, there being no want of volunteers, every one of
us wanting to have a turn at the capstan bars, even before Mr Gadgett,
the gunner, who was on duty forward, gave the word.
But it was a case of `yo heave' and `paul' in vain, the hemp cable
coming home as taut as possible, and then surging off the capstan
without moving the poor little _Martin_ a hair's-breadth from her sandy
bed.
"We must get out the stream anchor, Mr Gadgett," sang out the
commander. "Look alive there and rig out the davits, and send some
hands into the cutter to stow the anchor properly when we lower it
down!"
This was done, the heavy stream anchor, which was always kept ready on
the forecastle in case of any such emergency, being eased down by means
of its shank painter and the fish tackle until it rested comfortably
across the sternsheets of the boat; while another stout hawser
accompanying it, was coiled round the whole interior of the boat on top
of the thwarts.
The cutter then pulled off to about the same distance at which the kedge
had been dropped, though more on the quarter of the brig than dead aft;
and, the end of the second hawser being brought aboard like the first,
all hands set to work with a cheery song, as we had no drum and fife
band with us in the brig--for, though not strictly according to naval
discipline, the commander permitted the licence so as to make the
fellows move round all the smarter.
"Yo--ho, my lads!" bawled out old Jellybelly, quite in his element, I
believe, as he liked to hear his own voice. "Round she comes! Heave
and paul with a yo--heave--ho!"
"By jingo, she's moving!" Mr Gadgett quivered out, more excited than I
had ever seen the grey-haired gunner before. "Another turn or two, my
lads, and she'll be afloat!"
His excitement communicated itself to the commander aft, who was looking
over the stern and anxiously watching the water, to see if our rudder,
which was kept amidships, made any ripple on the surface; though, wide
awake, our officer was keeping a keen eye, too, on the manilla hawser
attached to the stream anchor, which was in such a ticklish state of
tension from the strain that it was singing out like a fiddle-string.
"Hurrah!" he cried a moment after. "She _is_ moving, Mr Gadgett.
Stand by there, furrud, to veer off the cable of the port bower!"
Tramp, tramp, went the fellows round the capstan; turn by turn, in came
the slack of the warp; and then in another five minutes or so, with a
harsh grating sound as her keel slid off a rocky bit of the shoal on
which she had rested, the gallant little _Martin_ was afloat again!
Almost at the same instant as the dancing motion of her hull told us
that the brig had been restored to her native element, the commander,
wishing to get away as soon as he could from the dangerous neighbourhood
of the Brambles, gave an order to the boatswain's mate standing near
him, who instantly put his whistle to his lips and blew a shrill call
whose import we all well knew.
"Watch, make sail!" then shouted the commander, rubbing his hands with
much satisfaction. "Topmen, aloft and loose the topsails! Let go your
topsail halliards! Man the head sheets!"
While these directions were being carried out, the port bower was
weighed; when the jib being hoisted and the topsails dropped and sheeted
home, the brig paid off on the starboard tack, picking up the kedge and
stream anchor as soon as we fetched over them in rounding-to.
The cutter, which had remained alongside ready for further use if
required, was then hoisted up to the davits; and the _Martin_, spreading
her wings again properly, made off towards Cowes just as one of the
Government tugs, which had been despatched to our assistance from the
dockyard on the receipt of a telegraphic message from Hurst Castle
telling of our mishap, came round the corner of Stokes Bay, puffing away
at a fine rate, and throwing up a cloud of black smoke that spoilt the
beauty of the landscape, and shut out everything to leeward from view.
"Begorrah!" said Mick, from whom the fine fuss and fright and flurry had
banished all traces of his previous illness, making him as right as
ninepence again, "they're jist in toime to be too late, sure!"
Our commander exchanged signals with the people on the tug, however,
telling them that their services were not required, though thanking them
for the help they would have rendered us; and the wind, which had been
shifting about to all parts of the compass while we had been ashore on
the sand ledge, now veering to the south'ard and west'ard, we bore away
before it with squared yards up the Solent towards Spithead, where we
anchored for the night, almost in the fairway, abreast of Southsea
Castle.
Next morning we came into harbour, when a dockyard diver was sent down
to see if the brig had sustained any damage from her pranks of the
previous day; but, all being found staunch and sound below, only the
copper on her keel having received a little extra polish, we were
ordered to go out again into the Channel and continue our cruise.
The most noteworthy feature of this, excepting, of course, the setting
and reefing and taking in sail on board a moving vessel, instead of
practising all these merely in dumb-show as had been our wont in a
stationary ship like the _Saint Vincent_, was the exercise we had with
the old-fashioned little muzzle-loading truck guns, which were mounted
on wooden carriages of the sort only seen in the old _Victory_ nowadays,
with which the _Martin_ was provided.
It was great fun.
The boys in turn detailed to act as crews of the guns used to be
numbered off in regular fashion, according to the custom of the service,
just as if they were grown men and working on board a ship going into
action.
Number 1, who was the captain of the gun, stood in the rear; Number 2,
on the right of the former, but clear of the recoil, as if to teach one
that prominent and distinguished positions have their drawbacks as well
as their advantages; Number 3 stood close up to the ship's side, by the
breeching of the gun on the left; and Number 4 occupied a similar post
on the right, while Numbers 5 and 6 stood in the rear of 3 and 4, and so
on.
Through the energetic instructions of Mr Gadgett, who was a most
painstaking officer, and spared no trouble to teach us our duties
properly, we had learnt when ashore on our drill-ground at Haslar to
master all the necessary manipulation of our `little barkers,' as the
gunner used to call them, learning how to cast them loose from their
lashings, run them back for loading, and prepare them for firing, all in
similar dumb-show fashion to our sail-drill experiences in the old ship;
and now, when we were able to load with real powder and shot, and make
Mr Gadgett's `barkers' bark in earnest, the interest of our gunnery
drill was increased tenfold.
It was splendid work; and from the first order, `Cast loose!' to the
last, `Fire!' it was exciting to the last degree, all of us sponging,
loading, and running out the little guns in the highest of spirits, as
if we were fighting the Battle of Trafalgar over again, and throwing
shot and shell into any number of French and Spanish three-deckers
alongside!
We had hard work sometimes to check ourselves from uttering a wild cheer
when the order was given to pull the trigger and the gun went off with a
grand `Bang!' sending a cloud of white smoke inboard from its muzzle as
its fiery iron messenger leaped forwards and splashed into the sea,
either ahead or abeam as the case might be, throwing up a tall column of
water on its first plunge that was like a sort of fountain, while it
skipped onward, playing `ducks and drakes' on the top of the waves,
until it sank out of sight in the distance, its energy exhausted.
We often used to rig out a target, made up out of an old rum puncheon,
fixed on a raft of spars, which we fired at as at a mark, making very
good practice, too, after a bit.
Mick soon became one of our best shots, Mr Gadgett complimenting him on
having the sharpest eye on board the brig, my chum often, when acting as
Number 1, who you must know invariably sights the gun, succeeding in
smashing our improvised target all to pieces.
"How is it, Donovan," asked the gunner on one of these occasions, "you
have such a steady aim? Why, boy, you haven't been at it very long.
Your eye is like a hawk, by jingo!"
Mick scratched his head in father's way, puzzled to explain his keenness
of vision.
"Faith, sor," he said at length, "it moost 'a bin tryin' to say if I
could say any thin' good turn up afore I jined the sarvice, sure; whin
me fayther wor a blissid Oitalian organ-grinder an' none of us had
nothin' to ate, bedad!"
"By jingo!" exclaimed Mr Gadgett, smiling for once, for I never
previously saw the slightest change of muscle on his thin, weather-
beaten, grey-whiskered face, "you'll do!"
Before we came back again from this cruise, we had a bout of bad weather
while knocking about in the Channel, which brought back to my mind the
yarn Larrikins told the first evening I passed on board the _Saint
Vincent_, in order to distract my attention while he was rigging up my
hammock so that it would come down by the run--of seas that were
`mountings 'igh,' and winds that blew the `'air off 'is 'ead!'
I took at the time, it may be recollected, Master Larrikins' tale with a
very good pinch of the proverbial salt, believing he only intended to
`pull my leg'; but when on the present occasion the brig began to labour
heavily and the green seas, rolling over from the open sea beyond
Ushant, the wind having come on to blow a regular stiff sou'-wester,
topped our bulwarks and made a clean sweep of the deck, I thought
possibly the old joker Larrikins, who had left the training-ship long
ere this and was serving as an ordinary seaman on a foreign station,
might not have been `stretching' to such an extent as I had at the time
imagined.
The little brig, however, was a staunch sea boat, having braved much
worse weather than we now experienced; and, being well handled by our
commander, who was a sailor every inch of him, we ran before the gale
round the easternmost end of the Isle of Wight and snugly brought up
under the lee of Saint Helens, where we dropped both our anchors,
remaining in this sheltered roadstead until the weather broke, when we
returned to Portsmouth.
So far, everything had gone well with me since I entered on board the
_Saint Vincent_, for I had never got into any trouble beyond a slight
scrape or two; but tow the Fates, as if to condone the previous good
fortune with which they had favoured me, all at once did me a very bad
turn, getting me into sad disgrace.
Serious as the matter was, no doubt, in the eyes of the authorities, it
was not, however, such a very terrible crime in itself, though it got me
into the bad books of the captain, who had been so friendly disposed
towards me that he often used to let me take his dog `Gyp' for a walk
when I went ashore.
The fact was, to confess my sin outright, I committed a breach of one of
the strictest regulations of the training service.