Blue Jackets: The Log of the Teaser

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

  TRICKED.

  They were singularly quiet, these people on board the junks, I supposefrom old experience teaching them that noise made might mean at one timediscovery and death, at another the alarming of some valuable intendedprize.

  This quietness was remarkable, for as we listened there was the creakingand straining of the rough capstan used, but no shouted orders, nosinging in chorus by the men tugging at the bars; all was grim silenceand darkness, while we lay-to there, waiting and listening to thevarious faint sounds, till we heard the rattling of the reed-sails asthey were hauled up. Then we knew that the junks were off, for therecame to us that peculiar flapping, rattling sound made by the wavesagainst a vessel's planks, and this was particularly loud in the case ofa roughly-built Chinese junk.

  "Are you going to follow them at once?" I said in a whisper.

  "Yes, till within an hour of daylight," was the reply. "Now, besilent."

  I knew why Mr Brooke required all his attention to be directed to thetask he had on hand--very little reflection was necessary. For it was adifficult task in that black darkness to follow the course of those twojunks by sound, and keep doggedly at their heels, so as to make surethey did not escape. And then once more the slow, careful steering waskept up, Mr Brooke's hand guiding mine from time to time, while now forthe most part we steered to follow the distant whishing sound made bythe wind in the junk's great matting-sails.

  All at once, when a strange, drowsy feeling was creeping over me, I wasstartled back into wakefulness by Mr Brooke, who said in an angrywhisper--

  "Who's that?"

  I knew why he spoke, for, though half-asleep the moment before, I wasconscious of a low, guttural snore.

  "Can't see, sir," came from one of the men. "Think it's Mr Ching."

  "No; Ching never makee nose talk when he s'eep," said the Chinaman, andas he spoke the sound rose once more.

  "Here, hi, messmate, rouse up!" said the man who had before spoken.

  "Eh? tumble-up? our watch?" growled Tom Jecks. "How many bells is--"

  "Sit up, Jecks," whispered Mr Brooke angrily. "Next man take thesheet."

  There was the rustling sound of men changing their places, and I heardthe coxswain whispering to the others forward.

  "No talking," said Mr Brooke; and we glided on again in silence, butnot many yards before a light gleamed out in front.

  "Quick, down at the bottom, all of you! Ching, take the tiller!"

  We all crouched down; Ching sat up, holding the tiller, and the lightahead gleamed out brightly, showing the sails and hulls of the two greatjunks only fifty yards away, and each towing a big heavy boat. Therewere the black silhouettes, too, of figures leaning over the stern, anda voice hailed us in Chinese, uttering hoarse, strange sounds, to whichChing replied in his high squeak.

  Then the man gave some gruff order, and Ching replied again. The lightdied out, and there was silence once more.

  "What did he say?" whispered Mr Brooke.

  "Say what fo' sail about all in dark?"

  "Yes, and you?"

  "Tell him hollid big gleat lie! Say, go catchee fish when it glowlight."

  "Yes."

  "And pilate say be off, or he come in boat and cuttee off my head."

  Mr Brooke hesitated for a few moments, and then reached up, took thetiller, and we lay-to again for quite an hour.

  "Only make them suspicious if we are seen following, Herrick. Let themget well away; I daresay we can pick them up again at daybreak."

  But all the same he manipulated the boat so as not to be too far away,and arranged matters so well that when at last the dawn began to show inthe east, there lay the two junks about six miles away, and nothing butthe heavy sails visible from where we stood.

  We all had an anxious look round for the _Teaser_, but there were notell-tale wreaths of smoke showing that our vessel was on her way back,and there seemed to be nothing for us to do but slowly follow on alongshore, at such a distance from the junks as would not draw attention tothe fact of their being followed, till we could catch sight of our ownship and warn our people of the vessels; or, failing that, lie in on theway to warn the junk which Ching believed would sail from the riverbefore long.

  Mr Brooke reckoned upon our being provisioned for two days, and as soonas it was light he divided the little crew into two watches, one ofwhich, self included, was ordered to lie down at once and have a longsleep.

  I did not want to lie down then, for the drowsy sensations had allpassed away; but of course I obeyed, and, to my surprise, I seemed tofind that after closing my eyes for two minutes it was evening; and,upon looking round, there lay the land upon our right, while the twojunks were about five miles away, and the boat turned from them.

  "Have you given up the chase, Mr Brooke?" I said.

  "Yes, for the present; look yonder."

  He pointed towards the north-west, and there, some three miles distant,and sailing towards us, was another junk coming down with the wind.

  "Another pirate?" I cried.

  "No, my lad; evidently the junk of which Ching told us."

  "And you are going to warn her of the danger, sir?"

  "Exactly; we can't attack, so we must scheme another way of saving thesheep from the wolves."

  As we sailed on we could see that the fresh junk was a fine-lookingvessel, apparently heavily laden; and, after partaking of my share ofthe provisions, which Ching eagerly brought for me out of the littlecabin, I sat watching her coming along, with the ruddy orange rays ofthe setting sun lighting up her sides and rigging, and brightening theshowy paint and gilding with which she was decorated, so that they hadquite a metallic sheen.

  "Take a look back now," said Mr Brooke. "What do you make of thepirate junks?"

  "They seem to be lying-to, sir," I said.

  "Then they have seen their plunder, and the sooner we give warning thebetter. She must turn and run back at once, or they will be after andcapture her before she can reach port again."

  Just then I saw him stand up and give a sharp look round, his facewearing rather an anxious expression.

  "You can't see the _Teaser_, sir?" I said.

  "No, my lad; I was looking at the weather. I fear it is going to blow ahurricane. The sky looks rather wild."

  I had been thinking that it looked very beautiful, but I did not say so.Certainly, though, the wind had risen a little, and I noticed that TomJecks kept on glowering about him in a very keen way.

  Just then Mr Brooke shook out the little Union Jack which we hadbrought from our sinking boat, and held it ready to signal the comingjunk, which was now only about a mile away, and came swiftly along, tillour leader stood right forward, holding on by a stay, and waved thelittle flag.

  "Three cheers for the red, white, and blue!" muttered Tom Jecks. "Lookat that now. We in this here little cock-boat just shows our colours,and that theer great bamboo mountain of a thing goes down on hermarrow-bones to us, metty-phizickly. See that, Mr Herrick, sir?"

  "Yes, Tom," I said excitedly; "and it's something to be proud of too."

  For, in obedience to our signals, I saw one of the many Chinamen onboard wave his hands as he seemed to be shouting, and the great vesselslowly and cumbrously rounded to, so that in a few minutes we were ableto run close alongside.

  "Tell them to heave us a rope, Ching," said Mr Brooke, and theinterpreter shouted through his hands, with the result that a heavy coilcame crashing down, and was caught by Tom Jecks, who was nearly knockedoverboard.

  "We said a rope, not a hawser," growled the man, hauling in the rope."Better shy a few anchors down too, you bladder-headed lubbers!"

  "Now, say I want to speak to the captain," said Mr Brooke.

  A showily-dressed Chinaman leaned over the side of the huge tower of apoop, and smiled down on us.

  "Are you the captain?" cried Mr Brooke, and Ching interpreted.

  "Say he the captain," said Ching; "and you please walkee up top side
ebig junk."

  "Yes, it will be better," cried Mr Brooke. "Come with me, Herrick.You too, Ching, of course. There, keep her off a bit, Jecks, or you'llhave the boat swamped."

  He seized the right moment, and began to climb up the junk's side. Ifollowed, and Ching was close at my heels, the clumsy vessel givingplenty of foothold; and we soon stood upon the deck, where some dozen orso Chinese sailors pointed aft to where the captain stood, bowing andsmiling.

  We had a rough set of bamboo steps to mount to the clumsy poop-deck, andthere found the captain and half-a-dozen more of his men waiting.

  "Now, Ching, forward," I said. But he hung back and looked strange.

  "Don't be so jolly modest," I whispered; "we can't get on without you tointerpret."

  At that moment there came a loud hail from our boat, invisible to usfrom where we stood, and there was a tremendous splash.

  "What's the matter?" cried Mr Brooke, making for the side; but in aninstant the attitude of the Chinaman changed. One moment the captainwas smiling at us smoothly; the next there was an ugly, look in hiseyes, as he shouted something to his men, and, thrusting one hand intohis long blue coat, he made a quick movement to stop Mr Brooke fromgoing to the side.

  The various incidents took place so quickly that they almost seemed tobe simultaneous. One moment all was peace; the next it was all war, andthe warnings I heard came together.

  "Pilate! pilate!" shouted Ching.

  "Look out for yourself, my lad! Over with you!" roared Mr Brooke, as Isaw him dash at the Chinese captain, and, with his left fist extended,leap at the scoundrel, sending him rolling over on the deck.

  "Now!" cried Mr Brooke again, "jump!"

  "Jlump! jlump!" yelled Ching; and with a bound I was on the great carvengangway, just avoiding three men who made a rush for me, and the nextmoment I had leaped right away from the tower-like stern of the hugejunk, and appeared to be going down and down for long enough through theglowing air before striking the water with a heavy splash, andcontinuing my descent right into the darkness, from which it seemed tome that I should never be able to rise again.

  At last my head popped out of the dark thundering water, and, blinkingmy eyes as I struck out, I was saluted with a savage yelling; the watersplashed about me, and I heard shots; but for a few moments, as I lookedexcitedly round, I did not realise that I was being pelted with piecesof chain, and fired at as a mark for bullets.

  But in those brief moments I saw what I wanted: Mr Brook and Ching safeand swimming towards me, and the boat not many yards behind them, withtwo of our men at the oars, and the others opening fire upon the peoplewho crowded the side of the junk, and yelled at us and uttered the mostsavage throats.

  "This way, Herrick, my lad," panted Mr Brooke, as he reached me. "Ah!did that hit you?"

  "No, sir, only splashed up the water; I'm all right!" I cried; "thebullet didn't touch."

  "Swim boat! swim boat!" cried Ching excitedly.

  But our danger was not from the water but the sharp fire which theChinese kept up now, fortunately without killing any of us. Then theboat glided between us and the junk, ready hands were outstretched fromthe side, and I was hauled in by Tom Jecks, who then reached over andgrasped Ching by the pigtail.

  "No, no touchee tow-chang!" roared the poor fellow.

  "All right; then both hands and in with you."

  "Lay hold of the sheet, Jecks!" cried Mr Brooke, who sprang over thethwart to the tiller, rammed it down, and the sail began to fill, butonly slowly, for the towering junk acted as a lee, and all the time themen yelled, pelted, and fired at us.

  "Look out, my lads; give it to them now. Make fast the sheet, Jecks,and get your rifle. Ten pounds to the man who brings down the captain!"roared Mr Brooke. "Here, Herrick, my gun!" he cried; and, handing itto him, I seized mine, thrust in two wet cartridges with my wet fingers,and, doubting whether they would go off, I took aim at a man on thepoop, who was holding a pot to which another was applying a light.

  The next minute the pot was in a blaze, and the man raised it above hishead to hurl it right upon us, but it dropped straight down into the seaclose to the junk, and the man staggered away with his hands to hisface, into which he must have received a good deal of the charge ofduck-shot with which my piece was charged.

  Excited by my success, I fired the second barrel at a man who wasleaning over the bulwarks, taking aim at us with his great clumsymatchlock, and his shot did not hit any one, for the man dropped hispiece overboard and shrank away.

  As I charged again, I could hear and see that our lads were firing awayas rapidly as they could up at the crowded bulwarks, while Tom Jecks wasmaking his piece bear upon the deck of the high poop whenever he couldget a shot at the captain; and now, too, Mr Brooke was firing off hissmall-shot cartridges as rapidly as possible, the salt water not havingpenetrated the well-wadded powder enclosed in the brass cases.

  By this time we were fifty yards away from the junk, and gliding morerapidly through the water, which was splashed up about us and the boathit again and again with a sharp rap by the slugs from the Chinamen'smatchlocks.

  The men were returning the fire with good effect as we more than oncesaw, and twice over one of the wretches who sought to hurl a blazing potof fire was brought down.

  "They can't hurt us now," I thought, as I ceased firing, knowing that mysmall-shot would be useless at the distance we now were, when I saw aspark of light moving on the poop, and then sat paralysed by horror as Igrasped what was going to take place. It was only a moment or twobefore there was a great flash and a roar, with a puff ofsunset-reddened smoke, hiding the poop of the junk; for they haddepressed a big swivel gun to make it bear upon us, and then fired,sending quite a storm of shot, stones, and broken pieces of ironcrashing through the roof of our little cabin, and tearing a great holein our sail.

  "That's done it!" shouted Tom Jecks, giving the stock of his rifle aheavy slap.

  "You've hit him?" cried Mr Brooke.

  "Yes, sir; I caught him as he stood by watching the cannon fired."

  "Yes, that's right," cried Mr Brooke, shading his eyes and gazing hardat the scene on the high poop, where, in the last rays of the settingsun, we could see men holding up their captain, who was distinctive fromhis gay attire and lacquered hat, which now hung forward as thescoundrel's head drooped upon his breast.

  "Cease firing!" said Mr Brooke, for we were a hundred yards away now,and rapidly increasing the distance. "We can do no more good. Thankyou, Jecks. Now then, who is hurt?"

  There was no reply.

  "What, no one?" cried Mr Brooke.

  "Yes, sir: why don't you speak out, Tom Jecks? You got it, didn't you?"

  "Well, so did you; but I arn't going to growl."

  "More arn't I, messmate. It's nothing much, sir."

  "Let me see," said Mr Brooke, as we sailed steadily away, while thejunk still remained stationary; and, after a rapid examination, heplugged and bound a wound in the man's shoulder, and performed a similaroperation upon Tom Jeck's hind-leg, as he called it, a bullet or slughaving gone right through the calf.

  I could not help admiring the calm stolidity with which the two men borewhat must have been a painful operation, for neither flinched, but satin turn gazing at his messmate, as much as to say, "That's the way totake it, my lad; look at me."

  This done, Mr Brooke turned his attention to the wound received by theboat, where the charge from the swivel gun had gone crashing through thetop of the cabin and out at the side. It was a gaping wound in theslight planking of the boat, but the shot had torn their way out somedistance above the water-line, so that unless very rough weather came onthere was no danger, and we had other and more serious business now totake up our attention.

  For Ching pointed out to us a certain amount of bustle on board thejunk, which was explained by a puff of smoke and a roar, assimultaneously the water was ploughed up close to our stern.

  "Not clever at their gun drill," said Mr Brooke coolly, as he took thehe
lm himself now, and sent the boat dancing along over the waves, so asto keep her endwise to the junk, and present a smaller object for thepirate's aim.

  "That's bad management under some circumstances, Herrick," he said,smiling. "It's giving an enemy the chance of raking us from stern tostem, but I don't believe they can hit us.--I thought not."

  He said this smiling, as the water was churned up again by another shot,but several yards away upon our right.

  Another shot and another followed without result, and by this time wewere getting well out of range of the swivel gun, a poor, roughly-madepiece, and our distance was being rapidly increased.

  "Going away!" said Ching, as we saw the great mat-sails of the junkfill.

  "Or to come in chase--which?" said Mr Brooke quietly. "It does notmatter," he added; "we shall soon have darkness again, and I think weshall be too nimble for them then."

  "Beg pardon, sir," said Tom Jecks.

  "Yes, what is it? Your wound painful?"

  "Tidy, sir; but that warn't it. I was only going to say, look yonder."

  He pointed right away east, and, as we followed his finger with oureyes, they lit upon a sight which would have even made me, inexperiencedas I was, think it was time to seek the shelter of some port. And thatsomething unusual was going to happen, I knew directly from Mr Brooke'sway of standing up to shelter his eyes, and then, after gazing for sometime in one direction, he turned in that of the great Chinese port wehad so lately left.