A FEARFUL NIGHT.
But the scene changes, and will change still more as this story runs
on.
Our heroes are back once more in the _Rattler_, that only last night
bumped out over the bar, and is now lying alongside the _Centiped_.
Colonel Fraser, of course, has returned to his own barracks, and the
officers of the expedition, including Creggan, are at dinner on board
the larger ship, telling and talking of all their wild adventures.
"Now, gentlemen," said the captain, "I have news for you, which I
would not tell you before, lest it should spoil your appetites."
They all waited to hear it.
"The _Wasp_, outward bound for the slave-coast of Eastern Africa,
lay-to here three days ago and sent a boat with letters for you all."
"How delightful!" cried Creggan excitedly.
"And, Captain Flint,--the _Rattler_ is ordered home."
"Hurrah!" cried Grant, and there was a general clapping of hands all
round the table, and I'm not sure but that Creggan's eyes filled with
tears. He was little more than a boy, remember.
Well, the sackful of letters was duly put in the _Rattler's_ boat
when she was hauled up, and that night everybody on board that saucy
gun-boat got good news--or bad.
Creggan had quite a bunch of letters, which he read in the gun-room,
and again by daylight next day.
That old song keeps running through my head as I write--
"Good news from home, good news for me,
Has come across the dark blue sea,
From friends that I had left in tears,
From friends I have not seen for years.
"And since we parted long ago,
My life has been a scene of woe;
But now a joyful hour has come,
For I have got good news from home."
The second line of the second verse is, however, hardly correct as
far Creggan was concerned. On the whole he had passed his time very
pleasantly indeed, with some little griefs, of course. Many a storm
had the _Rattler_ weathered, and many a strange sight had he seen.
He would be entitled to a good long spell of leave when the gun-boat
was paid off, and what tales he would have to tell the old hermit
(his Daddy) and Archie, and last, though not least, dear wee Matty!
But stay, she would be eleven years old, for Creggan was eighteen or
almost.
But here were the letters from home, one each, and long ones too,
from Daddy, Mr. M'Ian, Rory and Maggie, Nugent and Matty.
He kept the latter to the last. What a dear, innocent little epistle
it was, and though no praise could be given to the caligraphy, which
was a trifle scrawly, childish, innocent love breathed from every
line.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It was a bright and beautiful morning when the _Rattler_ weighed
anchor, left the Bight of Benin, and steered west and away, homeward
bound for Merrie England.
As the gun-boat passed the _Centiped_, which would now take her place
on this station, there was many a shout of "_bon voyage_" from the
quarter-deck; the rigging was crowded with sailors like bees on a
bush, and after three cheers were given, the little band of the
_Centiped_ struck up _Home, Sweet Home_.
The notes came quavering sweetly, sadly over the water, but soon they
died away, and in an hour's time the ship they had left behind them
could hardly be seen against the greenery of the trees that lined the
Afric foreshore.
They made a good run that day, and when, after the ward-room dinner
and gun-room supper, Grant and Creggan met upon the quarter-deck,
steam had been turned off and the fires banked, for there was just
enough wind to send the _Rattler_ on. She ran before it, for it blew
off the land, with stunsails set alow and aloft.
It was a delightful night, though not bright, but the clouds that
covered the sky were very high and gauzy. They had many a rift of
blue, however, and whenever she had a chance while the clouds went
scudding on, the moon shone down on the sea with a radiance brighter
than diamonds.
Now and then a shoal of playful dolphins would go leaping and dancing
past. It was evident that they enjoyed the beauty of the night as
well, if not better, than even Grant or Creggan could.
The _Rattler's_ record till she reached the Bay of Biscay, which she
skirted only, was really a good one for a ship of such small
horse-power. Though an iron-clad, remember, she had sails and
rigging as well as steam. But now the scene changed! The glass went
down like falling over a cliff, banks of sugarloaf clouds rose one
evening threateningly in the east, and it was evident to every
seafarer on board that it was to be a dirty night. So sails were got
in, and the ship made snug, while the engineer speedily got up steam.
Creggan was in the first mate's watch, and they had the middle watch
to keep to-night.
A man had come down below to shake his hammock and call him. That
hammock required a good deal of shaking before Creggan was thoroughly
aroused. But he turned out at once.
"Better put on your oil-skins, sir," said the seaman.
"Is it blowing, then?"
"Hark, don't you hear it roar, sir? It's blowing real big guns,
Dahlgrens and Armstrongs, all in a heap. Hurry up, sir! It's gone
eight bells minutes ago."
Creggan was not long in getting on deck. He tied the flaps of his
oil-skin over his ears and under his chin. A good thing, too, for
the wind was wild enough to have torn one's hair off. Creggan could
scarcely stand or stagger against it. Nor could the gun-boat make
much headway either. Hardly, perhaps, a knot an hour.
The lad got aft to look at the compass. Yes, her head was north and
a trifle westerly. She was boldly holding her course at all events.
It was very dark indeed, for all round the vessel the horizon was
close on board of her, and the inky clouds must have been miles deep.
The ship's masts seemed to cut through them when high on the top of a
storm-tormented wave, and when down in the deep trough between two
seas these waves thundered over the bows and came rushing aft in
white foam, a rolling cataract, which, had the ship not been battened
down, would have flooded the engine-room and probably drowned out the
fires.
Creggan was perfectly alive to the extreme danger, for if the ship
from any accident broached to, in all probability she would turn
turtle and be heard of nevermore, until the sea gave up its dead.
Yet Creggan managed to get forward a few yards to the spot where the
first lieutenant stood clinging to a stay, and they managed to carry
on a conversation for a while.
But a kind of drowsiness stole over both, and presently they became
silent.
Creggan was awakened from his lethargy by the crashing of wood
forward. A mighty wave had splintered the bulwarks, and for just
about half a minute the vessel fell off her course.
It was found necessary to put an extra hand to the wheel.
The storm was now at its worst. Ever and anon the waves, more than
houses high, made a clean breach over her, the spray dashing as high
as the fore-top, and even down the funnel.
To add to the terror, peal after peal of thunder appeared to shake
the ship to her very keel. Louder far than the roar of the savage
waves was this thunder, and the lightning lit up the slippery decks,
and showed the men crouching and shivering aft, their faces like the
faces of the dead, while over the ocean it shot and glimmered till
the sea itself looked an ocean of fire.
Indeed, indeed a dreadful night!
Neither the first lieutenant nor Creggan was sorry when they were
relieved.
The former beckoned the lad into the ward-room. Then he produced the
beef and "fixings", as he called bread, butter, and the cruets. Both
were hungry, and between them they made the joint look small.
Then Creggan went off to his hammock, commending himself as he lay
down to that God who can hold the sea in the hollow of His hand.
Four hours of sweetest dreamless slumber, and when our hero went on
deck after breakfast, though the wind had gone down and gone round,
the seas were still high and darkling blue.
But it was now a beam wind, so fires were banked, and she went
dancing on her course, as if she well knew that after all her trials
and buffetings she would soon be safe in Plymouth Sound.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The evening before the _Rattler_ sighted the chalk-cliffs of Old
England Creggan had kept the first watch, from eight to twelve,
therefore he would have what sailors call "all night in". That is,
he turned in at twelve, and did not have to leave his hammock till
about half-past seven.
On board a ship in harbour, the time youngsters turn out is five
bells. I slept in a hammock myself when I first joined, and I assure
the reader I didn't like to be called at five bells, or half-past
six; but the quartermaster was inexorable, he used to pass along the
orlop deck, where all our hammocks hung, and strike each a dig with
his thumb underneath.
"Five bells, sir, please! Five bells, sir, please!"
This resounded all along the deck, and if we had not turned out in
five minutes, then he took the number of the hammock and reported it
to the commander. The owner of that hammock was planked. That is,
he was brought on the quarter-deck and severely reprimanded.
Our sea-chests stood all round the deck, and as soon as we got up,
our servants folded the bed-clothes, lashed up the hammocks, and
trundled them away to the upper deck to be neatly stowed in the
topgallant bulwarks.
But though we got up, we didn't always, if ever, begin to dress
immediately. No, we used to mount to the top of our sea-chests, and
with our night-shirts drawn down to cover the toes, and our knees up
to our chins, squat there for perhaps a quarter of an hour, looking
for all the world like a row of fan-tail pigeons.
Then we grew lively, opened our sea-chests, which, you know, contain
a complete toilet service at the top, washed and towelled, skylarked,
stole each others socks, and pelted each other with wet sponges. I
dare say our marine servants were to be pitied in their almost
fruitless endeavours to maintain order.
Ah! those dear old days are past and gone, and they will never come
again!
* * * * * * * * * * *
However, although he had all night in, somehow it was quite an hour
before Creggan dosed off. He was reviewing in his mind the events of
the cruise, and thinking of home at the same time, anxiously too. It
must have been months and months since the last batch of letters
received were written, and some of his dear friends may have died
since then. This thought made his heart beat uneasily.
Then he remembered that he had hurried into his hammock without
saying his prayers.
But he did so now, and so felt more contented and happy.
All the scenes of the past three years then presented themselves in
single file before his mind's eye. Had he done all he could for the
service?
He really thought he had.
Poor old Daddy the hermit had given Creggan three maxims before he
left his little island home, and the lad had always borne these in
mind. They are not sentimental or namby-pamby, or I would not repeat
them. They are just good, honest rules, that would help any
sailor-boy to get his foot well on to the first rung of the ladder
that leads to fame and fortune.
"My dear sonny," said the hermit, "mind you this, and mind it all
your life:--
"First--If a thing is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well.
"Second--'Work while it is called to-day, for the night cometh when
no man can work'.
"Third--Try to see your duty and make sure of it, and when you see
it, go straight for it."
* * * * * * * * * * *
But Creggan dosed off at last, and soon slept soundly enough.
When he got into the gun-room next morning, he was saluted by his
merry messmates in the following fashion.
"Creggan Ogg, hillo!"
"Hillo--o--o, old Creggan!"
"Creggan, ain't you just too awfully glad for anything?"
Our hero looked from one to the other in a kind of puzzled way.
"Are you all mad?" he said.
"No, no, no, but we're nearly home, man alive!"
"He isn't half-alive! He isn't awake yet!"
Then it began to dawn upon Creggan.
He jumped up on the locker, and had a peep out through the tiny port,
or scuttle-hole.
Why, it was like looking through a mirror into fairyland. The
picture was very limited, it is true, but yonder, high up on a green
brae, was a long, white-washed cottage with a woman at a tub washing
clothes in front of it, and a brindled cow quietly chewing her cud
and looking on.
And this was home at last! A little picture from dear old England!
Creggan stopped longer upon the locker than there was any need for,
because the tears had sprung to his eyes, and he cared not that his
chaffing messmates should witness such weakness.
Well, soon after this they got past the breakwater and well into the
beautiful Sound.
Boats in swarms begin to surround her, but not a soul, woman or man,
can get on board till the medical officer comes and they get
pratique, a clean bill of health.
But the men are allowed to talk from the gun-ports to their friends
and relatives beneath. All are anxious all are either sad or joyful.
How the wife beams when she sees her Jack's brown face peeping
smilingly down.
But oh! the grief and sorrow of some poor women when they ask some
other sailor about their Tom or Bill.
"Where is Bill?"
"Where is my Tom?"
It is hard, hard to answer such questions, but it must be done.
"Ah, missus," says Jack at the port, "we've been a-fightin' hard wi'
bloomin' niggers, and poor Tom got scuppered!"
Some women faint. Some turn pale, dazed, and sink down stunned in
the stern-sheets.
But see, yonder comes the medical officer, and in a very short time
the ship is free.
Then up swarm friends and relations, and meetings and greetings are
very joyful indeed. There is a rattling fire of questions and
answers all over the ship, and many a jolly laugh rings shoreward
over the sea.
Creggan is on the quarter-deck. He expects no one, but suddenly he
is hailed.
"Creggan, old man! How you have grown!"
"Why, is it you, Willie Nugent? And you've grown too, a little paler
though."
"Oh, I wish I was as brown as you, Creggan, but I'm being dragged up
for a political career, you know. And I do hate it. I wish I'd been
a sailor."
"And how is your father?"
"Jolly."
"And Matty?"
"Your wee sweetheart is beautiful, and we are all well. My father
has a better and larger bungalow now in Skye, and we often go out to
see the hermit. He looks no older. Fact, I think he is getting
young again."
"Oscar?"
"Oh, he did miss you at first. But Tomnahurich has another dog now,
because he thinks on your next cruise you are bound to get Oscar with
you. So Kooran, and he is a beauty, will then be his companion."
"Well, you're making me so happy, Willie; but just one more question.
Ever see Archie?"
Willie laughed right merrily and mischievously.
"Why, he is here, Creggan; I was keeping this bit of news to astound
you."
"Archie here!"
"Yes; I'll call him up now."
Next minute, with kindly hand extended, there walked, smiling but
with eyes glistening with tears of joy, a fashionably-dressed young
gentleman with a budding moustache.
"Man, is it your very, very self?"
"It is no other, dear old friend."
"I'd hardly have known you, Creggan."
"Nor I you. But explain, my boy. Why all this extensive
rig-out--the top hat, the morning coat, the trousers instead of the
kilt? Why all this thusness? Anybody left you a fortune, Archie?"
"No, no! I've lots of money, though," laughed Archie. "I've taken a
small farm for mother and Kory, and they live in a red stone house,
and have horses, cows, and sheep."
"But--"
"I'll tell you in a minute. You'll mind our games of draughts with
the bits of carrot and parsnip for men?"
"Indeed I do."
"Well, a draught-player in Edinburgh challenged all Scotland for £20
to play with him. After you left I often played wi' Tomnahurich. He
plays well, but though I took off men of my own, I very soon whipped
off all his.
"'You'll go down to Edinburgh,' he said, 'and beat this boasting
fellow. I'll lend you the money.'
"'But,' says I, 'suppose I lose it?'
"'Never mind,' says he. 'Off you go.'
"And off I went, Creggan, just the kilted ghillie I was when you left
us. Well, there must have been a hundred great ladies and gentlemen
to watch our ten games. They gave me a little cheer, but my opponent
looked at me in proud disdain. I didn't like it, and determined to
win. You know the old Cameronian motto--_Whate'er a man dares he can
do_,--and by St. Kilda, Creggan, I soon lowered that toff's play. I
won the first four games, getting his last crowned head in a fix
every time.
"The room was stuffy and hot, and my head swam a bit, so he licked me
in the fifth. Ah! playing in a hot room isn't like playing on the
breezy cliffs, or among the wild thyme.
"Well, they opened a window, and our table was drawn near to it--and,
Creggan boy, that toff never won another game.
"What cheering! what rejoicing! Why, a duchess took me in her arms
and kissed me, and a tall swell caught me by the hand.
"'You dear little Highlander! You've got to come to my house
to-morrow. I backed you for two thou., and I'll make you share it.'
"And now, Creggan, I'm champion player of Britain; but I've been
challenged out to the States, and I hope I'll win there too."
Next day the three friends dined together at the chief hotel. Oh,
such a happy night! Then, as soon as leave was obtained--the ship
being paid off,--they all started for Glasgow by boat, and thence,
again by boat, to the beautiful Island of Wings.