Sail Ho! Part 105

"Then we won, Dale?"

"Oh yes, we've won," I cried, "and the boats are a couple of miles away."

"Let me examine your head again," said Mr Frewen.

"What, for that!" cried the naturalist. "Oh, it's nothing--makes me feel a little giddy and headachy, that's all. But I think I'll go and sit out of the sun for a bit. Why, we're sailing again."

"Yes," I cried; "there's a beautiful breeze on, and we've left the beaten enemy behind, and--"

_Flip_-_flip_-_flap_-_flap_-_flop_!

The wind had ceased as suddenly as it had come on.

"Well, sir," said Bob Hampton, a short time later, "I never 'spected to see you get to be skipper dooring this voyage."

"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Bob," I cried. "Look--they're coming on again as fast as they can row."

The old sailor shaded his eyes and looked aft at the two boats, which the men were tugging along with all their might, taking advantage of our being becalmed to try and overtake us and renew their attempt.

"Yes, there they are, bless 'em!" cried Bob. "Well, sir, as skipper o'

this here s.h.i.+p, with all the 'sponsibility depending on you, o' course you know what to do."

"No, I don't, Bob," I cried. "How can a boy like I am know how to manage a full-rigged s.h.i.+p?"

"Tchah! You've been to sea times enough, and a s.h.i.+p's on'y a yacht growed up. Besides, there's no navigating wanted now as there's no wind."

"But the boats!" I cried. "Look at the boats."

"Oh, I see 'em, my lad; well, that means fighting, and I never knowed a boy yet as didn't know how to fight."

"We must try to beat them off, Bob," I said, ignoring his remark.

"Nay, not try--do it, sir; and you, being skipper, of course 'll give 'em a startler to show 'em what's waiting for 'em, if they try to board again."

"What do you mean, Bob?" I cried.

"Well, come, I like that, sir," he said, with a laugh; "there have you got the little signal-gun loaded and primed, and the poker all red-hot and waiting, and i'stead o' having it run to the gangway, set open ready to give 'em their startler, you says you don't know what to do?"

"Would you do that, Bob?" I said anxiously.

"No; but you would, sir, being skipper, and wanting to save the s.h.i.+p, what's left o' the cargo, and all aboard."

"But it might sink them."

"And jolly well serve 'em right--a set of piratical sharks. Ahoy, Barney!--you aren't to stop at that there wheel now; the skipper wants you to lend a hand with the gun."

Barney ran up to us, and the gun was dragged to the open gangway, ready for the mutineers, as they still rowed on.

"Neb, old lad," cried Bob, "give a hye to the red-hot poker, and when I cries 'Sarvice!' out you runs with it, and hands it to me."

"Ay, ay," growled Dumlow, in his deepest ba.s.s.

"It's all right, Mr Dale, sir," whispered Bob. "You can't hit 'em with that thing if you try ever so; but it'll splash up the water, and scare the lot on 'em so that old Frenchy 'll have no end of a job to get 'em to come on."

I felt better at that, and waited for the attack. Mr Frewen was back with us, and Mr Preddle too. Mr Denning was also in his old place with his gun; and as the men, including the four who had joined us, were armed with the weapons they had brought from the boat, they made a respectable show.

"But do you think we can trust those men?" I whispered to Bob.

"Trust 'em, my lad?" he replied, with a chuckle. "You jest may. They knows it would be all over with 'em if once Frenchy got 'em under his thumb again. Don't you be scared about them; they'll fight like gamec.o.c.ks."

"If we could only get the wind again," said Mr Frewen, who looked anxious.

"Is there any chance of it, Bob?" I asked.

"Can't say, sir. Maybe we shall get a breeze; maybe we shan't. But never mind; we'll raise a storm for them in the boats, in precious few minutes too. She's charged all right, arn't she, sir?"

"Oh yes," said Mr Preddle. "I rammed the cartridge well home, and primed the touch-hole with powder."

"Then I should not wait long," said Mr Frewen, anxiously. "It will perhaps make the scoundrels keep off."

"'Zactly, sir. Mr Dale here's skipper now, and he'll give the order directly."

"No, no," I said; "Mr Frewen, you take the lead."

"I am only the doctor," he replied, with a smile, which made me feel that he was laughing at me. But the boats were coming on so fast that something had to be done, and in my excitement I cried--

"Now, Bob. Time!"

"Ay, ay, sir," he shouted, going down on one knee to point the little gun. "Sarvice!"

There was a growl from forward, and Neb Dumlow came limping from the galley, along the narrow piece of deck, by where the steam still rose, and flouris.h.i.+ng a red-hot poker, hurried to our side.

"Cap'en o' the gun says--Stand well from behind; keep alongside, 'cause she kicks. One moment. I can't get no better aim. Now, sir, ready!"

"Fire!" I cried; and I felt in agony, but had faith in Bob Hampton's words.

Down went the hot poker. There was a flash, a fizz, and a puff of smoke from the touch-hole, and that was all. No, not all, for a puff of wind followed that of smoke, and the s.h.i.+p began to glide onward again, while the men gave a cheer, and Barney ran to the wheel.

"Saved once more," cried Mr Frewen.

"Yes, sir, and them too. But beg pardon, sir," growled Bob Hampton; "I mean you, sir,--Mr Preddle, sir,--are you sure as you loaded the gun?"

"Yes, quite. With one of these cartridges,"--and he went to a box, out of which he took one with the ball fitted in its place by means of a couple of tin bands.

"That's right, sir; but did you ram it home?"

"Yes, hard."