TRINKITAT.

The _Alligator_ troopship came tearing along the Red Sea, sending the

spray flying from her bows, and churning up the historical water with

her screw, just as if it were ordinary commonplace sea-water, without

any sacred, classical, or poetical associations! The men gathered on

the forecastle and the officers on the poop were alike gazing hard at a

town of brilliant whiteness, which became more distinct every minute.

"And that is Suakim," said one of the group of officers. "It looks very

clean at a distance. What is it made of, doctor?"

Doctor MacBean was a middle-aged man who liked the society of young ones

because he had one little weakness: he was very fond of holding forth,

and young men were more inclined to listen patiently to him than older

ones. He was a naturalist, a sportsman, and had been a great traveller.

There are men who go through Greece, as they would through Surrey,

gleaning nothing; but the doctor was not one of them. If he were only a

day in a place he learned all about it, and what he learned he

remembered. So that to be in his company was to have an encyclopaedia

conveniently at hand, from which you could learn what you wanted to know

without the trouble of turning over the leaves. For the rest, such a

_boy_ past forty there never was--ready for anything for sport or fun,

even to a spice of practical joking; and with all this a grave Scottish

face which imposed upon those who had not found him out. But in matters

of information he was trustworthy, his passion for fact overcoming his

love of mystification.

"Suakim is built of madrepore," he replied to the above question; "very

curious. Houses and mosques all of the same materials as these reefs we

are now coming to."

"Madrepore--why, that is a sort of coral--isn't it?"

"Yes, it is coral."

"That's queer though. My shirt-studs are made of coral; fancy a town

built of shirt-studs!"

"Shirt-studs are quite a secondary use of the article; the principal

being to help babies cut their teeth. Have you got your coral still,

Green?"

Green was a very young subaltern, who had not been to a public school,

and was somewhat easily imposed upon.

"No," he said; "at least not here. It is somewhere at home, I believe."

"That is right; you will want it when you come to cut your wisdom teeth.

You know, I suppose, that you cannot get your company until you have

done that?"

"I knew I had to pass an examination," said Green, not convinced that

this information was quite _bona fide_.

"Of course, but this is in addition to that. When a vacancy occurs, you

send in your certificate of having passed in tactics, and then you are

ordered to go to the Veterinary College, and there they look in your

mouth."

"But I am not a _horse_!" exclaimed Green.

"No, but the rule applies to other animals," said his tormentor,

gravely.

"I know you are chaffing me," said Green, and indeed the roars of

laughter were alone sufficient to show him that.

"But all the same, it is curious that a town should be built of child's

corals."

"That is why it has been selected as a good station for infantry," said

a young fellow amidst a chorus of groans.

"I tell you what it is, Tom," said one of the captains; "I will not have

you in my company if you do that again. The man who would make a bad

pun and a hackneyed pun in such beautiful scenery as this, would--I

don't know what enormity he would _not_ commit. Come late on parade,

very likely."

"Oh, no!" said Tom Strachan, for the lieutenant was no other then our

old friend, "I hope I know better than to infringe on the privileges of

my superior officers."

A general grin showed that Strachan had scored there; for Fitzgerald,

his captain, was noted for slipping into his place just in time to avoid

reprimand, and no sooner. But he could not make any reply without

fitting the cap; so he grinned too.

"Is Suakim an island?" he asked.

"Not now," replied MacBean. "When I was last here it was, but since

that Gordon has had a causeway made to the mainland. There, you can see

it now," he added, as the vessel steamed through a gap in the outer

coral reef.

"I wonder whether these passages in the reef were made by cutting the

coral out to build the town," said another.

"No," replied the doctor. "Their origin is rather curious. Sometimes,

in the wet season, torrents rush down from the mountains to the sea, and

the fresh water kills the polypus which makes the coral, and so stops

the formation of it just there, and makes an opening. This theory is

confirmed by the fact that all such passages through the reefs are

immediately opposite valleys."

"The town looks like a large fortification; I suppose the dwelling-

houses are behind the walls."

"No, those are the houses; and what look from here like loopholes are

the windows. The place is worth looking over, though you won't have

much time for that, I expect, nor yet for boating amongst the curious

coral caves, or looking at the queer creatures which serve for fish and

haunt them, until you have chawed up the Hadendowas and got Osman Digna

in a cage."

"Not then, I hope," said one of the seniors of the group. "I hope they

will send us across to Berber, when Osman's forces are swept from the

path."

"I doubt if they will," replied the doctor, shaking his head. "It will

be frightfully hot in a couple of months."

"It is the only way to save Gordon."

"I fear you are right, but I hope not. But here is a boat coming off to

us."

It was a man-of-war's boat dashing along with the smart, lively stroke

which can never be mistaken. It was alongside presently, and almost the

moment it touched, the naval officer they had seen in the stern sheets

stood on the quarter-deck; a harlequin could not have done it more

quickly.

"It is a mistake your coming in here, sir," he said to the commanding

officer; "you are to go to Trinkitat."

So the chance of closely investigating a coral town, and seeing how

closely or otherwise it resembled a similar sort of colony in an

extravaganza, was lost for the present for the First Battalion of the

Blankshire, who growled. And yet, oh fortunate ones! If they but knew

it, they gained two more comfortable meals, and one comfortable night's

lodging, by having to go on.

For they did not anchor in Trinkitat harbour till it was too late to

land that night. The delay caused a last rise to be taken out of poor

Green, or rather a final allusion to a long-standing one. When the

battalion got its route for the Soudan, the lad was as keen to see

active service as any one of them, and it was a severe shock to him when

one of the most mischievous of his brother officers pretended to

discover that one of his legs was crooked, which would incapacitate him,

he feared, from marching across the desert.

"You would knock up in an hour's march, and have to be carried, you

know," said the tormentor; "it would never do."

"I am sure my legs seem to me all right," urged poor Green.

"Well, of course, I may be quite in error," candidly admitted the other.

"We will ask a doctor."

So Doctor MacBean was called in, and he made an examination of the

accused limb.

"Dear, dear!" he said, "however were you passed for the army? The

_scarsal bone_ of the _fons ilium_ is all out of drawing."

"But you won't tell, doctor?" pleaded poor Green; "it does not

inconvenience me in the least, I assure you."

"Not now, perhaps," said the doctor, nodding his head; "but after a long

march in sand, it might be serious. I am very sorry, but I must do my

duty."

But, being much entreated, the doctor was persuaded to try what an

invention of his own, which he spoke diffidently of, would do. So

Green's leg was done up in splints for twenty-four hours, and then

plaistered up. And after a bit the doctor saw so much improvement that

he agreed to say nothing about it, and so Green sailed with the rest.

"How is your _fons ilium_, Green?" he was asked that evening in the

saloon.

"Hush!" he whispered, anxiously; "the colonel will hear you! I am all

right. I'll walk you ten miles through the deepest sand we meet with

for a sovereign."

"Thank you; no amount of sovereigns would tempt me to accept the

responsibility of putting your scarsal bone to so severe a test. But I

am glad it is so much stronger; very glad. I would not have the

regiment miss the aid of your stalwart arm on any consideration. Never

shall I forget the way you delivered that Number 3 cut which caught

Mercer such a hot one the other day, when you were playing singlestick

on the deck. I say, by-the-by, have you had your sword sharpened?"

"Yes!" replied Green, with enthusiasm. "It has a good butcher's-knife

edge upon it; so the corporal said, who ground it for me. It is quite

as sharp as my pocket-knife."

"I am not quite so soft as they take me for," he added, confidentially,

to Strachan presently.

"Of course you are not, my dear fellow," said Tom. "I doubt if it would

be possible."

"Now that MacBean, the doctor, you know: did you hear what he said about

the fresh water coming down from the hills in the rainy season, and

making gaps in the coral because fresh water killed the insects that

make the coral?"

"Yes, I heard him," said Strachan, wondering what fault Green could find

with what seemed to him a very lucid explanation.

"As if I was going to swallow that!" said the other. "The rainy season,

indeed! Why, every one knows that rain never falls in Egypt."

"But, my dear fellow, this isn't Egypt for one thing, and it rains

sometimes everywhere, I expect," said Tom, who was somewhat tired of

imposing on the innocence of Green, who was a very willing and good-

tempered lad. "Do you know you remind me of a very old story of a

sailor-lad who returned home to his grandmother after a cruise in these

very waters. It may be familiar to you."

"I don't remember it," said Green.

"Well, it is really so apt that I will tell it."

"`What did you see that was curious, Jack?' asked the old woman. `Well,

granny, there were flying fish; they came right out of the water and

flew on the deck, and we picked them up on it.' The old woman laughed

and shook her head. `What else, Jack?' `Why, I wish you could see the

sea at night in them parts, granny; where the ship disturbs the water it

all sparkles, and you can see her track a long way, like a regular road

of fire.' `Ha, ha! Go it, Jack. What else?' Jack's budget of fact

was exhausted for the moment, so he had to take refuge in fiction.

`Well, when we were in the Red Sea, you know, we hauled up the anchor,

and we found a carriage-wheel on one of the flukes. A queer old wheel

it was. And the chaplain, he looked at it and found the maker's name,

which was that of Pharaoh's coach-builder. So he said there was no

doubt it belonged to his army, when he followed the Israelites after

they had gone out of Egypt.' `Ah, now you are telling me what is worth

listening to!' cried the old woman. `We know that Pharaoh's host was

drowned in the Red Sea, and that they had a many chariots. It is like

enough you should fish one of the wheels up. But to try to stuff your

poor old granny that fish can fly, and water take fire! For shame, you

limb!'"

Green was a bit thoughtful, and puzzled over the application of this

fable; but Strachan having to hurry off on duty, he could not question

him further.

Every one was on deck by daybreak next morning, and the bustle of the

day commenced. The _Alligator_ was rather a late arrival, and the shore

was already white with tents, large and small, circular and square, the

camp being protected by an earthwork and a trench, which came down to

the sea on each side, entirely enclosing it on that of the land, while

on the other it was protected by the harbour and its gunboats.

But there was not much time for gaping; launches and boats of various

kinds were alongside presently, and the work of disembarkation

commenced. It did not take long, for a number of little piers had been

made, rude enough, but answering their purpose, and several boats could

land their passengers at them at once. Then there was an officer ready

to show them where to get their tents, and it was not long before the

First Blankshire had added several streets to the canvas town.

They had hardly done that, however, and were still telling off men for

the various regimental duties, when they were called upon to find a

large fatigue party for the public service. And now, if any men felt

the cramping effects of life in a small compass on board ship, they had

plenty of opportunity for stretching their limbs and getting their

muscles into full play.

The sailors, for the most part, brought the cargoes ashore, and the way

they worked was marvellous. They bundled bales and boxes into the boats

as if the ship were on fire and they had only a few minutes to save them

in; they rowed them to the strand as if they were racing in a regatta,

and they got them out on the jetties before dockyard hands at home would

have quite made up their minds what bale they should begin with.

And they laughed and chaffed, and seemed to think it the best fun out.

Such energy was infectious, and "Tommy Atkins," without coat or braces,

and with his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows, tried to emulate

"Jack." Some of the goods they had to pile up on the shore; some to

carry to the commissariat stores; and some, again, to the ordnance

department. If free perspiration was the best thing for health and

vigour, they were going the right way to work to obtain those blessings.

There was a lad in Fitzgerald's company, that in which Strachan was

lieutenant, upon whom these new duties fell very hard. His name was

James Gubbins, and he enlisted because he found it hard to obtain any

other employment. And no wonder, for never was there such an awkward

mortal. He broke the hearts of corporals and sergeants, and the

officers of his company would fain have got rid of him. But he was

perfectly able-bodied, and the surgeon was bound to pass him. Neither

would the colonel help them; the man was well conducted, healthy, and

tried his best. "He would make a good soldier in time," he said.

Perhaps so, but the process was tedious. One lad, who joined as a

recruit a month after Gubbins, learned his drill, went to his duty, was

made a lance-corporal, and had the drilling of the squad in which

Gubbins was still toiling at the rudiments.

He got perfect in the manual exercise, and was dismissed from recruit

drill at last however, and even learned to shoot, after he had once

taken in the part of the back-sight of his rifle which was to be aligned

with the fore-sight, haziness about which nearly caused several bad

accidents, as his bullets went wandering dangerously near the butts to

the right and left of that where he was supposed to be firing.

By the time he passed muster he was indeed a valuable soldier, if the

value of a thing depends upon the trouble taken to manufacture it. And

now poor Gubbins had more to learn! It may seem very easy to turn a

crank, to pump, to shoulder a box, to help carry a bale, or to push at a

capstan bar, and this certainly is not skilled labour. Yet there is a

way of doing each of these things in a painful, laborious, knuckle-

cutting, shoulder-bruising, toe-smashing manner, and a comparatively

easy and comfortable one.

And James Gubbins invariably did the worst for himself possible. I do

wish that a special artist had seen him trying to help sling a mule on

one occasion, and endeavouring to take a similar animal to the place

appointed on shore for it on another. Words can do no justice to those

scenes.

Another adventure, however, I will try to describe. A naval officer

engaged in transport came up to Tom Strachan, who was in charge of half

his company on fatigue duty, and said--

"Look here, do you see that steamer with a green funnel? Well, there

are stores on board, for your regiment mostly. A whole lot of shells

have to be landed this afternoon, and all my men are at work at that. I

wish you would take that lighter, and let your fellows go off to the

steamer and unload it. We should bring you the stores, as a rule, for

you to carry up from the jetty, only we are short-handed."

"All right," said Tom.

The lighter was propelled by large oars, or sweeps, and James Gubbins

found there was yet another trial for him in this weary world--that of

endeavouring to row with one of these things. But he was so clumsy, and

impeded the others to such an extent, that they pushed him on one side

and told him to keep quiet.

When they got alongside, a rope was thrown up and caught by a sailor on

deck, and Strachan went up a rope ladder to see exactly what had to be

done. The stores were as yet in the hold, and the first job would be to

hoist them out of it; so the lighter would not be wanted alongside for

some time. The sailors let it drop astern, and then made it fast.

"Now then, men, you are wanted on deck; look alive!" cried Strachan.

The sergeant in the lighter looked puzzled how to get on board for a

moment; but seeing a grin on a sailor's face, and at the same time

observing a rope hanging from the taffrail close to him, he seized,

pulled at it, and finding it firm at the top end, swarmed up it

presently. It was not far to go, or a difficult operation, so the

others followed.

Then they manned the crane, by which a chain with a big hook to it was

lowered into the hold, as if to fish for something. And a bale having

been caught, it was wound up, slewed round, and deposited on the deck.