CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
CHING WANG AND I ESCAPE IN THE SAMPAN.
It must not be thought, though, that we were inactive all the time thepirates were coming nearer after the first warning of their unexpectedapproach.
No, on the contrary, we made every preparation, with the means at ourdisposal, to receive them with proper respect.
"Begorra, if they'd ownly tould us afore we lift the ould country we'd ahad some big guns, too," said Tim Rooney as he blazed away at a chapwith a red sash on in the prow of the proa, taking aim at him with oneof the Martini-Henry rifles that had been brought up by the captain fromhis cabin. "So, me hearties, ye'll have to take the will for the dade,an' this little lidden messenger, avic, to show as how we aren'tonmindful av ye, sure, an' that there's no ill falin' atwane us!"
Yes, we had made every preparation.
The moment Captain Gillespie was assured that the the pirates--towardswhom he had conceived a deadly hatred, although believing them lost inthe storm that had caught us--were coming again in chase of ourunfortunate ship, he woke up once more into his old animated self, hisnose twisting this way and that as he sniffed and snorted, full ofwarlike energy.
"I'll soon teach 'em a lesson," he cried cheerily to Mr Mackay. "Whenthey tackle Jock Gillespie, they'll find their match; and, ye know, whenI say a thing I mean a thing!"
Thereupon he bounced down the companion, telling Jerrold and me tofollow him; which, as may be supposed, we did with the greatestalacrity, "Old Jock" not often inviting us to his sanctum.
"Here, lads," he said, emptying out an old arm-chest which was stowedunder his bunk on to the floor, "lend a hand, will ye?"
Of course we did "lend the hand" he requested thus politely in a tone ofcommand, only too glad to overhaul the stock of weapons tumbled out alltogether from the chest.
There were a couple of Martini-Henry rifles, sighted for long ranges;three old Enfields of the pattern the volunteers used to be suppliedwith some years ago; a large bore shot-gun; and a few revolvers ofvarious sorts--one of the latter making my eyes glisten at the sight ofit, for it was just suited to me, I thought.
The captain seemed to anticipate my wish, even before I could give itutterance.
"Do ye know how to fire a pistol?" he asked Jerrold and me, looking fromone to the other of us, with a profound sniff of interrogation. "Haveeither of ye handled ere a one before?"
"Oh, yes, sir," said I; while Tom Jerrold laughed.
"Don't you remember, cap'en," he cried, "giving me that fat one there,the Colt revolver, last voyage when you thought there was going to be amutiny; and how you instructed me how to use it?"
"Oh, aye, I remember. I clean forgot, lad; this bother about the shiphas turned my head, I think," snorted he, not a bit angrily though."Well, take the same weapon again now, lad, as you're familiar with it;and you, youngster, have you got any choice?"
"I'd like this one, sir," I replied, fixing on my original selection, ashe turned to me and asked this question, "if you'll let me have it. Iwon't hurt it."
"No, I don't fancy ye will," he said, sniffing and chuckling andtwitching his nose. "I hope ye'll hurt some of those rascally pirateswith it, though."
The captain then opened another chest, a smaller iron one, which he alsodragged out from under his bunk, unlocking it with a heavy key he tookoff a bunch which was hanging up on a nail over his writing-desk andthrowing back the lid.
This second receptacle, we soon discovered, contained a lot ofcartridges for the rifles, there being a hundred or more of varioussorts, some for the breech-loaders and some for the Enfields of the old-fashioned regulation size. There were also a variety of smallercartridges for the revolvers, and "Old Jock" gave Tom and I each apackage of these latter for our weapons.
In the chest, likewise, were two or three large flasks of powder and alot of bullets loose, which the captain crammed into a leathern bag andtold us to take on the poop with the rifles, Tom and I carrying up acouple each with the bag of bullets and powder-flasks and then returningfor the rest.
In our absence "Old Jock" had ferreted out from some other hiding-placeof his a couple of swords and a number of cutlasses, which he likewisedirected us to take up the companion, he assisting us; until, presently,we had the whole armoury arranged on the top of the cabin skylight.
"Now, Mackay," said Captain Gillespie, blowing like a grampus after hisexertions, "take y'r choice, but I think that the two best shots in theship ought to have the Martini rifles; and if I were picking out thepicked marksmen--he! he! that's a joke, `picking' and `picked,' didn'tintend it though--I'd have chosen y'rself and the bosun!"
Of course we all laughed at his joke, as he had taken such pains topoint it out; and he was so pleased with it himself that it was sometime before he could speak again, he sniffed and snorted so much.
"Not bad that, Mackay," he said; "not bad--eh? But which of thesethings would ye like best--eh?"
"I think I'll take the breech-loader, sir," replied the other, suitingthe action to the word and proceeding to examine the lock of one of theMartini-Henrys, which seemed to be an old acquaintance of his, for heloaded the chamber much quicker than I could manage my new acquisition;"and I don't believe you could do better than hand the other to Rooney,as you suggested. He's the best shot in the ship, I'm certain."
"Y'rself excepted," interposed the captain wonderfully politely for him;singing out loudly at the same time, "Bosun!"
"Here, sorr," cried Tim, who had been waiting below close to the poopladder, expecting the summons, and who was all agog at the prospect of afight. "Here I am, sorr."
"Well, bosun," said Captain Gillespie, "it looks as if we'll have tofight those rascals coming up astern and making for us. The cowards!They didn't dare attack the old barquey when she was all ataunto in theopen sea; and only now rely on their numbers and the fact of our beingin limbo here. However, if they do attack us, we shall have a fight forit."
"Bully for ye, sorr!" cried Tim enraptured. "It's mesilf as loikes afight, sure. I'm niver at pace barrin' whin I'm in a row, sure, sorr!"
"Then you'll be soon in your element," retorted Jock grimly. "Call thehands aft."
"Aye, aye, sorr," answered Tim; and going up to the rail he shouted outin his ringing voice, "All ha-a-nds aft!"
"Now, my men," said "Old Jock," leaning over the poop and addressingthem as they stood below on the main-deck--"we've got a batch ofrascally pirates coming up after us astern; and, as you know, we can'trun away from 'em. What will ye do--cave in to 'em or fight 'em?"
The crew broke into a rousing cheer.
"Ye'll fight 'em, then?"
"Aye, aye, fight 'em till we make 'em sick!" shouted one of the handsspeaking for the rest, who endorsed his answer on their behalf with a"Hip, hip, hooray!"
"And one for the skipper," shouted Joe Fergusson, who was a sailor ofsailors by this time and had learnt all their ways and talk, droppingout of his old provincialisms. "Hip, hip, hooray!"
"And another for Mr Mackay," cried a voice that sounded like that ofAdams, causing the hooraying to start again with fresh force, this cheerbeing much heartier than the first.
"Now, men," said Captain Gillespie, "as ye've let off all your gas, letme see what ye can do in action. Bosun, serve out the cutlasses anddistribute the rest of the guns."
This being done and all of the men armed in one way or another, thedeficiencies of the captain's armoury being made good by the aid ofhandspikes which Mr Mackay had thoughtfully ordered to be brought aftwhile we were taking up the rifles and other things from the cabin.Even Billy, the ship's boy, got hold of an old bayonet, which hebrandished about near Pedro Carvalho the steward, who had come out ofhis pantry to see what all the noise was about, which gesture on hispart almost frightening the Portuguese, who, as I've related before, wasan innate coward, into a fit. At all events, it made him turn of ayellowish pallor that did not improve his complexion.
"Carramba!" he exclaimed, as he retreated back within his p
antry."Fora, maldito!"
When offered a weapon, Ching Wang only smiled that innocent bland smileof his, producing his own long knife, that had a blade like an Americanbowie, being over a foot long and with a double edge.
"Me one piecee in tyfong tummee tummee, chop chop, pijjin!" he said,brandishing the awful blade in a way that I'm sure the "kyfongs," theChinese term for pirates, would not relish, especially in such friendlyrelation with their "tummee tummees."
All the crew being now armed, the captain and Mr Mackay disposed themin parties about the deck and forecastle to windward, so as best tooppose the pirates' attack; while the men provided with the Enfieldrifles were placed in the tops, with the bullets and powder forammunition when their cartridges ran short. Tim Rooney took his stationwith Mr Mackay on the poop, from which the advancing pirates could bestbe picked off, and where also were gathered the captain, as a matter ofcourse; Mr Saunders, who carried an old single-barrel pistol with aheavy lock, which the second mate intended to make more use of as a clubthan to shoot with; and Tom Jerrold and Sam Weeks, as well as myself--Sam being sadly jealous of Tom and I from the fact of our havingrevolvers, while he, coming too late after they'd all been distributed,had to be contented with a marlin-spike--poor Sammy!
It was thus that we all awaited the attack, every man Jack of us beingat his specially appointed post and on the alert; when the pirates--after pounding away at us a long time at a distance, with the result ofneither wounding a soul on board nor damaging the ship very materially,none of the shot penetrating her hull between wind and water, the onlything we had to fear--at length mustered up courage enough to give uptheir rather unremunerative game of "long bowls" and come to closequarters.
I had got quite accustomed now to the rushing sound of round shot in theair and the waspish phit phitting of rifle bullets past my head; and Iwas filled with a wild excitement that made my heart pant, as I stood onthe poop between Mr Mackay and Tim Rooney.
These two were peppering away at the leading proa and the junks, as theypaddled in hastily towards the ship with their long double-bankedsweeps, anxious to get in close alongside and so to be sheltered by ourhull from the murderous and rapid fire which the wielders of theMartini-Henrys rained on them.
But every bullet found a billet in some pirate breast sooner or later,one of the villainous desperadoes falling over his oar here and anotherdropping down on the bamboo deck of a junk there; while, occasionally,some wretch would tumble overboard with a wild yell, in answer to theping of the rifle, shot through the heart as dead as a herring, andgoing down to his grave amongst the fishes in Neptune's coral cavernsbelow!
"There's that scoundrel of a fellow in the red sash again," cried MrMackay, when the Malay proa, which still led the van, was only abouthalf a cable's length off. "There he is, Rooney,--do you see him?"
"Aye, bad cess to the black divil, I say him well enough, sorr,"returned Tim, carefully putting a fresh cartridge into the chamber ofhis weapon. "Begorra, I thought I'd kilt the beggar a dozen toimesalriddy; but he's got the luck of ould Nick, an' sames to save his skinsomehow or ither. Here goes for him ag'in--take that now, ye ouldthaife!"
"Ping!"
But the pirate captain, as the tall dark man in the stern of the proaseemed to be, only let fall the long crease which he had held in hisright hand brandishing at us, the bullet from Tim's rifle having brokenhis arm, that also dropped powerless by his side.
"You nearly had him there," cried Mr Mackay, now taking a shot. "Ihope I'll have better luck though."
"I hope ye will, sorr," heartily echoed Tim. "I mint to riddle hiscarkiss an ownly winged him. The ugly black divil sames to kape acharmed loife, an' I dare say his ould frind below helps him, thenayghur!"
Mr Mackay, however, was equally unsuccessful; for, as luck would haveit, another of the pirates jumping up in front of the chief received thebullet intended for him.
The scoundrel who got killed was, certainly, one off the list; still,the small fry did not count like their leader, the loss of whom all ofus thought might have paralysed the enemy's advance.
It really seemed, however, as if the gigantic villain, who towered overhis men, bore a charmed life; for, although our fellows in the tops withthe Ennelds, as well the first mate and boatswain, aimed at him, while,now that the proa was within revolver range, the captain and TomJerrold, and even I, with my little weapon, pelted bullet after bulletin his direction, all of us missed hitting the swarthy scoundrel. Wenoticed, too, on seeing him closer, that he appeared to be more of PedroCarvalho's nationality than belonging to the Malay race, his featuresand shape of head being altogether different; albeit, he was fully asugly as his rascally comrades in the proa and following junks--a hybridlot of Javanese and Chinese and all the vile scourings of the StraitsSettlements; long-haired heavy-eyed and sullen-looking most of them,with narrow retreating foreheads, and evidently of the lowest type ofhumanity.
As they got closer and closer to the ship, too, we noticed that severalhad red sashes round their blue frocks, into which were stuck fearfulcurved knives and the butt-ends of pistols; and so, with "so manyRichmonds in the field," it was not to be wondered that Tim Rooney andMr Mackay had previously missed their mark--albeit now that the proawas near, it was strange that they could not pick off the pirate leader,who, as the proa sheered up alongside the Silver Queen, looked up at usastern and grinned a horrible sardonic grin, drawing the while hissolitary left hand across his bare tawny throat with a most unmistakablegesture.
"Ping!--ping!" came from Mr Mackay's and the boatswain's rifles againin quick succession.
And yet again, marvellous as it may seem, they both missed. There wasno longer time, though, for any more pot shots; for, with a wild savagehowl and the beating of drums and gongs again, mingled with a shower ofjingal balls over the ship, the proa struck against the fore-chains onour starboard bow, one of the junks steering to our port side at thesame time, while another remained across our stern and raked us fore andaft with round shot, there being a couple of hundred at least of thebloodthirsty demons in the three craft assailing us. There wereprobably as many more, too, in the junks astern, which were coming upmore leisurely, leaving their comrades in the van to bear the brunt ofthe fray.
"Now, men!" shouted "Old Jock," who I must say came out like a brave manand a hero on the occasion, losing all his peculiarities andlittlenesses of manner and behaviour--at least we did not notice them."Now, men, we've got to fight for our lives! We must first try andprevent the pirates getting aboard; and, when we can't do that anylonger and they gain the decks, we'll retreat into the cabin andbarricade ourselves, and fight 'em again there."
"Hooray!" cried the men. "Hooray!"
"And when we can't hold the cabin any longer," continued Old Jock, whoseemed to be in a punning vein this afternoon, "we'll go below to thehold, and hold that as long as we can!"
"Hooray!" shouted the hands again, full of the fire of battle now andspurred on by his words. "We'll fight, old man, never fear!"
"And when we can't fight 'em any longer, my lads," cried CaptainGillespie, looking round at us all with an expression of determinationthat I had never seen in his face before, "we'll blow up the ship soonerthan surrender to this villainous gang!"
The cheer that followed this ending of his speech was so loud andgenuine, so full of British pluck, so hearty, that the piratesabsolutely quailed at the sound of it, holding back a second or twobefore they sheered up alongside with the intention of boarding us.
They only made a short delay, though, during which we were not idle withour guns and revolvers; for, the next moment, with another yell ofdefiance, the pirate craft flung their grapnels in our rigging andclimbed up on both sides of the ship simultaneously.
"Come down out of the tops!" shouted Mr Mackay to the hands aloft."Come down at once, we want all of your aid with cold steel now!"
These soon joined us, and then followed a series of shouts and cries andshots and groans which it makes me dizzy even now to think
of; until,after losing three of our number, amongst them being poor Mr Saunders,whom we dragged in mortally wounded with us, we all retreated to thecabin, barricading ourselves there with all sorts of bales and boxes,and bracing up the saloon table, which we had previously unloosed fromits lashings, to act as a shield under the skylight.
The pirates made a rush after us, but we were too quick for them; sothen, leaving us alone for awhile, they proceeded to rummage the shipforward, where, from the noise they made hacking and hewing at the deck,they were evidently trying to break open the hold so as to get at thecargo. But the hatchways being constructed of iron beneath the woodtheir battering away at them did not bother us much for the moment, aswe knew they would find their work cut out for them and the job a longone.
Meanwhile, poor Mr Saunders lay dying on the cabin floor, bleeding froma wound in his breast. The captain said there was no hope for him, forhe had been shot through the lungs; and as I bent over him with a glassof water I had got from the pantry, he murmured something that soundedlike Ching Wang.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Mr Mackay. "Where is the Chinaman?"
Nobody knew; and although Mr Saunders had been the first to miss him,he could not say anything else about him, or tell us what had become ofthe poor fellow. We were all, therefore, giving him up for lost, when,suddenly Pedro Carvalho, who, it may be remembered, bore no friendlyfeeling towards the cook, called out from the pantry window whence,through the jalousies, or open shutters, he could survey a portion ofthe main-deck.
"Diante de Deos!" he exclaimed, "dere is dat raskil Ching Wang yondare,chummy chumming and chin chinning does peerats. Yase, yase, dere he is!I see him! I see him! Carajo! Cozenheiro maldito!"
This news came upon us like a thunderbolt, but none of us would believeit until we had been absolutely convinced of the truth of what thesteward had stated by seeing for ourselves. Yet, there was no mistake;for sure enough we could presently see with our own eyes, Ching Wang onthe friendliest terms, apparently, with a lot of the yellow piraterascals, who were of his own celestial nationality, away forward, thecook showing them all that was to be seen and grinning and gesticulatingaway finely!
Still, even then we could hardly believe in his treachery.
Somehow or other, too, whether through Ching Wang's offices or not, ofcourse, we could not say, the pirates did not bother us much during theday, only coming up to the skylight occasionally and firing down on usas well as they could with their clumsy muskets and pistols--a firewhich we just as promptly returned, aiming wherever we saw a flash.They once pitched in one of their terrible fire balls or "stink-pots" offulminating stuff to asphyxiate us with its beastly smell; but TimRooney, taking hold of it and plunging the obnoxious thing in a bucketof water, rid us at once of the poisonous fumes.
In the evening, when it was growing dark, a tapping was heard at one ofthe ports in the captain's cabin; and both Tim and I were just on thepoint of firing, when, to our great surprise Ching Wang's well-knownvoice was heard.
"Chin, chin lilly pijjin! Comee one chop quick, me wantee talkeetalkee. Lis'en me, an' you lickee kyfong number one go!"
"I thought he'd never turn traitor," cried Captain Gillespieemphatically; Tim Rooney adding with equal warmth, "Nor I, sorr. I'veallers found the Chinee chap a good Oirishman ivery day he's bin'aboord!"
The upshot of Ching Wang's communication was, that the pirates wereanxious to get all they could out of the ship and clear off; and,believing that he had joined them, they had sent him to negotiate termswith the captain, the pirate chief saying that he would spare all ourlives if we would let him have what dollars there was on board and aransom for the ship, on account, of course, of their not being able toget at the cargo.
Before Captain Gillespie could indignantly refuse making any terms withthe rascals, Ching Wang proceeded to say that he had overheard thepirates saying that the reason for their violent hurry was that anEnglish gunboat had been seen in the distance cruising off the mouth ofthe Canton river.
"Me gottee sampan," continued Ching Wang, declaring now his real motive."Lilly pijjin squeezee one port, me go along findee gunboat an' catcheekyfong chop chop!"
"First rate," cried Mr Mackay, who acted as general interpreter,knowing the Chinaman's lingo well, explaining that the reason why ChingWang had not gone off by himself in the sampan was that he did not knowthe right course to steer for the Canton river in the first place; and,secondly, he was afraid that the officers of the gunboat might notbelieve his story about the Silver Queen being assailed by piratesunless some European belonging to her accompanied him. "Nothing couldhave been more sensible, you see, cap'en; and Ching Wang's got his headscrewed on straight."
"And where is this boat ye're going in?"
"Sampan, go long now," returned Ching Wang, motioning with his hand tothe water below the stern. "Go long chop chop, soon lilly pijjin comedown topside."
His selection of me, though apparently a very flattering one, was due tothe fact of my being the only one capable of squeezing through the port,Weeks, who had grown awfully fat on the voyage, being incapable ofaccomplishing the feat, while all the rest of us were far too big.
"How will ye be able to steer for Canton?" asked Captain Gillespiesniffing--"even if ye know all about managing the boat?"
"Oh, sir," cried I, quite joyous at the idea of starting off on such anexpedition and coming with a British gunboat to take the pirates bysurprise and give them a licking, "Ching Wang'll see to the sampan, ashe calls it, and I will steer, sir, if you give me the course, sir.I've got a little compass here on my watch chain."
"Humph!" he ejaculated; "I think ye'll do, boy. Ye're smart enough atany rate for the job; and, besides, there's no one else that can getthrough the port. Ye can go!"
"Thank you, sir," said I, grateful for even this semi-reluctantconcession, being afraid he might refuse; and then, squeezing gingerlythrough the port and carefully lowering myself down by a rope which TimRooney hitched round the captain's bunk, I landed on the bottom boardsof the boat that old Ching Wang had ready below.
I recollect well Tim's whispering softly as I let go my hold of the portsill, "Sure, now, take care av y'rsilf, Misther Gray-ham, sorr, an'don't forgit what the skipper's tould you about your coorse whin ye gitsoutsoide the rafe; ye're to steer nor'-nor'-west, wid a little more westin it, an' kape a good look-out for the blissid gunboat--an'--an' Godbliss ye me bhoy, an' that's Tim Rooney's dyin' wish if ye niver say himag'in!"