"Look here McTavish, I owe you an apology. I thought no good thing
could come out of Nazareth--I mean Aberdeen, but now I cave in."
"Well spoken! Bravo, Sneyd," cried the others. Indeed there was a
murmur of approbation all round the table. Sneyd was manly and truly
English despite his queer little face.
But McTavish stood up. There was moisture in his eyes. But he
stretched out across the table an arm half a fathom long and shook
little Sneyd by the hand.
Sneyd suppressed a cry of pain, and there came moisture into his eyes
next, though its origin was not quite the same.
The _Breezy_ was to be something more than a mere surveying ship and
that is the reason why her officers were one and all chosen from the
best young fellows in the Service.
For Britain even now was--well apparently drifting gradually into war,
and though the Admiralty believed it would be averted, a good deal of
what might be called naval police work would devolve upon the _Breezy_.
She had to be watchful and her duty would not consist entirely in
sounding and chart-making.
The surgeon's cabin was not very large, but his books were, and of
scientific instruments he possessed not a few. However there was the
dispensary at his disposal and Lieut. Wynn also offered him space for
books in his own cabin. So McTavish was soon very happy and quite
settled down.
It was a merry mess, although very little wine was consumed except when
guests came off, as they did at Madeira, St. Helena, Ascension and the
Cape.
The middies' mess was just as jolly, and had five right hearty young
lads in it, ready at any time to do anything for anybody or for their
country.
In this year of 1907 pass exams for the Service were stricter than ever.
There was a splendid staff of men at headquarters, and they would only
have the _creme de la creme_.
Well, although nobody except the captain and first lieutenant were
supposed to know what the _Breezy's_ special instructions were, her
duties were soon an open secret.
German ships of war were careering about and along both the west and
east coasts of Africa. They wanted looking after. Then marvellous to
say the Sultan of Zanzibar had somehow become very wealthy--diamond
mines--and had built himself a really smart navy. But his ships were
sentinels to the British Government for all that. It was deemed good
and wise for Britain to have a scout fleet like this within jumping
distance of India and the Red Sea.
The Admiralty had learned experience since 1904 and were making use of
it.
They were, as every great nation should be, on the outlook for future
eventualities. So, long before they reached the Cape everyone on board
the _Breezy_ had quite settled down into his place, and all the officers
felt at home. Moreover they all knew each other thoroughly by this
time, and knew each other's points of character also, whether hard or
soft.
It is a good thing on board a ship during a long commission for officers
to be like brothers. They are together in sunshine and in storm, in
peace and in danger. Moreover, they ought to respect even each other's
foibles.
With so kind a captain and one so interested in the welfare of those
under his command the _Breezy_ promised from the very first to be a
little community afloat, all willing to please and be pleased, and to
adhere strictly in discipline and etiquette to the rules and regulations
of the King's Navy.
As they were all young they naturally wanted to, and were determined to,
see everything there was to be seen at every port.
They were treated well wherever they went, and if they stayed but a week
at a place there was some social function or another every day, and
sometimes twice. Dances and dinners, picnics, cricket-matches, or
football-matches, fishing parties, shooting parties, or anything the
Breezies, as they came to be called, were always in it.
Sometimes, too, they gave a dinner and a dance on board, and this was a
real merry evening for all concerned.
Sailors, let me tell you reader, are far more hearty and as a rule
better liked at ball or party than soldiers.
Sailors come and sailors go, but soldiers keep on for ever. The poor
you have always with you. It is hardly fair of me to speak so perhaps,
and I hope to be forgiven.
Well, the _Breezy_ steamed up the East Coast of Africa and began work in
earnest. They visited the Sultan and the Sultan's fleet and were very
much struck with all they saw, and had a deal of as good fun as they
could ever hope to enjoy.
About Madagascar and the Mauritius they did much surveying work, and
after several months they were ordered to Australia.
By this time the Surgeon and Lieutenant Wynn had become almost
indispensable to each other. Both were scientists. Indeed the
lieutenant was studying hard for his D.Sc. (Doctor of Science), and
there is no doubt that he would attain it.
In this year of 1907 and 8 the Admiralty at home had found the utility
of always putting a round peg into a round hole, and not into a square
one. The days of promotion by seniority alone were gone by and every
officer knew that his own merits would score more than influence with
big wigs at home. Good officers can only be had through a process of
evolution. You cannot make them to order.
And it was just the same with the men forward. A smart boy who honoured
discipline was certain of soon having stripes upon his sleeve that
brought him respect, even when he went on a spell of leave back to the
humble country village where his mother and father lived, and that
necessity of life to a handsome young sailor--his little girl.
Talk of the Navy changing. The ships may change and do change, and will
keep on changing about every ten years, but Jack himself--Oh never.
He is still the handy man, and still the British heart of oak. "No
laggard in love, no dastard in war," is your bold Jack Tar.
*CHAPTER IX*
*THROUGH THE HAWSE HOLE*
To the Temple of Varieties in the city of Sidney went one evening the
young and rather girlish-faced marine officer, Surgeon McTavish, and
Lieutenant Guilford all from the _Breezy_, in order to hear a good song.
Only in mufti were they of course, but Mac's mufti was the Highland
dress and a grand appearance it gave this bold and scientific Scot.
Indeed Mac's servant was a Scot, Sandie Reid was his name, and whenever
the doctor told him to lay out his mufti it was the kilt and sporran he
got ready.
"I meant English mufti," said the doctor to him one evening.
"You'll hae that or damn the thing else?" replied Sandie with the
determination of a Scottish servant who loved his master. "You're no'
goin to give Sandie Reid a red face by seein' his master's bonnie Hielan
legs rammed into leathern drain-pipes. If ye do, ye'll hae to seek an
English servant."
The first day that the surgeon put on the Highland garb to go on shore
in was at St. Helena. The officers going on shore were waiting on the
quarterdeck for the boat and talking and laughing, when little Sneyd the
A.P. with the door-knocker countenance came up from below.
Now Sneyd was sometimes in a nasty temper and when he was so he was apt
to be a little offensive.
He had got out of his bunk that day at the wrong side perhaps, but when
he saw McTavish arrayed in the tartan of his clan, he pretended to be
startled, stepped back a pace or two and looked at him up and down.
"Is this the twentieth century?" he cried, "and do you mean to say that
the captain will allow one of his officers to go on shore dressed in
that uncivilized semi-savage costume?"
Then suddenly pretending to be heroic, "Oh, I forgot the romance of
Walter Scott," he said.
"Ne'er in battle-field beats heart more brave,
Than that which beats beneath the Scottish kilt."
McTavish laughed. But Sneyd sneered. His shot hadn't hit the bull's
eye.
"I suppose," he said, "like most Scots that join our Service, you're the
only gentleman in your family, Mr. McTavish." This was mean, for the
doctor's family were really only honest crofter folk.
"That's hitting beneath the belt," cried the engineer.
"Apologise, Sneyd."
And the others shouted for an apology.
"I refuse," said Sneyd.
"The reason being," said McTavish quietly, "that there wasn't even one
gentleman in Sneyd's family."
"Bravo, McTavish. Bravo!"
But McTavish wasn't quite done with little Sneyd.
"What's your weight, Sneyd?"
"Well, doctor," replied the A.P., conscious now that he had gone too
far, "just nine stone."
"Pooh! that's nothing. I can put up 200 lbs." And before Sneyd knew
what was up, the surgeon had seized him by the collar of his upper
garments and stood erect holding the little man straight over the sea.
"For God's sake let me down. Lower me. Lower me. I apologise!"
"Do you see the blue shark that has been following our ship for days?"'
cried McTavish.
"I see the blue devil. Do lower me, for mercy's sake."
Next moment the doctor stood him on the deck.
He did apologise now, and all was forgiven.
"Lower me," he had shouted while suspended over the sea, and everyone
admitted that on the whole he had been lowered considerably. Yet Sneyd
when not in the pet was really one of the best little men in the ship.
But about this night on shore? Well, in due course Kep came on the
stage, most takingly dressed in the uniform of a middy of the Merchant
Service.
He seemed to see no one, and probably he didn't; but he told his
story--that tragedy of the sea which now was improved by appropriate
scenery--the lantern.
His performance received round after round of applause, and when he
returned with his piccolo, and said laughing, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm
going to play you the very Sonata from Wagner, with which I used to
charm the snakes," the cheering was renewed. He was recalled three
times.
The last time he played a sweetly melancholy melody from Faust, and when
he had finished and during the appreciation lull, he drew his sleeve
across his eyes as if to wipe away a tear.
"I've got a little gal in England, ladies, and that's how."
Then he bowed himself prettily off the stage.
"But I say, McTavish," cried young Guilford, "you're positively looking
a bit pale."
"I'm taken aback," said the doctor. "I've met that boy, if boy he be,
before. At Nice I think. But it is but a fancied resemblance I can now
see to a charming Italian girl I knew for an all too brief period of my
existence."
"Well, I happen to know the lad," said Guilford. "That is the boy
Bowser. He came on board the day before we sailed, and he did make all
hands laugh I assure you, and you should have seen our fellows dancing.
We'll stroll round to the green room and see him." And so they did.
They knocked. "May we come in for one minute?" said Guilford.
"You do us honour. British Naval Officers are welcome everywhere,"
answered Mr. Howe.
Then Kep came blushing up, and Guilford shook him squarely by the hand.
This is young Charlie Bowser, Dr. McTavish. He is down in the play
bills as Gerald Montmorency.
"I say, Charlie, can you come off to-morrow evening? I'll send a boat."
"It must be at nine then, sir, after I get done here."
Charlie _alias_ Kep, or Gerald Montmorency, did come off, and great
things happened. He didn't get home till twelve, but that really didn't
matter.
He made an impression again, for he was not only a freak with the
piccolo, but the piano also, and he was a marvel from a linguistic point
of view.
Just before he left he had another interview with Lieutenant Guilford.
"I've spoken to our Captain," he said, "and if you are still of the same
mind I can get you a berth. Can you play in our little band?
"I can lead, but would rather not join the Service, sir, to be rated as
a bandsman. But," he added quickly, "it is the dream of my life to be
in this same beautiful ship. Oh, I shed tears, sir, when you sailed
past and left me on the Hoe. Yet I leave myself entirely in your
hands." He was smiling merrily as he added, "I can clean knives and
boots, sir."
"Your name isn't Bowser."
"It must remain so."
"You ran away from home."
"Yes, sir, but I won't run back, till I've seen the world and done
something. My mind is made up."
"You are fifteen?"
"Nigh on it."
"You are of good birth. I believe you, your manners are quite a model.
Will you tell us your real name?"
"I promise to do so, I will do so _sine dubio, sed sine die_.[1] When
you left, sir," he continued, "I just stuck a pin in a page of
Bradshaw's Guide, and it struck the West Indies. And thither I went.
So you see. I came into the merchant service _ad aperturam libri_."
[1] Without a doubt, but without appointing a day.
"Through the hawse-hole. Eh?"
"That is it, sir. And here I am as willing as ever to make myself
useful."
"But you are leaving a good thing. What do they pay you at the Variety
Hall?"
"Oh, three pounds a week. But I get tips from gentlemen and lots of
kisses from sweet ladies. Then I share some of my money with Adolph."
"And who may Adolph be?"
"Oh, he is head waiter at the C---- Hotel. He was steward of the
_Macbeth_, and my comrade through all that terrible time on Great Snake
Island."
"Then the mutiny and all that is really true, Charlie?"
"Yes sir, though the _plebs_ hardly believe it, and I do love Adolph
very much. An Austrian he is, sir, but we talk in French."
"Well, we have a berth open for your comrade, Charlie, and we'd like,
but it is a matter of business.--We couldn't give you L3 a week, and
there are no sweet ladies on board to shower kisses on you."
"Oh, sir," said Kep laughing, "I can easily go on shore for the kisses."
"We are going back to Africa again to make the slave-dealers hum, and
there we need an interpreter, but he must understand Spanish and
Portuguese as well as Arabic."
"Hurrah! Pardon me, Lieutenant Guilford, but I couldn't really help
saying 'Hurrah!' I'm as good as rated--interpreter to H.M.S. _Breezy_."
"Good-night, boy. Come in the first dog watch to-morrow evening, and
you shall hear our conclusion."
"Good-night, sir."
Kep went away in the dinghy.
It was a lovely starry night, with, high above, the southern cross, and
the moon's rays shimmering on the water.
Kep, who was a good diplomatist, took out his piccolo, and quavering
over the waters came now the unearthly music of that proud old song
which touches the spine of every true British sailor or soldier, namely,
"_Good-night. All's well._"
"By George!" said Guilford to McTavish, "he is a broth of a boy."
"Yes, and we must have him. He is bound to be the sauciest boy in the
Service."
Kep was rated all right--interpreter. And he so pleased the gun-room
officers that he was invited to become an honorary member of their mess.
And Kep was happy now, more especially as Adolph was chosen to supersede
the Captain's steward, who had died in the Mozambique channel.
One day very soon after, brown-faced Gunner Stormalong sought audience
of the Commander of the _Newt_.
"If you'll excuse me, sir, I want to speak a moment."
"Certainly."
"Well, sir, the _Newt_ I hear is ordered home, but the _Breezy_ will be
out for some years longer, and I'd like to be in her to serve out my
time, and Gunner Myers would take my place, if so be, sir, that you'd
let us exchange."
"Readily, Jack, readily, and if he is only half as good a man as you, he
will do for us."
"Thank you, sir, and God bless you, sir."
And Jack bowed and retired, and next day he was a gunner on the
_Breezy_.
That's how things turn out in the Service.
*CHAPTER X*
*THE BROADSWORD-MEN OF THE "BREEZY"--KEP CUTS OFF A LEG*
Young Kep Drummond's work on board the _Breezy_ was no sinecure from the
very beginning. Not that any one forced him to do things, but he was
good-hearted, and had all a well-bred boy's willingness to work and help
as well.
From the very first he had taken to the doctor, probably from that law
in nature which causes large bodies to attract smaller. This merely in
a physical sense, but it is true from the mental side also. Dr. McTavish
had a large and lofty mind. One of his chief studies was astronomy, or
rather a study of the heavens and the illimitable star-depths. Like all
students of science, he liked to be listened to by his juniors. Well,
he had a good listener and an ardent admirer in Kep.
The _Breezy_ was sent on a special mission back to the Cape of Good
Hope, whence they would receive further instructions from the Admiral of
that station, and whose house was at Symon's Bay, but his home really on
the rolling deep on board the huge flagship _Greater Britain_. She was
one of a class then being built--30,000 tons, 30 guns, 30 knots an hour.
She had a specially constructed bottom, and feared no danger from
bursting torpedoes, for the Admiral of the ship and the others of its
family could, when in action, so protect the ship that they would
explode harmlessly in the water before they could touch her bilge.
The biggest of our present-day ships would look like pigmies beside a
monster of the deep like this. The _Union_ was needed in these waters,
because the Germans and French had possessions in Africa. And in fact
these two countries, although not our open foes, were jealous of our
power at sea, and the vast amount of territory occupied. In some of
their would-fain-be comic papers the Germans cartooned Britain as the
young cuckoo who, as it grows, hustles all its other little comrades to
whom the nest in reality belongs, out of it to die. Britain with
America really meant not only to occupy the whole of Africa, and
civilize it, but the whole world was in time to become an
English-speaking world; then all wars would cease. It was a big scheme,
but then, like everything else, civilization is, as far as this earth is
concerned, infinite. It is a seed that once sown grows and expands with
marvellous rapidity, especially when aided by the fostering power of
true Christianity.
Well, in their way across the six thousand miles of lonesome water which
stretches from Australia to the Cape, although the _Breezy_ encountered
many a storm, there were many and many beautiful nights, when the sky
was clear, and the stars so near apparently, that the main truck
appeared to be moving amongst them.
It was on such nights as these that Kep loved, figuratively, to sit at
the feet of the sailor surgeon, and hear him tell the story of the
star-depths, those greater universes that exist so far from ours, that
even trying to imagine the distance has before now sent even a scientist
mad.
But Kep assisted the doctor in the dispensary also, and this was quite
as necessary on board the _Breezy_ as a study of the star-depths. And
Kep was ever handy with water, sponges, bandages and thread whenever an
operation was being performed.
There is no harm in a boy having a good opinion of his abilities, so
long as he does know a few things well.
One day the doctor, who was really and truly swinging himself hand over
hand towards a main-top battery, when he sprained his ankle. He was so
strong and so healthy that he felt he could almost fly, and this was the
result.
Next morning early Kep entered his cabin on tiptoe with a bowl of nice
ship's cocoa, which the bold surgeon, who had been awake nearly all
night with pain, gratefully drank.
"You are a good lad, Charlie."
"Yes, I know that. I suppose I can't help being so. I suppose freaks
are mostly always good-hearted. But, sir," he added coolly, "you won't
turn out to-day. You may keep your mind perfectly easy. I will see the
sick."
The doctor laughed aloud at the conceit of the lad.
An hour afterwards, with an improvised crutch under his arm and his
bathing drawers on, McTavish was forward on the upper deck, with a man
playing the sea-hose on him and his poor swollen ankle. There were
forward also the middies, and one or two of the ward-room officers, all
enjoying the same healthy fun. When stripped this marvellous athlete,
who three years ago, when only twenty years of age and still a student,
had wrestled with and overthrown a champion, was greatly admired. And
though on that day the ankle was considerably swollen he put up his 80
lb. dumb-bells just as usual.
He put Kep himself under training, and the boy began to grow from the
first fortnight thereof, though he was not tall.
His father, however, had taught him swordmanship, and at this work he
could beat every gun-room officer.
There was one man forward, namely Jack Stormalong, Kep's friend, the
gunner, who was almost as tall and well-developed as the sailor-surgeon,
who saw him stripped once, and felt his muscles.
"What arms and chest and legs for broadsword exercise _a la Scottice_,"
said the doctor.
"Be they, sir?"
"By St. Andrew, they are, Stormalong. You're good with the cutlass, I
hear."
"Fair."
"Well, I think I've found a hero worthy of my steel, and with the
permission of the first lieutenant, I shall put you under special
training, and teach you the broadsword. I've got two of those old
Highlanders, splendid bits of steel, so we shall see."
Well, Jack just set his mind to it, and soon mastered the art, and
became nearly as proficient as his master. Whenever it was possible the
doctor and Jack had broadsword play after the wash-deck bath, and before
dressing. McTavish never towelled down, and wouldn't let Jack do so.
"It isn't Scotch style," he said, to the middies who were there in full
bathing costume--drawers. "You can't have too much salt on your skin,
boys."
Even older officers would crowd forward to see the play at early
morning. They had, as usual, small bets on, and ridiculous ones, such
as "a postage stamp that has only been used once," or "a hair of the dog
that bit you," etc.
The man who was severely pressed lowered sword, and the bout was over.
But often Highland targes--two at the surgeon's directions were made by
the armourer--were used, and long, strong sword-sticks instead of the
claymores. There was good fun with these, and they were not so
dangerous. Besides, umpiring was more easy, because if one man was
marked on the skin above an important group of muscles, or received the
point, he was declared _hors de combat_.
But soon not only the gun-room officers, but the engineers became
enamoured of the play, and in time as many as ten couples might be seen
fighting like Red Indians on the deck at one time.
Finally, by the time they reached the Cape, a corps was formed of the
best athletes, men with timber on hip and calf, and these were called
the Broadsword men of the _Breezy_.
But there was an engineer from Cumberland, a splendid fellow, and
another of the same build belonging to Glasgow, who were both desperate
wrestlers, though this was unknown to any save themselves. Well, one
day there was a kind of gala performance took place on the _Breezy_, to
be followed by music and dancing in the evening, and the two engineers
resolved to vary the performance. They told the doctor, and he
sanctioned it. It would be a bit of extra fun anyhow.
It was, moreover, the captain's birthday, and the ship was beautifully
dressed with gay bunting below and aloft. The party was very select,
and many soldiers were there, and beautiful women, chiefly to see the
Broadsword-men of the _Breezy_, and to listen to Kep's piping of his
favourite _Faust_ and _Wagner_.
The deck was so seated that everyone had a good view, while the crew
clustered everywhere. There were fifteen couples entered the arena with
targe and broadsword stick. And the performance was a
never-to-be-forgotten one.
The athletes on this occasion wore the costume of stage wrestlers, but
the light jerseys of one half were crimson, the other yellow. After an
exhausting and beautifully exciting combat the yellows were declared
winners, but bouquets of splendid wild flowers from the mountains were
handed by the ladies each to the champion she favoured, whether victor
or vanquished. The giant surgeon and Jack Stormalong fought with naked
claymores, and after a time the former received a scratch on the left
shoulder. Blood ran over his shirt, but Kep was at hand, and speedily
put matters to rights, and the combat was renewed. After a display that
brought down the house, swords were lowered, the combatants saluted and
retired. The battle was a drawn one.
Then came Cumberland and Glasgow.
The onlookers received them with rapturous applause and admiration of
their splendid formation and muscle. Theirs was claymore and targe, and
after a short spell of this, with defiant shout each athlete dashed
claymore and targe away, and crouched like panthers watching for the
chance to spring.
It was catch where you can wrestling, but Donald Dinnie rules, that is,
one man must not only throw his opponent, but keep him down for one
minute. The struggle lasted for sixteen minutes, and Cumberland was
victor.
Scotland stood with arms folded across the chest grimly surveying his
friendly foe.
The doctor approached to where the Admiral and his two daughters were
seated.
"They want to have one more tulzie," he said, saluting.
"Only one then, whoever wins," said the Admiral.
Ten minutes more, and Scotland stood erect. Cumberland was carried off
the deck.
He had only been put to sleep, and soon recovered.
The Admiral recalled all the combatants now, and thanked and praised
them. So long, he said, as Britain had men like this, both Scotch and
English, to say nothing of the brave Irish, she need never fear a
foreign foe, afloat or on shore.
And the cheering almost drowned the music of the band that had struck up
"Rule, Britannia," the men singing to the melody.
"Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves."
It all ended in dinner and dancing, but every one was happy, the
Admiral's girls especially.
They had never, they said, spent a breezier evening than among the
Broadsword-men of the _Breezy_.
* * * * *
But this cruiser was too smart a ship to be allowed to remain at peace
in any place for more than a week. And now receiving orders that some
underhand work was taking place up Zanzibar way, the ship was coaled
hurriedly.
This coaling in double-quick time was not a real necessity be it known.
It is, was, ever, and will be, a species of extra drill in the service.
There was a large number of Kroomen on board, and to them fell the
largest share of the dirty work.
These sturdy blacks came from the neighbourhood of Sierra Leone. They
were not borne in the ship's books, being working hands pure and simple.
They were under the command of their own head Krooman. This man was a
forest chief in his own wild back country. He ruled his men not with a
rod of iron, but the end of a stout manilla rope, and woe betide the
backs of any who tried to shirk his duty.
But if one gave his chief an insolent word, or even look, he was tied up
and had forty lashes there and then. That was called by the Kroomen
"fum-fum."
On this particular day Surgeon McTavish had gone on shore to shoot
anything he might come across among the heath-and-geranium-clad
mountains that cluster like the hills of an earthly paradise all around
the gulph or bay.
He was an ardent student of Natural History, and his gun helped him in
his studies.
But he blamed himself to-day for taking leave on a coaling day, for some
poor fellow might have an accident. And this made him hurry back, with
his bag mostly filled with rock-rabbits and big snakes fully two hours
before sundown.
About half an hour before this a bag of coals had fallen from the dock
down upon a poor Krooman, smashing his leg in a very dreadful fashion.
The man was carried at once to the sick-bay bleeding terribly below the
knee, and a boat despatched forthwith to seek for surgical aid from the
nearest ship. There was no doctor on board that, nor on another one.
The day was exceptionally fine, even for the Cape in summer, and nearly
all surgeons had gone on shore.
"We'd better go straight to the Naval Hospital now," said the middy in
charge of the boat.
Meanwhile the man was bleeding to death in the sick bay, when Kep, with
all the coolness of a man of fifty from St. Thomas's, came upon the
scene. The lower part of the leg was "smashed to smithereens," as the
sick-bay attendant said.
"Have to come off, I think, sir?"
"Mind your own business," cried Kep haughtily. "Why on earth did you not
apply a tourniquet to the femoral artery?"
"Was taken aback, sir, and couldn't manage the thing."
"How long have you been in the Service, sir?" asked Kep indignantly, as
his busy fingers were fastening the instrument and stopping the
bleeding.
"Five years, sir."
"A jolly sight too long. I'll have you disrated. Bring the anesthetics
at once. Here, you're too slow. I'll manage that. Get out the
instruments. Lively does it. Bear a hand, while I send the man off."
"Yes, certainly, the largest amputating knife; this poor man has a thigh
like an ox."
The attendant bustled now; at the same time he was utterly surprised at
the audacity of this boy of barely fifteen.
The man was asleep, and would be kept so.
Kep had taken off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and looked at the
instruments. He knew that every one of them was chemically clean, and
saw that everything was handy on the table.
"What, sir! Excuse me, sir, but _you_ are surely not going to operate?"
"Undoubtedly I am. Don't you know that on board of the old _Victory_ in
Nelson's day a loblolly boy cut the limbs from no less than five sailors
while the battle was raging? Now then," he added, "stand by to hand me
what I want."
He made the flaps _Secundem Artem_ and sawed the bone.
"The doctor's boat!" was the shout from aft one minute after, and when
the hospital surgeon entered the poor man's leg was already raw side
down in a pail of water, and Kep coolly picking up and tying the
arteries with the shaky assistance of the attendant.
"The devil!" cried the doctor.
"No, sir," cried the attendant, "only the boy Bowser, the sauciest boy
in the Service."
"Well," said the hospital doctor, as he began to complete the operation,
laughing as he spoke, "the devil himself couldn't have done the job half
as well."
"How old are you?" he said to Kep after the poor Krooman had been put in
his cot.
"Fifteen in five days," he answered proudly. "Quite old, isn't it, sir?"
"Did the surgeon leave you in charge of the ship?"
"Oh no, sir. Dr. McTavish is away in the mountains shooting cobras and
things, but really, he is such a nice, affable fellow, that I shall
always be only too pleased to do any little job like this in his
absence."
The doctor was more amused than ever, and had a rattling good story to
tell that evening to his mess-mates.
*CHAPTER XI*
*ON THE "SCOUT"*
Because Dr. McTavish was a scientist and a thinker was no reason why he
should be otherwise than hearty and jolly.
Indeed, he was admitted to be the life and soul of the mess. He had
travelled a good deal before joining the Service, but had never quite
lost his accent. He rather preferred to retain it. But this was only
when chaffed about his tongue, and when little Mr. Sneyd, for example,
rubbed it in too hard.
But the anecdotes, often against his own country, which the surgeon used
to retail of an evening, couched in this broad accent, were often highly
laughable. As a raconteur there was little chance of his being beaten in
the _Breezy_ for some time to come.
The Captain himself never spliced the main-brace; it was his duty or
pleasure to ask the surgeon if the men needed that extra glass of grog.
But Mac loved the old tales of the sea that he had read when a boy, and
sometimes, especially on a Saturday night, he would inform Captain
Breezy or the first lieutenant that the men looked rather pallid from
the heat of the day, and that splicing the main-brace would do good.
The Captain laughed at the idea of his men looking pale, for they were
as weather-beaten as New Forest oaks, and as red in face as a full moon
setting in a fog.
But on certain Saturday nights, if the weather was all that could be
expected, Captain Breezy himself came as an invited guest into the
ward-room, and often thus assembled the officers would have what was
called a night with Burns. At dinner the band--a string one, and led on
such occasions by Kep himself--played little else save Scottish music.
Kep would play a solo on piano or piccolo, and then recite, as he well
could do, selections from Burns, notably "The Cottar's Saturday Night,"
or "Tam o' Shanter."
The anecdotes must all be Scotch, some serious and terrible enough, but
some highly ludicrous.
More than once did McTavish play solos on his great Highland bagpipes,
or dance the sword-dance, if the ship were steady enough.
Pibrochs such as this sailor-surgeon could play were not simply the jig
sort of pieces you find in books, and labelled "Pibrochs." No, they
were real Highland battle-pieces. And nowhere else would he play these
except high on the bridge, where he could walk slowly to and fro, and a
fine figure he looked arrayed in the full Highland dress. In these
Highland pibroch pieces you seemed to hear everything connected with the
gathering of the clans and the raid, from end to end.
There were the wild cries of the men who ran through the glens holding
the fiery cross in their hands, the hurrying hither and thither of the
clansmen, then the farewells to their wives or the girls they left
behind them, for as the music welled forth they were marching away
Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.
But soon, wild and terrible, you seemed to hear the slogan cries of the
Highlanders, as a quick-step was changed into a charge, then the shouts
of battle, the cry of the victor, the groaning of the wounded; then a
brief pause, succeeded by the most mournful music it is possible to
listen to, the coronach or lament for those who had fallen in battle in
their country's cause.
There was no Englishman in the ship who did not sympathize with music
like this, and Scottish sailors forward did not seek to hide their
excitement, or even their tears.
The band would play up again after this, and both officers and men, the
latter forward, the former aft, would mingle in the mazy dance.
Kep, as interpreter, was dressed in very neat uniform, that of a
midshipman, but without distinctive marks. He frequently went forward of
an evening with his marvellous piccolo to play hornpipes to the men, and
give them a change of swinging their legs about, and really to witness
the motions of some of the _Breezy_ best dancers one could not have
helped wondering why they did not shake their legs off, as the
jellyfishes sometimes do.
So we must admit that the _Breezy_ was a merry as well as a happy ship.
There were times, however, when there was very little merriness in their
heads.
Terrible storms sometimes raged, especially in the regions round
Madagascar, where surveying had to be carried on day after day, if
possible, for weeks at a time.
Into gulfs or bays the surveying boats had sometimes to fly, and
probably barely save their lives, so suddenly did squalls, that ended in
fierce hurricanes, come on.
The squalls would come first, and, raging and tearing hither and thither
for a time, churning the sea into a chaos of froth or spume, suddenly
retire, when there would be an ominous lull for a time. They had been
but acting as vanguard to the advance of the great army of cloud and
storm that followed, startling the fish of the sea and beasts of the
mountains with its thunders, lighting the darkness of day with the
red-blue blinding glare of the electric hurricane--the thick and fearful
darkness of the day.
But the boats that were away surveying usually had a pleasant time. Kep
was always on board one of these, for his gift of tongues often came in
handy with the natives, many of whom were French or Portuguese.
Once no less than three men were washed overboard from a boat, which was
almost capsized. No, their bodies were never recovered, and there would
be sad hearts somewhere in England when the news reached home.
From the ship itself in many places soundings were taken, and the
executive officers and navigating lieutenant had plenty to do in the
making of fresh charts.
For a country like ours to know every part of the sea's bottom is highly
important, because in a naval battle, say somewhere round the coast of
the Mauritius, or in coral seas of the far Pacific ocean, the side that
had the best charts of reefs and deep water would almost surely
manoeuvre the enemy into a tight corner, from which there would be no
exit.
The _Breezy_ carried a new invention in the shape of a diving bell with
strong plate-glass windows, with a telephone by means of which the
officer on board could converse with the workmen below. In this
wonderful bell men could examine the bottom either by night or by day,
and wonderful were the sights they saw at times, and awful nightmare
faces used often to glare in at them.
All sunken wrecks were sometimes examined with the aid of the bell, and
more than once gold was found. This was treasure trove; nevertheless,
though it belonged to the king, much of it would be paid back in
prize-money to the officers and crew.
* * * * *
For two long months did the _Breezy_ haunt the eastern shores of Africa.
There were men in the Admiralty then, and they would have things done
well, no matter what the cost might be.
It is needless to say that the ship received mails periodically from
home, and a tiny dispatch boat--a kind of steam-and-sail dhow--used to
be sent to seek for the _Breezy_, and deliver the letters, papers, and
sealed orders to the crew.
Needless to say, it was a red-letter day when a mail-bag came, and
though both officers and men sometimes received news that did not please
them, or even caused them grief, no one, unless asked, was unmanly
enough to speak of his own troubles. It was the custom rather to seek
to know the sorrows of others, and try to console them.
Kep's letters from his sister were always long and delightful. But one
day he was startled to be told that his father was in difficulties, and
in terrible grief in consequence.
"And oh, dear Kep," the letter went on, "though I am eighteen, I feel
but a child. I care for nobody now save father, but two years younger I
thought I did care for some one. I have never told you this; I would
not even now, but father considered him unworthy to marry the daughter
of a wealthy Drummond, and forbade him the house. He never came again;
but if a girl of sixteen, my age at the time--you were in Scotland,
dear--can love, he took my heart with him. My grief was more poignant
and lasting than when our dear mother passed away.
"But, Kep, to save us from the ruin that like a thunder-cloud must burst
over Martello Castle, father wants me to, almost commands me to, marry a
wealthy Jew, whom I can never, never love. He is not only wealthy, but
handsome and distinguished, and my union with him would save the
situation, and perhaps poor father's life. I cannot, oh, I cannot, yet
do not be surprised to find that I am driven to it, etc., etc."
The steam dhow was to wait for letters, and Kep had to write against
time. But the gist of his letter was--"Marry no one you cannot both
respect and love. Death is to be preferred. Trust in God, Sissie dear.
I am very young, but I do think God will forsake no one who puts his
trust in Him. If father is so ill-advised as to try to force you into a
marriage with this man, leave Martello, and reside with some friend or
friendly relative until my ship comes home."
Kep was naturally a happy-minded, hopeful boy, and though he prayed
longer that night in his hammock than usual, and even in his fervour
shed a few tears, he fell soundly asleep, and next morning was his own
old self again, feeling satisfied that no storm would ever burst on the
Martello estate.
* * * * *
For many years there had been a lull in the slave-trade. Few dhows were
now captured, and it was believed the Arabs had almost given up the
terrible game.
But lately, strange to say, it had broken out with greater vigour than
ever.
There was some secret power behind the daring raids of these Arab
gentlemen. This was supposed to be Portugal, for she--though ever
fair-tongued and cringing to the British--had always been in favour of
slavery, and would have given a good deal to see even Germany
predominant along the shores, and on the sea as well.
But there had very recently been a new Sultan raised to the throne of
Zanzibar, and so frequently was he found to be in league with the German
Consulate there, that acting on orders from home the Captain of the
_Breezy_ paid the Palace a visit.
His arrival was by appointment made by the Sultan, and the visit paid
was, to all appearance, unofficial.
But after the usual courtesies, and meat and betelnut, Captain Breezy,
with his first lieutenant, and Kep as interpreter, opened the real
"talkee-talkee."
There was much shilly-shallying, and much untruth and fighting shy of
the subject on the part of the youthful potentate, so that the honest
sailor was disgusted, and through Kep told the Sultan that as the
British had placed him on the throne, so the British would pull him down
if he attempted to kick over the traces.
"Down goes the Palace about your Sultanic ears, and up goes another
Sultan, if you do not within twenty-four hours sign a treaty with us,
and henceforth leave Germans and Portuguese severely alone."
That treaty was signed, for the Sultan was little more than a boy, but
the intriguing was continued from another direction.
For the city of Lamoo on the equator, and many miles up the river, had
of late years become greatly improved and powerful.
It had been but a protectorate of Zanzibar and its Sultan. Now it
suddenly began to be independent, and shortly after the events I am now
going to relate showed signs of unusual activity.
Rich diamond mines had been found, it was said, in the far interior, and
why should not Lamoo go in for its navy as well as Zanzibar.
I fear that most of Zanzibar's ships were put there by means of British
coin, and not diamond mines, so if Lamoo's men-o'-war were lent her or
given to her by Portugal or Germany, it would be simply a matter of
diamond cut diamond when the crisis came.
Meanwhile Britain was, to all appearance, hoodwinked. On the coast of
Africa her only policy appeared to be to sweep slaving Arab dhows from
off the Indian Ocean.
In this she was assisted by other ships of the station, all of which by
means of wireless telegraphy were within hail of each other.
Officers going on shore from a ship are usually met by a nigger, who may
be of any age from fourteen to forty, only he is always called a boy,
and acts for the time being as a city guide or guide through the
beautifully-wooded island.
The gentlemen Arabs had their own plan of espionage. In intellect they
considered themselves far above a Briton, and in this same art of
espionage they undoubtedly were, as well as in every devilish device
that might be applied to it.
Never an officer who landed on the white sands but was shadowed, and
never even an ordinary seaman. Of a party of these latter they took but
little heed, well knowing that as a general rule they betook themselves
to some hotel, where they might drink a glass or two, have a song and
smoke and yarn and be down in time to the beach to meet the liberty
boat. A single officer, or even two, were warily followed whereever
they went.
Kep's boy was a clever little rascal, not a day older than himself. A
Somali he was, but knew a little English, and plenty of Arabic. As they
generally set off to the woods to gather butterflies or lizard-hunting,
the Arabs took very little heed of them.
But all the while Kep was picking up the Swahili or Somali language.
Out in the forest the two together performed all kinds of monkey tricks,
and Kep could soon climb cocoa-nut trees and pitch down the fruit as
cleverly even as quick young Bungle. He had some other name, but Bungle
suited him well enough, and the lad was rather proud of it than
otherwise.
Kep on these little rambles managed to mix a good deal with both
low-class and high-class Arabs, but he always kept his ears pricked and
his weather-eye lifting.
When in an Arab's house, presumably to drink the splendid coffee which
only an Arab can make, Kep pretended not to know a single word of either
Somali or Arabic, and thus he gained a considerable deal of information,
which was of great use to Captain Breezy.
The Arabs watched the _Breezy_ put to sea to the nor'ard. They had
counted every man and officer who went on board, then they sighed sighs
of relief, and thanked Allah that the villainous Britons had gone.
But one thing none of them had noticed, for when night had fallen, and
the _Breezy_ was opposite a wooded point of the island, she was stopped.
A light was flashed over her side just once, and presently out from the
dark forest shadows stole a tiny black out-rigger boat, and was rowed
silently across the star-lit sea, till she reached the ship's side.
"Good-bye, dear lad; good-bye, and Heaven bless and keep you."
It was Kep whom the officers were saying farewell to and seeing over the
side.
He was an adept at disguise, and now it seemed no longer Kep that was
standing among the officers, but a very handsome Arab boy. He had even
stained his feet, legs, arms and face an olive tint. He wore sandals on
his feet, a little turban on his head, and carried a spear.
It was McTavish himself that spoke the last farewell.
"Take care of yourself, boy," he said. "May God bring you safe back to
us. Good-bye."
And waving a salute, Kep passed silently over the side, and the ship
went on.
*CHAPTER XII*
*A STARTLING ADVENTURE IN THE WOODS--THE CHIEF'S PLOT*
Without Kep on board, the _Breezy_ didn't seem the same that night
either to officers or men. He was missed in the gun-room mess, and
missed in the ward-room, while the crew sadly missed the merry notes of
his little black flute. But Kep was by this time alone in the woods
with his faithful little black guide Bungle.
Brave though Kep undoubtedly was, he felt a little nervous to-night in
those dreary woods. There are strange weird sounds in them by night.
Bungle could find his way here on the darkest night, but the dread that
they might be watched was in both hearts, and several times they stopped
and crept farther into the gloom as the sound of approaching footsteps
fell upon their ears. Kep had two tiny revolvers of the best make, and
meant to use them if attacked. His life was of some little value to him,
and he would sell it dearly.
They saw figures glide past them, but these passed on, and they resumed
their journey.
It was five long miles to the suburbs of this half-barbarian city. But
once they began to come among the glimmering lights, Bungle and Kep
separated. They knew when and where to meet again.
Kep held on now, boldly exchanging a "Yambo" or "Yambo Sana" with a
stranger, until he entered a side lane and darted quickly into a house.
The house of an Arab friend it was. He lived there all alone with his
child, a soft-eyed little Arab maid of some ten years, whose life Kep
had saved in the street by shooting dead in his tracks a hulking black
naked and low-caste Arab, who had seized the child with the intention of
abducting her.
She had been able to tell Kep, frightened though she was, where she
lived, and the strong, hardy British boy had mounted her on his shoulder
and carried her to her grateful father's house.
The fellow he had shot was buried out of the way, and no questions
asked.
Such a favour as this no Arab could forget, so Kep knew he was safe
enough there. But at first the Arab did not know the boy in his
disguise.
The child knew him first, and ran to embrace him.
"You are very beautiful now," she said in her pretty Arabic, "and little
Zeena loves you."
A steamer from India was due at Zanzibar next day, and all unsuspected,
though gazed at by a thousand eyes, Kep betook himself to the beach and
soon was engaged as guide to a lady who seemed fascinated with him.
He talked to her in broken English, called her "Meesie" (little Miss),
and took her all through the town all day long and into the woods.
On parting with him, Kep certainly was not the loser, for he found
half-a-crown in his hand, and a kiss on his cheek.
"Mamma," the girl told her mother frankly when she returned, "I've had
the sweetest Arab boy for a guide ever any one saw, and he seemed so
pleased when I kissed him."
The ship lay coaling, etc., for four days, and every day Kep was on the
beach to guide the young lady.
Though Arabs did not know him, they put him down as simply a boy of a
different tribe, trying to make some money.
But in this way Kep was able to confer with Bungle any day he liked, and
every night he lay _perdu_ in his friend's house.
He was soon able to mingle freely in the best and worst Arab society,
and one night, to his great joy but quite by accident, he made a
marvellous discovery, which, as it turned out, was of the greatest
importance.
His residence with this faithful Arab Kep enjoyed most thoroughly. In
fact, he was very much at home, and did not for the present, at all
events, long for the return of the _Breezy_. She was gone on a cruise
up Aden way, and it would be six weeks before she could again cast
anchor in Zanzibar waters.
Kep had a capital opportunity now of improving his Arabic and Swahili,
and he was not slow in taking advantage of it.
The Arab himself taught him a great deal, especially as to writing, and
the construction of words and phrases. But Zeena taught him much more,
and her language was probably more useful, as it was of a conversational
kind. Zeena was very clever, as well as very innocent and charming.
But Arab children in these tropical countries are like tropical flowers,
they come early to maturity, and Zeena, though but ten, had all the
wisdom of, and perhaps a good deal more, than an English girl of
sixteen. Yet she was as sweet and innocent in all her ways as a baby.
There are white Arabs, swarthy olive Arabs, and black. Zeena and her
father were white and of high caste.
I don't think I should be going a bit too far if I told you that Kep
came to love the child almost as much he loved Madge his sister.
Zeena's rapt attention to all he told her about his own far-away land
was very flattering to the boy. She seemed to hang on every word he
said. When the great lamp was lit, she sat cross-legged on a pretty
ottoman beside him, and when tired of listening, she leaned back and
fell sound asleep, looking then in her crimson evening robes of silk, so
Kep told himself, as beautiful as an houri of the Arab's paradise. This
room, with its strange furniture and rich hangings was paradise enough
to Kep. Meanwhile, the father sat quietly by, reading, ever reading.
It was one night when belated in the forest or jungle that Kep had a
strange adventure. He came upon a group of Arabs, all armed to the
teeth and talking round a fire.
The boy crept nearer and nearer, till he could hear every word spoken.
Yet well he knew that discovery meant imprisonment or even death itself.
They were gentlemen Arabs, soldiers and slave-raiders all in one, and
some, Kep could tell from their uniforms, were servants of the Sultan of
Lamoo himself.
Their meeting here in the open forest probably showed a want of caution.
But they believed they had no need to fear anything. There was not a
warship anywhere on the coast, and all in this island were friends. So
they drank their coffee and squatted round the fire, conversing freely.
Just beyond the spot where under a bush Kep lay hidden, a sentinel had
been placed, and into whose arms the boy at first had almost
precipitated himself. The duty of this man was to keep walking round in
a circle, stopping occasionally to give vent to a long, low, bird-like
whistle, as a signal that all was well.
Kep smiled at this. Had the sentry only known how near to him Kep was!
By raising a little of the foliage that screened him, the boy could not
only hear better, but see the faces of the men as well. One was a bold
and peculiarly good-featured man. His sword and sword-belt were
bejewelled. He wore a gilded turban, and the huge dark-green cloak that
covered him, showed he was a scion of the prophet's. The others
addressed him with tokens of great respect, and listened almost in
silence to his proposals.
One of these was of so terrible and daring a character that Kep could
hardly believe that they were made in earnest, and he shuddered as he
listened.
The plot that more immediately concerned Kep was one to get the British
cruisers sent off from the equatorial part of the coasts, in order that
they might run an immense cargo of slaves from villages far in the
interior, and get safely away before they could possibly be discovered.
This chief was well known to the gun-boats and cruisers on the coast. A
price had been set on his head. If caught, his would indeed be a short
shrift, for he had been guilty of wholesale murder and slaughter.
At this moment he had a fleet of dhows under his command, of which he
was admiral; he had a whole army of Arabs and Somalis on shore, of which
a brother of his was general; and the two between them had managed to
make fools of the British times without number.
Abdularram, as the chief was called, and his brother had been very
active lately. The latter had journeyed into the far interior of Africa
with his followers. In this wild foray the brother of Abdul had been
more than usually fortunate. He had made a _detour_, and had come to
pastures new, swooping down upon defenceless village after defenceless
village, laying them waste with fire and sword, and bearing thence the
strongest and youngest of the men and women.
These attacks were accompanied by all the horrors incidental to the
slave trade, but probably worse even than ever they had been in the
older days.
They were worse, for this reason. As a rule, the Arabs do not at once
attack primitive villages. They prefer to pretend friendship for the
unsuspecting and innocent natives. They follow the same tactics as did
the brutal soldiery at the massacre of Glencoe. When they succeed in
lulling to sleep every suspicion, and causing the poor blades to believe
firmly that the strangers are their friends, then they rise. And for a
night or two hell itself seems let loose upon earth. The midnight
darkness is lit up by the blazing of the grass huts; in the lurid glare
the wild and beautiful scenery, its rolling hills, its waving woods and
lakes, look strangely weird; but in the stillness of the night the most
heart-rending screams and mournful pleadings for mercy may be heard even
miles away, the pop-pop-popping of rifles also, if resistance has been
made to the onslaught; if not, sounds that are more sickening
still--dull, heavy thuds that speak of brains dashed out and of old men
and women lying murdered in cold blood.
But in the present instance there had been no time to form sham
friendships with the natives. The attack on each village had been
therefore made suddenly, and without warning of any kind. The fighting
natives were speedily driven in, the conqueror followed, and the
butchery began.
The best of the natives were soon weeded out and placed in chained
gangs, paralysed with fear, smitten to the heart with the awful calamity
that had come upon them like a bolt from the blue, and hardly daring to
utter a cry, though low moans and piteous cries escaped the poor women
as they saw perhaps their babies tossed on the spears of the Arabs, and
their grey-headed fathers and mothers clubbed as ruthlessly as if they
were but cattle led out for slaughter.
Village after village was raided and laid in ashes, and probably the
biggest haul of slaves ever taken eastward was soon _en route_ for the
distant coast.
All this and much more Kep learned from the conversation of these Arabs
to-night.
He was thanking his stars for his good fortune, when close beside him in
the bush there was a rustle and the sound of a breaking twig.
The sentry had heard it too, and suddenly gave the alarm. Every Arab
sprang to his feet and laid his hand on his sword.
Poor Kep's heart seemed to cease beating. He thought his last hour had
come, but he kept his place and remained quiet and still. Suddenly the
chief broke into a fit of laughing, as an enormous grey and warty lizard
crept silently into the light.
Kep's life was spared. Had this lizard gone the other way and not been
seen by the Arabs, spears would have prodded the bush, and his doom
would have been sealed.
As it was, he was glad when they left, glad to find himself alone once
more, and gladder still when he reached the friendly Arab's house and
received his evening welcome from him and little Zeena.
*CHAPTER XIII*
*PREPARING FOR THE FIGHT*
Two weeks passed away, and happy though he was, Kep was longing for his
ship to return in order that he might report what he had found out, and
so frustrate the plans of the savage Arab chief.
He watched for her in vain however.
But one evening while alone with his friends, the door was quietly
opened, and Bungle himself entered as silently as a gecko lizard.
That he had something important to communicate could, however, be seen
in his very look and gesture.
"Hist!" he said, pointing towards the door, which he had carefully
closed. "P'haps bad man he follow Bungle."
He spoke in a solemn whisper, and coming nearer to Kep's side, uttered
just two words that caused our little hero's heart to rejoice.
"Ship come."
"Truly?"
"Foh true, sah. She dere now."
Kep forgot everything else in his excitement. For the time being even
his little Zeena counted for nothing.
He hurried beachwards alone.
There was a ship in the roadstead certainly, but it was not the
_Breezy_.
He was not even certain she was British, but he waited and waited. And
not far off Bungle was waiting too.
By and bye a white boat came rushing through the water shorewards, and
Kep could tell even by the sturdy thump-thump of oars in rowlocks that
they were hearts of oak who manned her.
She was smartly hauled up, and a young lieutenant sprang out.
Kep rushed up to him.
"You wantee one boy guide, sah? I plenty goodee guide, plenty goodee!"
The lieutenant looked down.
"Thank you, little man, but I know my way. I am going no further than
the Consulate to-night."