Hunting the Skipper Part 87

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"I think I shall get behind you, sir," said the big sailor, with a chuckle, "so as he can take the sharp edge off his tongue on you first."

"Tom May!" whispered the mids.h.i.+pman bitterly. "How can you laugh at a time like this!"

"I dunno, sir, but I don't mean nothing disrespectful to my officer, sir. I thought a bit of a joke would cheer us up a bit. But it arn't nat'ral like, for I feel as if I could lay my cocoanut up again' a tree and howl like a sick dog as has got his fore foot under a wheel. But it is a muddle, sir, arn't it? What shall we do?"

"I can only think one thing, Tom, and it is horrible. It seems like giving up in despair."

"Never mind, sir: let's have it, for I want to be doing something."

"I can think of nothing but waiting till daylight."

"Can't you, sir? Well, I thought that, but it seemed to me too stoopid.

But I don't know as there isn't some good in it, for we might get them two to lie still and sleep, and that's about all they're fit for. It's orful dark, but that don't matter for the sick bay, and when they wake up again in the morning, perhaps they won't talk silly. You're right, sir; let's put our wounded to bed, and then divide the rest of the night into two watches. I'll take the first, and you take the second watch, which will carry us well on till daylight. What do you say to that, sir?"

"That it is the best thing to be done; only we'll watch together, Tom, and rest."

"Not you go to sleep, sir?" said Tom dubiously.

"I could not sleep, Tom. We'll talk in whispers about the blacks'

meeting and what they were planning to do."

"Very well, sir.--What say, Billy? No, no! No answering, my lad.

You'll be telling the n.i.g.g.e.rs where we are. You've got to lie down, for it arn't your watch.--That's the way.--Now, Mr Murray, sir, you let your one down easy. That's the way, sir--close up together. It'll keep 'em right, and p'raps ward off the fever. Now you and I sit down and have our palaver. I should say let's sit on 'em as soon as they're asleep, but I s'pose you wouldn't like to sit on Mr Roberts."

"Oh no, of course not," said the mids.h.i.+pman.

"All right, sir; you think it wouldn't be fair to your messmate, but it would, for it would keep him warm. But I shall do as you do, sir; or let's try t'other way."

"What other way, Tom?"

"Sit up close to one another, back to back; then I warms you and you warms me, and that keeps away the chill. You gets a bit tired after a time and feels ready to droop for'ard on to your nose, but when that comes on you can hook elbers, and that holds you upright.--Now then, sir, how's that? Right? Wait a minute; let's have a listen. Three cheers for well-boxed ears!"

The big sailor sat upright and listened intently for a few minutes, before he whispered--

"I can just hear the beetles crawling about among the dead leaves and things, sir, and seeming to talk to one another in their way, but I can't hear no n.i.g.g.e.rs coming arter us. Strange thing, arn't it, sir, that one set o' blacks should take to capturing another set o' blacks and selling 'em into slavery? Them's a savage lot as that Huggins has got together, and it strikes me as we shall find 'em reg'lar beggars to fight if it's all right as Master See-saw says about their manning his s.h.i.+ps. So far as I could make out he's got schooners manned with white ruffians as well as black blacks, and all as bad as bad can be."

"Yes, Tom," said Murray thoughtfully.

"Nice beauties," continued Tom, "and so far as I can make out, sir, there was going to be a reg'lar rising to-night, or last night. The plantation n.i.g.g.e.rs had come to the way of thinking that it was time to mutiny and kill off them as had brought 'em here, and so that there Huggins--my word, shouldn't I like to have the job of huggin' him!--got to know of it and brings his schooners' crews to show 'em they was not the sort of chaps to carry out a mutiny of that kind."

"Poor wretches, no," said Murray sadly.

"That's right, Mr Murray, sir. Poor wretches it is. You see, sir, they're a different sort o' n.i.g.g.e.r altogether. I got to know somehow from a marchant skipper as traded off the West Coast that there's two sorts o' tribes there, fighting tribes as fights by nature, and tribes as 'tisn't their nature to fight at all. Well, sir, these here first ones makes war upon them as can't fight, carries off all they can as prisoners, and sells 'em to the slave-traders. Then it comes at last to a mutiny like this here we've seen, and the poor wretches, as you calls them, is worse fighters than they was afore, and slaving skippers like Huggins collects their schooners' crews together and drives the black mutineers before 'em like a flock o' Baa, baa, black sheep, kills a lot and frightens a lot more to death, and then things goes on just the same as before.--Comfortable, sir?"

"No, Tom. Are you?"

"No, sir. But that's about how it is, arn't it?"

"Yes, I believe so, Tom."

"Then it goes on as I said till their medicine man--sort o' priest, I suppose--stirs 'em to make another try to get the upper hand. Talks a lot o' that nonsense to 'em about fetish and Obeah, as they calls it, and shows the poor benighted chaps a bit of hanky panky work with a big snake like that we saw to-night. Makes 'em think the snake's horrid poisonous, and that it can't bite him as handles it, because he's took some stuff or another. Rum game that there was with that sarpent, and-- I say, sir, don't you think we'd better get up now for a bit and just mark time? You see, we can't walk, for if we do we shall lose ourselves."

"We might take it in turns, and just keep touch of one another."

"What, sir? No, thankye. Ketch me trying that way again! We've had enough of that. Fust thing, though, let's see how our wounded's getting on."

"Yes, Tom," said Murray; and they felt for their unfortunate companions in the darkness, with the result that t.i.tely flung out one fist with the accompaniment of an angry growl, and at the first touch of Murray's fingers, Roberts uttered an angry expostulation, taking all the stiffness out of his brother middy's joints as the lad started, broke out in a violent perspiration, and caught hold of his wakeful companion, for the pair to stand listening for some sign of the enemy having heard the cry, and beginning to steal silently towards them.

"Cutla.s.ses, Tom," whispered Murray, with his lips to the big sailor's ear, and together they unsheathed their weapons and stood back to back, ready to defend themselves.

"Thrust, Tom," whispered Murray again.

"Ay, ay, sir!" And then the terrible silence of the black darkness was only broken by a faint mutter from one or other of the wounded pair, while the listeners breathed hard in agony, trying the while to suppress the going and coming of the prime necessity of life. Murray pressed the hard hilt of his cutla.s.s against his breast in the faint hope that by so doing he could deaden the heavy throbbing that sounded loudly to his ear, while if any one was approaching at all near he felt certain that he must hear the dull thumps that went on within the breast of the big sailor.

There was another dread, too, which troubled the watch-keepers: at any moment they felt certain the disturbed sleepers might begin talking aloud. But that peril they were spared.

"Don't hear anything, sir," whispered Tom, at last. "I made sure we should have brought them down upon us. I say, sir, it seems to me as Natur must have made some mistake."

"How?" asked Murray.

"Forgot to wind up the sun last night."

"What do you mean?"

"So as it should rise again."

"Nonsense!" said Murray, in a voice which sounded to be full of annoyance. "That's the morning breeze beginning to blow."

"Well, I don't care, sir," grumbled the big sailor; "it ought to have been to-morrow morning before now. Sun must be late. I never knowed such a long night before."

"It's coming, Tom, and before long. Isn't that the warm glow?"

"No," said the sailor shortly. "As you said, there's a breeze coming up from somewhere or another, and tidy strong, too."

"Yes," said Murray.

"Well, it's blowing up the embers of the fire that was burning its way through the woods."

"Think so, Tom?" said Murray, his companion's words arousing his interest.

"Yes, sir; that's it. Can't you see that it looks reddish?"

"So does the sunrise."

"Yes, sir, that's true; but all the same I'm sartain that's the fire brightening up a bit. We haven't seen no pale dawn yet."

"If it would only come, Tom!"

Hunting the Skipper Part 87

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Hunting the Skipper Part 87 summary

You're reading Hunting the Skipper Part 87. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 649 views.

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