LIFTS THE CURTAIN SLIGHTLY AS TO PIRATICAL DOINGS IN THE NINETEENTH
CENTURY.
Silently they glided on, until the shades of evening fell, and the
brilliant stars came out. Silently, for the gun-boat went at
half-speed; silently, for her engines were good and new, and worked
softly without the jarring of age or mal-construction; silently, because
those on board were in a tranquil mood, and did not raise their voices
above a low murmur.
"How romantic," said Aileen, in a low tone, as she sat by the stern-rail
and watched the gleaming track left by the screw; "how enjoyable, if we
could only forget what has just passed, and the object we have in view.
The world is a mystery!"
"Is this the first time you have thought so?" asked Edgar, who leaned on
the rail near her.
"Well, I think it is," she replied, with a sad smile; "at least it is
the first time I have been deeply impressed with the thought."
"It is a very old thought," returned the youth, musingly. "Philosophers
from the earliest times have recorded it. Thoughtful men and women of
all ages have expressed it. Young people of all generations fancy they
have discovered it. The Bible is a key which opens up much of it, and
makes it plain; but much still remains in mystery, and I suppose will
continue so to remain, till Time merges in Eternity."
"Do you think such mystery undesirable?" asked Aileen.
"No. It is desirable, else God would not have left it there. `Shall
not the Judge of all the earth do right?' There is a need be, I doubt
not, for mystery, and there is no need for our being distressed by it,
for what we know not now we shall know hereafter. But there is much
cause for anxiety lest we, either through wilful ignorance, or
carelessness, or stupidity, should allow that to remain involved in
mystery which is made plain by revelation. The way of salvation was an
insurmountable mystery to me once, but since you gave me that poor man's
Testament, Aileen, it has become very plain and very dear to me, through
Jesus Christ."
Aileen thanked God in her heart, and a thrill of gladness filled her,
but before she could utter a word in reply, the captain came forward and
said in a low tone:--
"Stop the engine, Mr Berrington. We'll lie by in this creek till
day-break."
Edgar went below. The vibrating of the boat ceased, and an awful
stillness seemed to sink down upon her as she glided into a little creek
or bay, which was deeply shaded by mangrove trees.
But the silence did not last long. It was still three hours from
daylight, and the captain employed the time in preparations for the
action which he anticipated on the following day. The yards were sent
down; the decks were cleared of all useless incumbrances; the guns were
got ready; and an attempt was made, to some extent, to disguise the
vessel, so that, in the event of the pirates being found, the gun-boat
might get as near as possible without her true character being
discovered. The men, meanwhile, who were not engaged in such work,
busied themselves in sharpening cutlasses and cleaning small arms, while
they conversed in an undertone. All was activity and order, without
fuss or needless noise--the result of a man of the right stamp being in
command.
"It's a brush we'll be havin' soon," said Rooney Machowl, with a flash
of the eye which told that he inherited a little of his nation's love of
fighting.
"Looks like it," replied Maxwell, who sat beside his friend in the midst
of a group of the Malay crew, rubbing up his cutlass with much interest.
"Does anybody know how many of a crew we have altogether?" asked Rooney.
"I heard the captain say to Mr Berrington," answered Joe Baldwin, who
was busy cleaning a rifle, "that we've got ninety men all told, which is
quite enough for a 180-ton vessel. With these and seven guns we should
be more than a match for all the pirates of the eastern seas."
"Ho!" exclaimed Ram-stam, looking up from the weapon he was engaged on
with an amused expression, "you know noting of pirits of dem seas. Hi!
Hi! Wait."
Ram-stam said this with the air of one who held the decided opinion that
when he _had_ waited Joe would have his views enlarged.
"What, are they such bold fellows?"
"Ho yis, vely muchee bold. Ca'es for noting. 'Flaid of noting. Doos
a'most anyting--'cept what's good."
"Swate cratures," murmured Rooney; "I hope we'll be introdooced to aich
other soon."
As it is desirable that the reader should have a little more extended
knowledge of the miscreants referred to, we will retrace our steps in
time a little, and change the scene.
On one of those sweltering mornings in which the eastern seas appear to
have a tendency to boil under the influence of the sun, three piratical
junks might have been seen approaching a small island which lay on the
sea as if on a mirror. They were propelled by oars. The largest of
these junks was under command of our red-jacketed acquaintance,
Pungarin. It was what is termed double-banked, and the oars were pulled
by "slaves," that is to say, the crews of trading vessels recently
captured.
Pungarin had more slaves than he knew what to do with on that occasion.
He had been unusually successful in his captures. All the white men
taken had at once been slaughtered, also all who attempted to give the
pirates trouble in any way, including those who chanced to be too weak,
ill, or old to work. In regard to the rest, each man was secured to his
place at the oar by means of a strip of cane, called rattan, fastened
round his neck, and a man was appointed to lash them when they showed
symptoms of flagging. This the unhappy wretches frequently did, for, as
on a former occasion to which we have referred, they were made to pull
continuously without food or water, and occasionally, after dropping
their oars through exhaustion, it took severe application of the lash,
and the discovery of some unusually sensitive spot of the body, to rouse
some of them again to the point of labour.
The junks were strange, uncouth vessels, of considerable size, capable,
each, of containing a very large crew. They might almost have been
styled "life-boats," as they had hollow bamboos wrought into their
structure in a manner which gave them great buoyancy, besides projecting
beyond the hulls and forming a sort of outside platform. On these
platforms the slaves who rowed were fastened. In each vessel there were
at least forty or fifty rowers.
Pungarin walked up and down his poop-deck as if in meditation, paying no
regard to what was going on around him until a feeble cry was heard from
one of the rowers,--a middle-aged and sickly man. The pirate captain
looked carelessly on, while the overseer flogged this man; but the lash
failed to arouse him, and the captain ordered the man to desist--but not
in mercy.
"Over with him," he said, curtly, and then resumed his walk.
The slave-driver drew his knife, and cut the rattan that bound the man,
who turned his dying eyes on him with an imploring look.
At that moment one of the pirates, who from his dress and bearing seemed
to occupy a position of authority, stepped upon the platform and looked
at him. He gave a brief order to one of his comrades, who brought a
large piece of cork and fastened it to the slave's neck. He also
brought a short spear, with a little flag at its handle. This he thrust
a few inches into the fleshy part of his shoulder, and then pushed him
off the platform into the sea. Thus the wretched creature was made to
float, and, as he went astern, some of the pirates amused themselves by
shooting at him with their muskets.
Now, _gentle_ reader, don't shut your eyes and exclaim, "Oh! Too
horrible." It is _very much_ because of that expression of yours, and
the shutting of your "gentle," (we would rather say selfish) eyes that
these accursed facts exist! Yes, we charge it home on you so-called
"soft ones" of the earth, that your action,--namely, shutting your
eyes,--does probably as much, if not more, to perpetuate horrible evil
as does the action of open godlessness,--that condition which is most
aptly expressed by the world's maxim, "every man for himself and the
devil for us all."
Do not imagine that we presume to invent such things or to exaggerate
for the sake of "sensation." We relate well-authenticated facts. We
entertain strong doubts as to whether devils are, in any degree, worse
than some among the unsaved human race. There is great occasion for
you, reader, whoever you are, to know and ponder such facts as we now
relate. We are too apt to regard as being applicable only to the past
these words, "the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations
of cruelty." If we were to fill our book with horrors from beginning to
end, we should only have scratched the surface of the great and terrible
truth. Assuredly now, not less than in days of old, there is urgent
need of red-hot philanthropy.
But we gladly pass from the cruel to the cunning phase of piratical
life. These villains had at that time been about six months on their
cruise. They had made the entire circuit of Borneo, murdering, and
plundering, and striking terror and desolation wherever they went. The
scenes enacted by Norse pirates in the tenth century were repeated in
the middle of the nineteenth by a people who, _unlike_ the Norsemen, had
no regard whatever for law; and now they were returning home laden with
booty.
The pirate-chiefs usual mode of procedure on such occasions was to go to
an unfrequented island in the neighbourhood of Singapore, land all his
warlike stores and prisoners, and, leaving them under a strong guard,
proceed with two of his prows loaded to the gunwale with merchandise, to
the port. The merchant-boats which he had previously sunk, and whose
crews he had murdered, provided him with "port-clearances," which
enabled him to personate the trader and regularly enter and clear the
customs at Singapore, so as to cause no suspicion; then, returning to
his place of rendezvous with a fresh supply of guns, ammunition,
etcetera, he divided his ill-gotten gains and recommenced his piratical
expeditions.
On the present occasion, however, Pungarin had received intelligence
which induced him to modify his plans. Hearing that a gun-boat was in
pursuit of him, he determined to change his rendezvous for the time.
The weary slaves were therefore again set to work at the oars; but "kind
Nature" took pity on them. A breeze sprang up and increased into a
gale, under the influence of which the prows sped out to sea and soon
left the islands far behind them.
It was while thus attempting to evade their enemy that the pirates had
the misfortune to run at last into the very jaws of the lion.