They were singularly quiet, these people on board the junks, I suppose
from old experience teaching them that noise made might mean at one time
discovery and death, at another the alarming of some valuable intended
prize.
This quietness was remarkable, for as we listened there was the creaking
and straining of the rough capstan used, but no shouted orders, no
singing in chorus by the men tugging at the bars; all was grim silence
and darkness, while we lay-to there, waiting and listening to the
various faint sounds, till we heard the rattling of the reed-sails as
they were hauled up. Then we knew that the junks were off, for there
came to us that peculiar flapping, rattling sound made by the waves
against a vessel's planks, and this was particularly loud in the case of
a roughly-built Chinese junk.
"Are you going to follow them at once?" I said in a whisper.
"Yes, till within an hour of daylight," was the reply. "Now, be
silent."
I knew why Mr Brooke required all his attention to be directed to the
task he had on hand--very little reflection was necessary. For it was a
difficult task in that black darkness to follow the course of those two
junks by sound, and keep doggedly at their heels, so as to make sure
they did not escape. And then once more the slow, careful steering was
kept up, Mr Brooke's hand guiding mine from time to time, while now for
the most part we steered to follow the distant whishing sound made by
the wind in the junk's great matting-sails.
All at once, when a strange, drowsy feeling was creeping over me, I was
startled back into wakefulness by Mr Brooke, who said in an angry
whisper--
"Who's that?"
I knew why he spoke, for, though half-asleep the moment before, I was
conscious of a low, guttural snore.
"Can't see, sir," came from one of the men. "Think it's Mr Ching."
"No; Ching never makee nose talk when he s'eep," said the Chinaman, and
as he spoke the sound rose once more.
"Here, hi, messmate, rouse up!" said the man who had before spoken.
"Eh? tumble-up? our watch?" growled Tom Jecks. "How many bells is--"
"Sit up, Jecks," whispered Mr Brooke angrily. "Next man take the
sheet."
There was the rustling sound of men changing their places, and I heard
the coxswain whispering to the others forward.
"No talking," said Mr Brooke; and we glided on again in silence, but
not many yards before a light gleamed out in front.
"Quick, down at the bottom, all of you! Ching, take the tiller!"
We all crouched down; Ching sat up, holding the tiller, and the light
ahead gleamed out brightly, showing the sails and hulls of the two great
junks only fifty yards away, and each towing a big heavy boat. There
were the black silhouettes, too, of figures leaning over the stern, and
a voice hailed us in Chinese, uttering hoarse, strange sounds, to which
Ching replied in his high squeak.
Then the man gave some gruff order, and Ching replied again. The light
died out, and there was silence once more.
"What did he say?" whispered Mr Brooke.
"Say what fo' sail about all in dark?"
"Yes, and you?"
"Tell him hollid big gleat lie! Say, go catchee fish when it glow
light."
"Yes."
"And pilate say be off, or he come in boat and cuttee off my head."
Mr Brooke hesitated for a few moments, and then reached up, took the
tiller, and we lay-to again for quite an hour.
"Only make them suspicious if we are seen following, Herrick. Let them
get well away; I daresay we can pick them up again at daybreak."
But all the same he manipulated the boat so as not to be too far away,
and arranged matters so well that when at last the dawn began to show in
the east, there lay the two junks about six miles away, and nothing but
the heavy sails visible from where we stood.
We all had an anxious look round for the _Teaser_, but there were no
tell-tale wreaths of smoke showing that our vessel was on her way back,
and there seemed to be nothing for us to do but slowly follow on along
shore, at such a distance from the junks as would not draw attention to
the fact of their being followed, till we could catch sight of our own
ship and warn our people of the vessels; or, failing that, lie in on the
way to warn the junk which Ching believed would sail from the river
before long.
Mr Brooke reckoned upon our being provisioned for two days, and as soon
as it was light he divided the little crew into two watches, one of
which, self included, was ordered to lie down at once and have a long
sleep.
I did not want to lie down then, for the drowsy sensations had all
passed away; but of course I obeyed, and, to my surprise, I seemed to
find that after closing my eyes for two minutes it was evening; and,
upon looking round, there lay the land upon our right, while the two
junks were about five miles away, and the boat turned from them.
"Have you given up the chase, Mr Brooke?" I said.
"Yes, for the present; look yonder."
He pointed towards the north-west, and there, some three miles distant,
and sailing towards us, was another junk coming down with the wind.
"Another pirate?" I cried.
"No, my lad; evidently the junk of which Ching told us."
"And you are going to warn her of the danger, sir?"
"Exactly; we can't attack, so we must scheme another way of saving the
sheep from the wolves."
As we sailed on we could see that the fresh junk was a fine-looking
vessel, apparently heavily laden; and, after partaking of my share of
the provisions, which Ching eagerly brought for me out of the little
cabin, I sat watching her coming along, with the ruddy orange rays of
the setting sun lighting up her sides and rigging, and brightening the
showy paint and gilding with which she was decorated, so that they had
quite a metallic sheen.
"Take a look back now," said Mr Brooke. "What do you make of the
pirate junks?"
"They seem to be lying-to, sir," I said.
"Then they have seen their plunder, and the sooner we give warning the
better. She must turn and run back at once, or they will be after and
capture her before she can reach port again."
Just then I saw him stand up and give a sharp look round, his face
wearing rather an anxious expression.
"You can't see the _Teaser_, sir?" I said.
"No, my lad; I was looking at the weather. I fear it is going to blow a
hurricane. The sky looks rather wild."
I had been thinking that it looked very beautiful, but I did not say so.
Certainly, though, the wind had risen a little, and I noticed that Tom
Jecks kept on glowering about him in a very keen way.
Just then Mr Brooke shook out the little Union Jack which we had
brought from our sinking boat, and held it ready to signal the coming
junk, which was now only about a mile away, and came swiftly along, till
our leader stood right forward, holding on by a stay, and waved the
little flag.
"Three cheers for the red, white, and blue!" muttered Tom Jecks. "Look
at that now. We in this here little cock-boat just shows our colours,
and that theer great bamboo mountain of a thing goes down on her
marrow-bones to us, metty-phizickly. See that, Mr Herrick, sir?"
"Yes, Tom," I said excitedly; "and it's something to be proud of too."
For, in obedience to our signals, I saw one of the many Chinamen on
board wave his hands as he seemed to be shouting, and the great vessel
slowly and cumbrously rounded to, so that in a few minutes we were able
to run close alongside.
"Tell them to heave us a rope, Ching," said Mr Brooke, and the
interpreter shouted through his hands, with the result that a heavy coil
came crashing down, and was caught by Tom Jecks, who was nearly knocked
overboard.
"We said a rope, not a hawser," growled the man, hauling in the rope.
"Better shy a few anchors down too, you bladder-headed lubbers!"
"Now, say I want to speak to the captain," said Mr Brooke.
A showily-dressed Chinaman leaned over the side of the huge tower of a
poop, and smiled down on us.
"Are you the captain?" cried Mr Brooke, and Ching interpreted.
"Say he the captain," said Ching; "and you please walkee up top sidee
big junk."
"Yes, it will be better," cried Mr Brooke. "Come with me, Herrick.
You too, Ching, of course. There, keep her off a bit, Jecks, or you'll
have the boat swamped."
He seized the right moment, and began to climb up the junk's side. I
followed, and Ching was close at my heels, the clumsy vessel giving
plenty of foothold; and we soon stood upon the deck, where some dozen or
so Chinese sailors pointed aft to where the captain stood, bowing and
smiling.
We had a rough set of bamboo steps to mount to the clumsy poop-deck, and
there found the captain and half-a-dozen more of his men waiting.
"Now, Ching, forward," I said. But he hung back and looked strange.
"Don't be so jolly modest," I whispered; "we can't get on without you to
interpret."
At that moment there came a loud hail from our boat, invisible to us
from where we stood, and there was a tremendous splash.
"What's the matter?" cried Mr Brooke, making for the side; but in an
instant the attitude of the Chinaman changed. One moment the captain
was smiling at us smoothly; the next there was an ugly, look in his
eyes, as he shouted something to his men, and, thrusting one hand into
his long blue coat, he made a quick movement to stop Mr Brooke from
going to the side.
The various incidents took place so quickly that they almost seemed to
be simultaneous. One moment all was peace; the next it was all war, and
the warnings I heard came together.
"Pilate! pilate!" shouted Ching.
"Look out for yourself, my lad! Over with you!" roared Mr Brooke, as I
saw him dash at the Chinese captain, and, with his left fist extended,
leap at the scoundrel, sending him rolling over on the deck.
"Now!" cried Mr Brooke again, "jump!"
"Jlump! jlump!" yelled Ching; and with a bound I was on the great carven
gangway, just avoiding three men who made a rush for me, and the next
moment I had leaped right away from the tower-like stern of the huge
junk, and appeared to be going down and down for long enough through the
glowing air before striking the water with a heavy splash, and
continuing my descent right into the darkness, from which it seemed to
me that I should never be able to rise again.
At last my head popped out of the dark thundering water, and, blinking
my eyes as I struck out, I was saluted with a savage yelling; the water
splashed about me, and I heard shots; but for a few moments, as I looked
excitedly round, I did not realise that I was being pelted with pieces
of chain, and fired at as a mark for bullets.
But in those brief moments I saw what I wanted: Mr Brook and Ching safe
and swimming towards me, and the boat not many yards behind them, with
two of our men at the oars, and the others opening fire upon the people
who crowded the side of the junk, and yelled at us and uttered the most
savage throats.
"This way, Herrick, my lad," panted Mr Brooke, as he reached me. "Ah!
did that hit you?"
"No, sir, only splashed up the water; I'm all right!" I cried; "the
bullet didn't touch."
"Swim boat! swim boat!" cried Ching excitedly.
But our danger was not from the water but the sharp fire which the
Chinese kept up now, fortunately without killing any of us. Then the
boat glided between us and the junk, ready hands were outstretched from
the side, and I was hauled in by Tom Jecks, who then reached over and
grasped Ching by the pigtail.
"No, no touchee tow-chang!" roared the poor fellow.
"All right; then both hands and in with you."
"Lay hold of the sheet, Jecks!" cried Mr Brooke, who sprang over the
thwart to the tiller, rammed it down, and the sail began to fill, but
only slowly, for the towering junk acted as a lee, and all the time the
men yelled, pelted, and fired at us.
"Look out, my lads; give it to them now. Make fast the sheet, Jecks,
and get your rifle. Ten pounds to the man who brings down the captain!"
roared Mr Brooke. "Here, Herrick, my gun!" he cried; and, handing it
to him, I seized mine, thrust in two wet cartridges with my wet fingers,
and, doubting whether they would go off, I took aim at a man on the
poop, who was holding a pot to which another was applying a light.
The next minute the pot was in a blaze, and the man raised it above his
head to hurl it right upon us, but it dropped straight down into the sea
close to the junk, and the man staggered away with his hands to his
face, into which he must have received a good deal of the charge of
duck-shot with which my piece was charged.
Excited by my success, I fired the second barrel at a man who was
leaning over the bulwarks, taking aim at us with his great clumsy
matchlock, and his shot did not hit any one, for the man dropped his
piece overboard and shrank away.
As I charged again, I could hear and see that our lads were firing away
as rapidly as they could up at the crowded bulwarks, while Tom Jecks was
making his piece bear upon the deck of the high poop whenever he could
get a shot at the captain; and now, too, Mr Brooke was firing off his
small-shot cartridges as rapidly as possible, the salt water not having
penetrated the well-wadded powder enclosed in the brass cases.
By this time we were fifty yards away from the junk, and gliding more
rapidly through the water, which was splashed up about us and the boat
hit again and again with a sharp rap by the slugs from the Chinamen's
matchlocks.
The men were returning the fire with good effect as we more than once
saw, and twice over one of the wretches who sought to hurl a blazing pot
of fire was brought down.
"They can't hurt us now," I thought, as I ceased firing, knowing that my
small-shot would be useless at the distance we now were, when I saw a
spark of light moving on the poop, and then sat paralysed by horror as I
grasped what was going to take place. It was only a moment or two
before there was a great flash and a roar, with a puff of
sunset-reddened smoke, hiding the poop of the junk; for they had
depressed a big swivel gun to make it bear upon us, and then fired,
sending quite a storm of shot, stones, and broken pieces of iron
crashing through the roof of our little cabin, and tearing a great hole
in our sail.
"That's done it!" shouted Tom Jecks, giving the stock of his rifle a
heavy slap.
"You've hit him?" cried Mr Brooke.
"Yes, sir; I caught him as he stood by watching the cannon fired."
"Yes, that's right," cried Mr Brooke, shading his eyes and gazing hard
at the scene on the high poop, where, in the last rays of the setting
sun, we could see men holding up their captain, who was distinctive from
his gay attire and lacquered hat, which now hung forward as the
scoundrel's head drooped upon his breast.
"Cease firing!" said Mr Brooke, for we were a hundred yards away now,
and rapidly increasing the distance. "We can do no more good. Thank
you, Jecks. Now then, who is hurt?"
There was no reply.
"What, no one?" cried Mr Brooke.
"Yes, sir: why don't you speak out, Tom Jecks? You got it, didn't you?"
"Well, so did you; but I arn't going to growl."
"More arn't I, messmate. It's nothing much, sir."
"Let me see," said Mr Brooke, as we sailed steadily away, while the
junk still remained stationary; and, after a rapid examination, he
plugged and bound a wound in the man's shoulder, and performed a similar
operation upon Tom Jeck's hind-leg, as he called it, a bullet or slug
having gone right through the calf.
I could not help admiring the calm stolidity with which the two men bore
what must have been a painful operation, for neither flinched, but sat
in turn gazing at his messmate, as much as to say, "That's the way to
take it, my lad; look at me."
This done, Mr Brooke turned his attention to the wound received by the
boat, where the charge from the swivel gun had gone crashing through the
top of the cabin and out at the side. It was a gaping wound in the
slight planking of the boat, but the shot had torn their way out some
distance above the water-line, so that unless very rough weather came on
there was no danger, and we had other and more serious business now to
take up our attention.
For Ching pointed out to us a certain amount of bustle on board the
junk, which was explained by a puff of smoke and a roar, as
simultaneously the water was ploughed up close to our stern.
"Not clever at their gun drill," said Mr Brooke coolly, as he took the
helm himself now, and sent the boat dancing along over the waves, so as
to keep her endwise to the junk, and present a smaller object for the
pirate's aim.
"That's bad management under some circumstances, Herrick," he said,
smiling. "It's giving an enemy the chance of raking us from stern to
stem, but I don't believe they can hit us.--I thought not."
He said this smiling, as the water was churned up again by another shot,
but several yards away upon our right.
Another shot and another followed without result, and by this time we
were getting well out of range of the swivel gun, a poor, roughly-made
piece, and our distance was being rapidly increased.
"Going away!" said Ching, as we saw the great mat-sails of the junk
fill.
"Or to come in chase--which?" said Mr Brooke quietly. "It does not
matter," he added; "we shall soon have darkness again, and I think we
shall be too nimble for them then."
"Beg pardon, sir," said Tom Jecks.
"Yes, what is it? Your wound painful?"
"Tidy, sir; but that warn't it. I was only going to say, look yonder."
He pointed right away east, and, as we followed his finger with our
eyes, they lit upon a sight which would have even made me, inexperienced
as I was, think it was time to seek the shelter of some port. And that
something unusual was going to happen, I knew directly from Mr Brooke's
way of standing up to shelter his eyes, and then, after gazing for some
time in one direction, he turned in that of the great Chinese port we
had so lately left.