To The West Part 37

I was as much astonished at the result as he was, and as there was a roar of laughter from all on deck, he sat there staring at me and I at him, till I could find words to say indignantly--

"Let the poor fellow be. It's a shame!"

The next minute the man sprang up, and Quong, as he called himself, cowered behind me, the other having in his astonishment loosened the poor fellow's tail and set him free.

"Why, you young c.o.c.kerel," roared the big fellow, striding up to me, and bringing his left hand down heavily upon my shoulder. "Not to cut off that yallow scoundrel's tail, arn't I?"

"No," I cried stoutly, though I felt anything but brave; "let him alone."

"Will I? Look here, I'm going to have off that tail; and just to give you a lesson, I'm going to try the edge o' my knife first on one of your ears."

I wrested myself away, but he was as quick as I was, and had me again directly, holding the knife in a threatening way as if he really intended to fulfil his threat.

"Get hold of the knife, Esau," I shouted; but it was not his hand and arm which interposed, for Gunson forced himself between us, thrusting me right away, as he said quietly--

"Let the boy alone."

"Let the boy alone!" cried the big fellow, fiercely. "No, I shan't let the boy alone. What do you mean by interfering? Who are you?"

"Like yourself, man--an Englishman."

"And a precious ugly one too. Here, I don't want to hurt you, so be off and lie down."

He strode on one side, and then made at me, driving me to bay against the bulwark.

"Now then," he cried, with an ugly laugh, which did not conceal his rage, "I've got you again, have I?"

"No," said Gunson quietly, as he took him by the collar and swung him round, so that he staggered away; but he recovered himself and made at my protector. "Keep back! the boy is a friend of mine, and I will not have him touched."

"Friend of yours, is he? Oh, then you want to fight, do you?"

"No," said Gunson, standing firmly before him, "I don't want to fight, neither do you, so go your way, and we'll go ours."

"After a bit, my lad," cried the man, fiercely. "This isn't England, but a country where a man can fight if he likes, so clear the course, some of you, and let's see who's best shot."

He thrust his hand behind him, and pulled a revolver from his hip-pocket, c.o.c.king it as he spoke.

"Now then, out with your own," he cried.

But Gunson seized the man's wrist instead, gave it a wrench round, there was a sharp report, and the pistol fell heavily on the deck, and was secured by one of the sailors.

"Give him a hug, mate," cried the man who had joined in the attack upon the Chinaman.

"That's what I'm just going to do, my lad," said the big fellow in hoa.r.s.e, angry tones. "He's got hold of the wrong pig by the ear this time;" and to my horror he drew back a little, and then suddenly darted his body forward and locked Gunson in his arms.

I had often heard tell of and read accounts about wrestling, but this was the first time I had ever witnessed an encounter in the old English sport, if sport it could be called, where two strong men, one far bigger and heavier than the other, swayed to and fro, heaving, straining, and doing all they could to throw one another.

There was a dead silence on the deck, and pa.s.sengers, skipper, and sailors all bent forward, eagerly watching the encounter, but not one with such earnestness as I, who fully expected to see Gunson flung heavily. But no: he was raised again and again from the deck, but he always recovered his feet, and twined and swayed here and there in a way that completely baffled his powerful adversary.

All this took a very short time, but as I watched I was able to see that Gunson seemed to grow cooler as the struggle went on, while his opponent became more enraged.

The excitement was now intense, and I felt my heart beat heavily as I momentarily expected to see my defender dashed down insensible, while a feeling of rage at my own helplessness made my position more painful.

For it was this: I could do nothing, and no man present made the slightest movement either to help or separate the combatants. Then, too, I felt that it was my fault for behaving as I did, yet I could hardly feel regret for my interference.

And while thoughts like these coursed rapidly through my mind, I too was watching the struggling pair, who swayed here and there, and once struck so violently against the bulwark that I gave a sudden gasp as I expected that they would both go overboard together. But no; they struggled back again to the middle of the deck, Gunson seeming quite helpless, and offering scarcely any resistance, save when his opponent lifted or tried to throw him, when he suddenly became quick as light almost in his effort to recover himself. And all the while an excited murmur went on among those crowded together to see the weaker fall. There was no doubt as to which it would be, and one of my great dreads was lest Gunson should not only be beaten but seriously hurt.

At last the struggle seemed to be coming to an end. The big fellow swung my champion round and round, and lifted him again and again, just as he seemed to please, but could never unloosen the tight grip of Gunson's hands.

"Now, Gully lad," cried the second man, "down with him."

These words seemed to act as a spur to the wrestler, and I saw his face of a deep angry red as he put all his force now into a final effort to crush the active man who clung so tenaciously to him. They had struggled now so far aft that another step would have brought them in contact with the man at the wheel; but Gunson gave himself a wrench, swung round, and as he reversed his position the big Englishman forced him a little backward, bearing right over him as it seemed to me; while the next moment, to my intense astonishment, I saw Gunson now lift the great fellow from the deck and literally throw him over his shoulder, to come down on the planks with quite a crash. There was a curious cry of astonishment from the group of spectators, in the midst of which the second man stepped to his companion's side.

"Get up, my lad," he cried. "Did he play foul?"

But there was no reply. The great fellow lay on the deck as if dead, and when his companion raised his head it went heavily down again.

"Here, I can't stand this," roared the fallen man's companion. "You played foul--you played foul;" and he rushed at Gunson and seized him, the latter only just having time to secure a good grip of the attacking party.

There was a fresh murmur of excitement, followed by a roar, as, apparently without effort, Gunson threw his new opponent upon his back.

"Was that foul?" cried Gunson, as he stood over him; but the man made no answer. He only got up slowly.

"Here, I want to help my mate," he said surlily; and there was a burst of laughter, for the first fall had taken all desire out of him to try another.

By this time the big fellow--Gully--gave signs of returning consciousness, and sat up slowly to look about him, gently stroking his head, and accepting the offer of a couple of hands as he rose to his legs, and suffered himself to be led forward, while I turned my eyes now to where Gunson was putting on his jacket.

"Are you hurt?" I said.

"No; only a bit strained, my lad. It was like wrestling with an elephant. I was obliged to let him have his own way till he grew tired, and then that old Cornish fall was too much for him."

"I'm very sorry," I said humbly. "It was all my fault."

"Yes," he said, laughing. "We ought to go different ways now. I can't spend my time and strength in fighting your battles. There, I am going to see for a bucket of water and a wash."

He went forward with one of the sailors, while as I turned, it was to see the Chinaman looking at me in a curious way. But just then Esau came between us.

"What did he say?" he whispered; "that we were going different ways now?"

"Yes," I replied; "but I don't think he meant it. I hope not. Why, Esau, what should we have done twice without him?"

"Well, he can fight and wrastle," said Esau. "It was quite wonderful to see how he upset those two. And that's what I don't like, because if he's so strong with those two big fellows, and can do just what he likes with them, what chance should we have?"

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A STRANGE HOTEL.

We landed at a rough wharf at the mouth of the wide river, where a few shanties and a plank warehouse stood just in front of a forest of pine-trees, the stumps, five or six feet high, of many that had been cut down to make room for the tiny settlement, still standing up and forming a graceful curve all round from the ground to the place where the marks of the axe still looked white and yellowish red.