Part 6

We got most of the filth out of ours by the middle of the second day, and the holds didn’t smell so badly, though we could never get the Chinese kind of smell out of the living places under the stern. What troubled us most were the fleas and bugs and cockroaches. They were perfectly awful, and we couldn’t get rid of them in the few days we had. We must have drowned thousands of them, but there seemed to be just as many left, and we were itching all over and covered with bite marks, even whilst we were only working in her.

The cockroaches would watch us cleaning the bottom boards, and when we went on to another spot they would swarm down over the clean places, and squashing the brutes made them dirtier than ever again.

It was Dicky who first thought of giving our junk a name. I wanted to call her _Nan_, because Nan was my chum, but then I thought perhaps the Captain wouldn’t like it, and Dicky suggested _Sally_ instead. It turned out that all the others wanted the same name, but Dicky was the only one of them that got it. You see, the letters had to be cut out in wood first, and as all the carpenter people were so frightfully busy, it was almost impossible to get anything extra done at all. But Dicky had made great friends with the old Boatswain and Carpenter. He used to go and yarn with them in their cabins on the other side of the gunroom flat, and used to take refuge there sometimes when we had driven him out of the gunroom with our chaff, and sometimes hide there when he was afraid of being bullied, and Jim was not there to protect him. It was really owing to this that we were the only ones who did manage to get it done, and then Dicky actually had the pluck to ask the Commander for some gold leaf to gild the letters. He volunteered to do that too, and I went with him to the Commander’s cabin—outside the door—to give him courage. When he knocked timidly, and we heard the Commander sing out, "Yes, what is it?" in his gruff voice, Dicky looked as if he would have bolted away—I expect he would have done so if I hadn’t been there and the sentry as well—but he just squeezed his lips together, wriggled in at the side of the curtain, and squeaked out, "Please, sir, gold leaf," and couldn’t say another word, he was so frightened. I went in then, "Please, sir, we’ve got Mr. Williams, the Carpenter, to cut out _Sally_ for our junk—in big wooden letters—and we want gold leaf, please."

The Commander grinned at us—he was a perfect ripper—took a book of gold leaf out of a drawer, and gave it to Dicky. "D’you boys think I’m made of gold leaf?" We didn’t even thank him, we were so excited, but rushed for’ard to the "paint shop" under the fo’c’stle to see old Modley, the painter, and ask him to put the gold leaf on for us. We couldn’t get anything out of him, though. He was a bit of a sea lawyer, and he "wasn’t going to do nothink but what he’d orders to do from the Commander or the First Lootenant".

We didn’t know what to do then, and went on deck and climbed down to the junk, feeling miserable. Scroggs was there screwing the letters on to a board—Scroggs was the petty officer who was coming with us—and we told him all that had happened, and how we’d got the gold leaf, but couldn’t get Modley to gild the letters.

"You just give it to me, sir," he said; "that ’ere Modley be a bit of a ’ard nut, but we both comes from the same village down Dorset way, an’ ’is missus goes to the same chapel as my old missus, and ’e may do it for me."

He managed to get round him somehow, and when, next morning, Dicky and I ran up on deck in our pyjamas, as soon as it got light, to have another look at the junk, the first thing we saw was the board on her stern, and the letters all beautifully gilded. We had to climb down, just as we were, and lean over and look at them. They looked simply gorgeous, and there were Scroggs, and Sharpe, the other petty officer, and one of the carpenter’s crew, and old Modley grinning at us. They had just finished fixing the board to the stern. "Thank you very much," was all we could think of saying; and when we all climbed up aboard the _Vigilant_ again, the ship’s cocoa was just being served out, and Scroggs brought us a bowl of it and said, "Here’s luck to the _Sally_," and we all sipped it, and Modley said, "May the Lord have mercy on the little lass!" but the carpenter’s crew didn’t say anything religious, because he burnt his mouth.

Then we jumped down below before the Commander could see us on deck in pyjamas, and rolled ourselves in our hammocks again—we were jolly cold.

We had a good bit of gold leaf left, and I nudged Jim, whose hammock was next mine, to tell him that he could have it. I knew he wanted it very badly to make his junk look smart, and when we woke him and he knew about it he gave a whoop! and tumbled out and woke the others; and Dicky and I watched them having a grand pillow fight, till we couldn’t stand it any longer, and joined in, and got splendidly hot—even Dicky joined in!

All that day we were busy getting ammunition on board, and it was simply grand to see the boxes being lowered into the hold and jammed there, so that they would not fall about. There were 200 cartridges for the six-pounder—the long brass cartridge and the little shell all in one—and three thousand rounds for the Maxim gun. Then there were the casks for the water, and a boat’s stove to be secured, and one of the _Vigilant’s_ dinghies to be lashed down amidships.[#] We took the native boat, which you can see in the picture hanging over the stern, so that we should look more like an ordinary junk. Then there was all our own gear and boxes of biscuit and corned meat, and any amount of stuff. Dicky and I got heaps of things from old Ah Man—jam, sardines, ginger-bread biscuits, and things like that—and when we’d got them all into our little square pigeonhole, and our sea boots, mackintoshes, greatcoats, and a uniform tin case between us, there was hardly any room left for our hammocks, and, of course, it wasn’t possible to stand up inside—it was much too low. When everything was ready we took her away to practise sailing, and the Captain came with us, and was jolly pleasant, and Mr. Whitmore, the Gunnery Lieutenant, came too, and we tried the guns and, I must say, made very wretched shooting.

[#] See page 77.

After that we had to wait for the gunboats to come back from cruising, fill up with coal, and take us away in pairs.

The only thing that did make Dicky and me feel rather sad was that Jim hadn’t a junk all to himself. But he was going with Mr. Trevelyan, and as he was a splendid chap, we knew that they would have a grand time together.

They called their junk the _Ferret_. The Captain had said, "Ferret ’em out for me, Trevelyan," so we all thought the name was jolly appropriate. They only had it painted on the stern, not done with big wooden letters as ours was. They had tried to use the rest of our gold leaf, but had made a mess of the job and wasted it all, which was rather a pity.

The Commander sent Mr. Langham a list of all the fellows who were to go in the six junks, and he stuck it on the notice board in the gunroom.

This is a copy of it, and will explain how they were "told off", and who were to go in them.

_H.M.S. Vigilant_, _Tinghai Harbour._

The six junks will be told off as tenders as follows:—

Tenders to H.M.S. _Ringdove_—

Junk No. 1, { Lieutenant Mervyn L. Trevelyan. { Midshipman James Rawlings.

Junk No. 2, { Midshipman Richard Ford { Naval Cadet Richard F. Morton.

Tenders to H.M.S. _Goldfinch_—

Junk No. 3, { Lieutenant Ronald G. Forbes. { Midshipman the Hon. Talbot Withers.

Junk No. 4, { Midshipman Harry G. Webster. { Naval Cadet W. D. St. G. Ponsonby

Tenders to H.M.S. _Sparrow_—

Junk No. 5, { Lieutenant Benjamin Langham. { Midshipman Percy Jones.

Junk No. 6, { Midshipman Steven J. Johnston. { Naval Cadet John E. Smith.

Two petty officers and nine seaman ratings and one signal rating will be detailed to each tender, also one native pilot.

The tenders will act under the orders of the Commanding Officer of the gunboat to which they are attached, and will be prepared to leave Tinghai after the gunboats have completed with coal and provisions.

CHAS. E. LESTER, _Captain._

We had nothing to do now but wait for the _Ringdove_, so Mr. Trevelyan took his junk and our junk the _Sally_ away sailing every day, till we really got quite good at managing the clumsy gear and the huge matting sails. We did some more gun practice as well.

The _Goldfinch_ and _Sparrow_ took their junks away before our gunboat arrived, and we gave them a jolly good send-off. At last our turn came, and the _Ringdove_ finished coaling, and we were given orders to be ready to start at daybreak.

The evening before we had to start there hadn’t been a breath of wind, and Dicky and I sat up whistling for it till very late. This was the first time we had spent the night aboard, and we really couldn’t sleep because of the excitement and the fleas. The wind did come by the morning, but from the wrong direction, and the _Ringdove_, to save time, simply towed us away behind her.

It wasn’t a very glorious start, but they gave us a grand cheer, and the Captain had shouted, "Good luck, Dick! pull your pound for the good old West Country," and that made me gloriously happy, because he had never called me "Dick" since the first day I joined.

When we had got round the corner, out of sight of the _Vigilant_, and knew that we were in for any amount of adventures, we felt simply ripping, and the sun came out too, and we sat on deck and dried our things.

We were so close to the _Ferret_ that we could talk to Jim, and presently he came out of his "kennel"—he called his a "kennel", and we called ours a "rabbit hutch"—and yelled across to us to look. He had a huge cake in both hands. "You’ve got one too, I expect," he shouted, and we crawled into our hutch; and in a corner, under the sea boots, was just such another, all covered with icing, and "Chin Chin Joss from Ah Man" scrawled on it in sugar. Wasn’t that jolly decent of the old messman? Of course we’d spent no end of money getting sardines and jam and biscuit from him—those sovereigns the Captain had given Jim and myself had come in jolly useful—but we never expected anything like this, and it just made us completely happy, and we had a piece each on the spot, and waved across to Jim whilst he and Mr. Trevelyan had slices too.

The pilot who came to us was named Ah Chee, a funny-looking old chap, and I’m sure you wouldn’t have guessed his age within twenty years. He could talk a little "pidgin" English, and volunteered to do the cooking—in a tiny little galley place over a brazier belonging to the junk, and that boat’s stove which we had fitted up—and did it jolly well too, except when he’d been smoking too much opium.

As I told you before, Scroggs was the name of one petty officer, a fine great chap, and Sharpe, a fat, good-natured little man, the other. They were both jolly good at their job, and the Commander had given us a good lot of seamen too.

When it got dark they started a "sing song", and Dicky and I each sang a song. I sang "We’ll rant and we’ll roar", and Dicky sang "Clementine", and we had an awfully jolly time, and were just as happy as anything, but for those wretched crawling and jumping things.

The _Ringdove_ towed us along for two whole days, and on the morning after the second night Mr. Rashleigh had towed us to wind’ard of the Chung-li Tao group of islands. He then stopped her engines and hauled us alongside for orders. We took our charts with us, Mr. Trevelyan and I, and he told me I was to cruise to the eastward and search all the channels, and rejoin him to leeward of a certain island within four days—I forget the name of the island; and he told us a lot more of what we must do in case the weather or the wind changed, but as he had written it all down, it was not necessary to remember it. Then he said goodbye, wished us good luck, and his final orders were: "Keep your guns covered up with old tarpaulins, don’t let your people show themselves when you’re close to a village or a junk, and don’t attempt to look too smart. Don’t hoist your sails as if you were in a blooming hurry, and if you’re not sure where you are, anchor for the night. You’re intended to be ordinary merchant junks, and you’re just bits of bait—sprats to catch a whale—and you have to get hold of some of these fellows for the Captain, and get ’em alive too—he doesn’t want dead ’uns. If you meet more than you can tackle, just run down to me, and," he added solemnly, "if other things happen, keep one cartridge in your revolvers for yourselves."

That made me feel rather creepy and coldish, but not exactly frightened, because Mr. Rashleigh is so plump and so—well—funny looking that, however solemnly he tried to say anything, you really wanted to laugh.

Just before we went away Dr. Hibbert, the jolly Surgeon of the _Ringdove_, gave Mr. Trevelyan and myself two big wine bottles each. They were marked "Foretop" and "Maintop". He winked cheerily at us: "You’ll find ’em useful, you fellows. If any of your chaps gets a pain below the belt, shove in a big whack of the ’Maintop’ bottle; if he gets a pain above the belt, give him half a dozen whacks of the ’Foretop’."

I marked mine "Above" and "Below", and stowed them away very carefully in a corner. He gave me some tobacco too; for though I oughtn’t to have smoked—I wasn’t eighteen—it was rather different when I was away from the ship. I had brought my pipe with me, but, like an ass, had forgotten any tobacco.

Well, we shook hands and then off we went, the "Ringdoves" cheering us, and all of us cheering each other. She steamed off to the north’ard to get to leeward of the islands, we went away towards the sun, and the _Ferret_ the opposite way, Jim waving from the poop and sending a last "Luck to _Sally_!".

There was quite a good breeze blowing, and when we’d got all our sails hauled up and the leeboard down, we went flying along, heeling over till the lee gunwale raced through and under the water. It was simply grand. The sun came up too, and made it all the more cheerful, although there wasn’t much warmth in it, and when the _Ringdove_ and the _Ferret_ had both got out of sight, Dicky gave a great sigh of contentment.

I must say that, at first, I felt frightened at being alone, and should have been jolly pleased to see the _Ringdove’s_ masts and funny little funnel sticking up over the horizon; but presently I forgot to be nervous, because the junk sailed so well, and it was simply ripping to be in command, all by myself, with a six-pounder and a Maxim gun, and all those two hundred shells down below, and to think of the surprise we should give any junk which tried to take us, because, you see, none of them had ever known what a bursting shell was like. There was Scroggs to fall back upon too, if one really got into a tight fix and couldn’t make up one’s mind. He was such a huge chap, that he could have lifted Dicky and me up with each hand; but he would always talk about his missus and his "kids" if we gave him the slightest opening, and—well—neither Dicky nor I were the least enthusiastic about them after the second day, and I’m quite certain that Sharpe felt just the same—he had to live with him, too—because I heard him say, "Now chuck it, if you don’t want to drive me off’n my blooming rocker."

To show you how the pirates had scared everything off the sea, we never saw a single junk all those two days we were being towed by the _Ringdove_, and now we had the sea all to ourselves. Our first island was right ahead, and we soon got up to it, and Ah Chee came out of his pigeonhole and sniffed and looked, and sniffed and looked again, and smiled, so we knew everything was all right, from the "running-on-rocks" point of view. I didn’t tell you before, but Mr. Trevelyan had had a great idea before we left Tinghai, and bought enough loose-fitting blue Chinese short coats, and enough native caps to go round his men and mine too; so now, as we got quite close to the land, we made the men stick them on, and Dicky and I put ours on, and looked jolly funny, I expect. I couldn’t help thinking what my mother would imagine had happened if she’d been able to see me rigged up like this, and I was pretty sure that Nan would say something to make me get red and angry. But it was grand fun, all the same.

We had one of the _Vigilant’s_ dinghies, besides that native sampan hung over the stern, and it had to be covered up with a tarpaulin, so that its shape wouldn’t show through. Good old Ah Chee seemed to understand our game, and ran in quite close, and when we were nearing a small village, began gesticulating and signing to me to lower the sails a little. "Too plenty quick—plenty too quick—pilons thinkee you no got"—and he pointed down to the hold, and I suppose meant "cargo"—"no good makee catchee." We lowered our mizzen altogether—it wasn’t doing much good anyhow—and slacked off the sheets, and went past very slowly, Dicky and I looking through our telescopes, and hoping to see something coming after us. There was nothing there, though, and Ah Chee shook his head—"Too plenty good fellow can do."

One or two small junks were hauled up above high-water mark, with their masts out—to make it all the more difficult for pirates to carry them off, I suppose—a few children were playing with the dogs and the pigs on the shore, and one or two miserable wretches were hauling in handlines and picking small fish off the hooks—we could see them glitter in the sun as they wriggled.

Then Ah Chee signed to us to go faster, so we hoisted the mizzen again, and hauled in our sheets and boomed along. We spent all that day doing this, running down one channel and beating up another, and only once saw any junks. There were two beating to windward very slowly, and when we sighted them Dicky and I were very excited, and brought Ah Chee out to look at them. He only shook his head and repeated, "Plenty good fellow can do."

Dicky suggested that we should see how fast we could sail and try and overhaul them, and we were getting on finely, gaining every minute, though we could see them doing their best to go faster; but presently Ah Chee, who had borrowed my telescope, made us slow down, shaking his head, "Plenty bad joss can do—if too plenty quick go—him Chinaman," and he pretended to dive overboard. Dicky understood what he meant first—that the Chinaman would think us pirates, and would jump overboard if we overhauled them, so we lowered our foresail, just to comfort them, and eased down.

We had to keep under way that night, because the next lot of little islands which we had to examine were about nine miles away, and the breeze had fallen considerably. I slept jolly soundly till midnight—I rolled myself in my blanket and slept on deck, to escape the bugs under the poop—and then relieved Dicky for the middle watch.

It was jolly cold, but the stars peeped out every now and again, and it was just light enough to see rocks or land a hundred yards ahead, so there was very little danger of our running ashore.

It was the first night I had spent at sea under sail since the Upton Overy days, and this made me think a lot of the old village, and to wonder what they were doing at home. It was so jolly to know, after all the time—the years, in fact—that I’d been longing to come to sea with the Captain, that I was now doing quite an important job for him, and that I might be lucky enough to help him, and even be able to find Mr. Travers and Sally Hobbs and her father. It was grand, and I did so enjoy myself that night, with, everyone, except myself and the men at the helm and a lookout man for’ard, sound asleep.

I had only the foresail and mizzen set, because there was no reason for going fast, and I was rather nervous about squalls. You couldn’t see them coming at night—at any rate I couldn’t, because I’d had so jolly little experience.

I stood up alone on the poop, near the Maxim gun, and kept my eye on the sails and the long, narrow deck below me, and I don’t know whether you will understand what I mean, but I felt frightfully proud and conceited. I’d felt like that ever since we left the _Ringdove_, but I’d done my best not to let it ooze out, for fear that Dicky and the men should think me an ass, or too cocky, and now it seemed to swell up from my boots, and gave me an awfully funny feeling all over.

We sighted the island about six bells, and then I tacked away again, as it was no use to go in close till daylight. Scroggs relieved me at four o’clock, and I felt almost sorry, but crept in alongside Dicky, as it was raining, and went to sleep directly, without disturbing him.

It didn’t seem many minutes before Scroggs woke me. "The breeze is steady, sir, and the island’s on our port bow, and I think, sir, that something is following us and just smelling ’around’."

I crawled out like a shot. It was raining gently, and the sails were all damp and dripping, but I couldn’t see anything at first except the long dark line of the island to the east.

Scroggs pointed down to leeward, and I thought I made out, just for a second, three great sails.

"She’s there, sure enough, sir; I’ve seen her, off and on, for the last half-hour, and she’s working up to wind’ard, as if she wanted to have a look at us."

I watched and watched, my heart thumping like mad, and presently I caught sight of her dark sails again.

We went off on the other tack, and, sure enough, the next time I saw her she’d done so too.

I knew then that she must be following us.

"She don’t quite know what we are, sir," Scroggs chuckled. "She’ll know a bit later."

Presently, as it grew lighter and she got closer, we could see her all the time. She looked huge in that light, and had four masts and four immense sails, not three, as we had thought at first. She was heeling over tremendously, sailing two knots to our one, and overhauling us fast.

If you think that I was frightened you are jolly well right.

*CHAPTER VI*

*The "Sally" goes into Action*

The Chinaman draws Nearer—First Shots—The Maxim Gun—A Near Thing—Four to One—Running the Gauntlet—"Well Done, Sir!"—At Close Quarters—The The Grappling Iron—Left Alone

_Continued by Midshipman Ford_

"What shall we do?" I whispered to Scroggs. "Go down and have a look at her?"

"Beggin’ your pardon, sir, you’ll just keep straight on, and edge a bit more up in the wind, if she’ll do it. Once you’ve got the wind, sir, and can keep it, you can do about what you like; keep away if you want to, run down to her if you want to, and she’ll have to do what you want her to, and when you want her to."

Then I remembered reading all about fights in the old time, and when we were in the _Britannia_, and learnt about actions in the old sailing days, how each side always tried to get to wind’ard first, before fighting, and that the man who was to wind’ard could fight or not just as he pleased. I’d never thought much of it before, but now that Scroggs had put it so plainly, I saw, all at once, how practically everything depended on having the wind’ard position.

"How about giving her the mainsail?" I asked Scroggs. "She’s gaining very fast."

"She’s doing all right, sir! We doesn’t want to run away. Just you edge up a bit more in the wind and wait for her. Time enough for the mains’l if she be a pirate, and we have to chase her."

So we edged up into the wind again and began to stand out to sea, beyond the island.

I pointed that out to Scroggs—I felt fearfully excited and nervous.