Part 14

"I--I--intend--to--to--follow them," said Helston nervously, "and I'll give you twenty-four hours to formulate them."

"I do not require twenty-four hours, sir. Two days I want to examine the coast-line of the island more thoroughly. If I obtain no accurate information as to the position of the guns and other defences they have, I want you to bombard the entrance on the third day, and at the end of the third day I will give you my further plans, which depend on the result of the information I can gain during that time; that is, sir, if you require them."

"But what then?" asked Helston nervously.

"I cannot say, sir. All depends on what we discover by the end of that time."

"Very good, Cummins; you can make what dispositions you choose."

"It all depends on the weather, sir, and I must have calm days--the first two calm days."

"All right! Come down and look at that chart again."

"Thank you, sir, and I'll have another cigar as well."

* * * * *

The visit of the _Undaunted_ and the mail which she had brought were perhaps more welcome to the gun-rooms of the _Laird_ and _Strong Arm_ than to anyone else, for monotony palls more readily on youngsters than it does on men, and certainly they become more rapidly home-sick.

Dinner that night in the _Laird's_ gun-room, though it did consist chiefly of corned meat and sardines, was a joyous meal.

Every one of them had heard from home, everyone had something to talk about, and the gun-room, littered with piles of newly opened newspapers, illustrated weeklies and magazines, was like a bear-garden.

Books, boots, telescopes, school-books and midshipmen's logs, papers, uniform caps, sextant boxes, and oilskins lay in confused heaps on the deck and on the tops of the midshipmen's lockers, where they had been swept off the table during the progress of laying it for dinner.

Several rapid and vigorous passages of arms had already delighted everybody, except, of course, the seniors, who did not appreciate the damage resulting to crockery and glasses, of which they were already running short.

Glover himself, forgetting for a moment his wounded leg (it was now perfectly healed), had thrown himself with unaccustomed vigour into a melee at the lower end of the table--the end farthest from where Jeffreys the Sub (the reigning monarch) and the two Assistant Engineers sat--and had disappeared from view under it. Here he was passed from one to another by the gentle process of being kicked from side to side, and his only chance was to hug the first pair of feet he could get hold of and drag the owner down with him.

This he did, and there they lay and struggled as to who should gain the vacant place, whilst their chums joyously drummed on their ribs indiscriminately and laid odds on one or the other appearing first.

Eventually Glover's head did appear first, but a glass of water poured over his head by a chum who was backing the other, and a vigorous pull from below by his opponent made him disappear again, and the table-cloth went with him, dragging with it knives and forks, glasses and plates, in a mighty cataract.

This was too much for the onlookers, and with one accord they disappeared under the table and fought, while the domestics, perfectly accustomed to such a scene, jumped nimbly round, saving plates and glasses as these came to sight amidst the struggling jumble of arms and legs.

Those at the upper end of the table, which fortunately had its own separate cloth, went on with their meal undisturbed--all except Dumpling, who, seizing the mess extras-book, dealt vigorous blows on any undefended portion of anatomy which disclosed itself from beneath the table.

That was Dumpling "all over". Was there a fight or a "scrum", he was always near at hand, whacking indiscriminately, but never venturing a "rough and tumble" himself.

By this time the uproar was so great that Jeffreys, Ogston, and the other Assistant Engineer could literally not hear themselves speak, and the table, heaving once or twice as the midshipmen fought and struggled beneath it, gave ominous signs of capsizing.

"Stop it, you young idiots!" roared Jeffreys, smiting the table with his open hand and calling the senior midshipman by name.

In a minute they were back in their places, flushed and happy, with collars gone, coats torn, and here and there small gashes on their faces, which their nearest chums wiped affectionately with the crumpled table-cloth.

Order once restored, they fell to with redoubled vigour, and sardines disappeared like magic--sardines, tinned butter and biscuits.

"Well, I can't get over that news from home," said Dumpling for about the fourth time since the mail had come aboard.

"Whatever is it, Dumpling?" they all chorused. "Your old cat had kittens?"

"No, you chaps, didn't I tell you? My sister is engaged to the son of a duke. I simply can't get over it."

"Can't you, really! Then try if that will help you," sang out Mellins, and he heaved a sea-boot at Dumpling's head. Dumpling was much too nimble, and it only crashed into the helpless Mess steward, who was doing his best to serve them all, smashed to smithereens a jug which he was carrying, and caught him fair and square on the chest.

"Awfully sorry, Watson," said Mellins apologetically.

"Put Mr. Dunning down for six jugs, Messman," said Jeffreys--"six for sky-larking."

"But I didn't throw it; it wasn't my fault," stammered Dumpling.

"Your fault, be hanged! you deserved it."

"But my sister _is_ engaged to the son of a----" he began again.

"Come here, Dunning!" Jeffreys yelled. "Now, stand at my side here; give me your arm. No, I'll be quite gentle with you," as he twisted it slightly and Dumpling winced. "Now, tell us all very nicely about your sister. Whom is she going to marry?"

"The son of a du----" began Dumpling.

"No, no, she isn't, my friend. Just repeat after me: My sister--is--going--to marry--a--broken-down--drunken--cab-driver. Now do as I tell you," as Dumpling became defiant, "or before you know where you are you shall have a dozen of the best across your back." And he twisted his arm till he writhed with pain.

"My sister is--going--to--marry a cabman," he stuttered, red in the face.

"A--broken-down--drunken cab-driver," Jeffreys roared; but Dumpling was spared the indignity of repeating that, for a messenger put his head in at the door and sang out that the midshipmen of the picket-boat and second cutter were wanted in the Commander's cabin immediately, and as Dumpling had the second cutter, he wriggled himself free and escaped.

Mellins was the proud "owner" of the picket-boat, and, with their recent animosities forgotten, both boys bolted like rabbits to the Commander's cabin.

"Mr. Christie" (Mellins's real name), he began, as they both stood to attention, "you will have your boat ready, with steam up, to hoist out at five o'clock to-morrow morning. See that her tanks and bunkers are full. You, Mr. Dunning, are the duty cutter for to-morrow, I believe. You will also be ready to lower into the water at five o'clock, and be prepared to be taken in tow. You can provide rifles and pistols for your men, and sling the former under the boat's thwarts. Ammunition will be given you in the morning. Both of you will see that your crews' food is prepared overnight, and that your boats' breakers (water-barrels) are full of drinking-water. Go away and make your preparations at once."

Both boys slipped away with eager faces, but with this difference, that whilst Mellins went off to find his coxswain, and was clambering into his boat two minutes afterwards to make certain that all was correct, Dumpling first went down to the gun-room to pose as a hero, specially selected by the Commander, and, with a lot of unnecessary fuss, found his dirk, and took it for'ard to sharpen it on the grindstone.

"That youngster wants kicking badly," said Ogston.

"He shall get it when he comes back," answered Jeffreys nonchalantly.

*CHAPTER XVII*

*Spying Out the Pirates*

We go Inshore--In Under the Forts--Helplessly Drifting--We Hide among Rocks--A Terrible Moment--Spying Out the Pirates--Taking Notes--Hopkins Again--How shall we Escape?--Cummins Decides

_Mr. Midshipman Glover tells how he visited the island_

The wound in my leg healed completely in seven days, and I was as right as rain, but that old brute, Dr. Fox, would not let me go off the sick-list.

You can imagine how wild this made me, for I was dreadfully afraid of losing my billet in "No. 3".

The coming of the _Undaunted_ had put new life into everybody, and when Mellins and Dumpling got their orders that night, the wildest rumours went flying round.

I tried my best to make Mellins stow me away in the bows of his picket-boat, but, good chap as he was, he would not hear of it, even though I offered to bring a big home-made cake which had come in the mail.

Poor old Mellins! it _was_ hard for him to refuse.

Just think, then, how I felt when at 4.30 next morning the half-deck sentry woke me with, "Commander wants you, sir, immediate!"

Down I climbed--into my clothes--shoved a cap on my head without brushing my hair, and rushed up on deck.

"Eh! Mr. Glover," the Commander chuckled, as he looked at me over a cup of hot ship's cocoa. "Dr. Fox says you are fit for duty, so be prepared to leave the ship at 5 a.m. to report yourself to Mr. Parker."

Hardly knowing whether I was standing on my head or on my heels for joy, I dived down below and started packing my chest; but I need not have been in such a hurry, for the Commander sent his messenger to tell me to take only what I could carry, so I had to be content with Dumpling's leather bag again. He certainly did have jolly good bags. I managed to shove in most of the cake, after chopping off a big chunk, which I hid in Toddles's locker, and another, which I gave the coxswain of the picket-boat as a surprise for Mellins. I saw him hide it among some oily rags, so I guessed that old Mellins would never find it.

It was simply ripping getting back to "No. 3" again--Mr. Parker, Mr. Chapman the Engineer, and Collins the Sub all jolly pleased to see me, and Pat Jones too. The only thing wanting was Toddles, and I had not the heart to say good-bye to him, but left him snoring in his hammock--he'd had the middle watch.

The Commander came across to "No. 3" with me, and when he was aboard we took the picket-boat and second cutter in tow and steamed slowly inshore towards the island, not straight for the entrance, but some way past the place where the two pirate torpedo-boats had run ashore, making a great sweeping circle in order not to come under fire from the forts. We towed the picket-boat in order to save her coal.

As soon as we were close to the land and beyond that projecting corner of which I have told you, and which hid us from the forts, we cast off the boats, the Commander going away in the cutter and the picket-boat taking her in tow. They went as close inshore as possible, creeping slowly along, away from the entrance, and examining the rocks bit by bit, whilst we kept abreast of them ready to open fire if the Chinese did any rifle-shooting from the cliffs.

It was not particularly exciting work, and as far as we could see from "No. 3", there was not a single place up which a cat could climb. It was not till the afternoon that we saw anything approaching a beach, and even that had perpendicular cliffs behind it covered with brushwood.

They must have been dead tired in the boats, but the Commander still kept at it, standing up in the stern-sheets of the cutter jotting down notes, taking sketches, and reading off angles on his sextant.

Then, however, we got round to the back of the island.

The shore here was low, but too high for us to see over it into the harbour, and just as we caught sight of the little channel running out there, a crowd of ragged ruffians showed up and began peppering away at the boats.

We let into them with our 12-pounder on the bridge, found the range with our second shot, and sent them scurrying like rabbits to cover, followed by a man on a shaggy pony, who cantered slowly after them.

"D' you recognize your friend?" asked Mr. Parker, handing me his telescope. Sure enough, it was the black-bearded man who had fought so splendidly on board that destroyer. I recognized him at once.

"Glad he got safely home," I said.

"I don't think he's got home yet," grinned Mr. Parker. "I don't think he'll find many home comforts in this island. Hurry him up, Jones," turning to the gun's crew, who had ceased firing.

Jones took careful aim, fired, and the shell burst just behind the pony, sending up a cloud of dust and stones. The frightened beast reared and tried to bolt, but the rider calmly quieted it, and, shaking his fist at us, walked it slowly over the crest of the slope.

"That's a fine chap," said Mr. Parker admiringly, and sent me down to his cabin to get him some more tobacco.

Our work for the day was done, and after towing the boats back to the _Laird_ we joined "No. 2", and after dark took up the usual position close to the entrance for the night.

As we towed the cutter back to the ship I could see that Dumpling was wildly excited, and wondered what yarns he would spin in the gun-room that night about his experiences under fire.

The Commander did not return to his ship, but came back to "No. 3" and turned in early, dog-tired--too tired even to smoke or make any funny remarks.

I was not allowed on deck, and slept like a log.

Presently--it seemed only ten minutes afterwards--I was roughly shaken and, half dazed, ordered on deck to get the dinghy into the water. It was very cold, quite dark, and a damp drizzle made everything slippery--as cheerless an outlook as one could imagine.

We got the dinghy out, put a compass into her, and Jones, with the oars wrapped round with cotton-waste to prevent them from making any noise in the rowlocks, took his place in the boat.

Then up came the Commander in his overcoat, and he and I got into her, somebody threw me an oil-skin, and we shoved off into the dark.

I had not the least idea what we were going to do, and, only half awake, felt miserable to a degree.

"Just the morning for it," chuckled the Commander; "a damp mist and a calm sea."

"What are we going to do, sir?" I asked, beginning to wake up, and shivering.

"Right in under the forts, boy. Want you to tell me when we come to the rocks which had those lights on, wait there till it's light enough to see the guns, and slip away again. The tide is flowing strongly now, and will carry us down to the entrance."

"Oh!" was all that I could answer, and felt anything but happy.

Jones was only paddling easily, but for all that we bumped into a rock.

"Get into the bows, Glover, and shove her off," the Commander told me, and I scrambled for'ard. We went on again, keeping along towards the entrance, and occasionally bumping. On the top of one of these rocks was a great sea-bird. It flapped, screeching, into the darkness with a shrill cry of alarm, which I thought would wake the whole island.

How my heart did beat!

It was chilling work, and my teeth were chattering as I leant over the bows, shoving her off any rocks, and trying to find one with a lamp on it. There was a good deal of danger, too, for though the sea was calm, the swell was quite noticeable directly we got close in under the cliffs, and though the boat was a strongly built old tub, her sides once or twice creaked and groaned as they ground up against the rocks.

"Oars," whispered the Commander.

Jones stopped pulling, and I noticed that we did not seem to lose way; in fact, we glided quite rapidly past a great dark mass of boulders.

"We must be near the entrance now; look how we are being set in with the current," said the Commander softly.

"H'st!" he hissed, and we heard the regular noise of oar in rowlock. It was coming towards us, coming from seaward, every moment louder and clearer--ump-ump! ump-ump! backwards and forwards.

"It's a native boat," the Commander whispered; and then, "Back starboard, Jones! Back for your life, man!"

Jones jerked his oar violently in the water, and, oh horrors! the rotten wood cracked, gave way, and the blade fell into the sea as a dark shape went splashing past us, with a little glow amidships as from a red-hot charcoal brazier--enough to show the dim blotch of a man swaying to and fro, grunting loudly at each ump-ump of a long sweep over the stern.

We thought that he must see us or hear the noise of the breaking oar, and remained as still as death, whilst the native--a fisherman probably coming back from raising his traps--disappeared into the darkness.

What were we to do?

We had no spare oar in the boat, and Jones vainly tried to scull with the remaining oar over the stern. He could not even bring her bows round against the current, which we could now hear bubbling and sluicing past the rocks, and when at last we managed to get her round by paddling with the bottom boards, our last oar broke off short, Jones nearly tumbling overboard as it gave way.

In desperation he ripped up another bottom board, and we three paddled as if for dear life. We could see nothing, not even each other's faces, but a cold breeze coming from the island told us that we were already inside the entrance channel, and were being sucked in between the two forts which we had come to spy out. Work how we could--and how it did tire my wrists! with a great deal of noise and splashing, which we expected every moment to raise the alarm--we could not make the least headway.

"Make for the side," came from the Commander.

But we could not even do that. The boat was out of our control, and, spinning round and round in the eddies of the current, was drawn through the dark channel towards the pirates' harbour.

I forgot that I was cold and wet and sleepy at the thought of our horrible position, but do not think I was really frightened, for, somehow or other, one never did feel frightened when the Commander was near (people have often told me the same thing since), and Jones too; I felt that he too would be able to find some way out.

Suddenly ahead of us we saw a ruddy glow outlining the sharp edges of the rocks; we swung round a corner, and then in an instant shot into the glare of a camp-fire on a rock twenty feet above us.

Two Chinamen, one of them leaning on a rifle, were standing by it, warming themselves, and we could hear them talking sleepily to one another.

We were in the shadow of the rocks and whirled past, not one of us moving a muscle or making a sound whilst we watched those sentries and expected to be seen.

It seemed ages as we were sucked in by the current.

At last we were past, and then the motions of the boat became more gentle, and we found ourselves in a kind of back eddy, with all sorts of timber and branches and floating leaves going gently round and round in a circle.

"Now paddle, boys, and don't splash," the Commander whispered, steering as best he could. The light of the fire suddenly disappeared.

"Give way, boys, we're round a corner--out of sight of the sentries."

We got the boat under some control and moved slowly towards the darkest part we could see. We had not the least idea what it would be, but pushed on, my heart going like a steam-hammer.

Presently something swept across my face, catching me a stinging blow. In my excitement and nervousness I had to bite my lips to prevent myself from yelling with fright, and clutched at it.

It was a branch of a tree.

I hauled on it, hand over hand, found my face wetted with damp leaves, and, the others helping, we made out way right in among the branches.

The Commander plunged the boat-hook over the side. "Two feet deep," he said, then knelt down, felt for the bottom plug and pulled it out, and the water came gurgling rapidly through.

In a minute it was up to our ankles, and there we had to stand and weigh the boat down as the water crept up, till gradually it was over our knees. Ugh! How cold it was! But there was nothing else to do if we wanted the boat to sink, and we had to do it.

"Crawl ashore," the Commander whispered, as water began to flow in over the gunwale, and Jones and I climbed along the branches, half in and half out of the water. Jones got to land first, stretched out his great hand and hauled me ashore.

In a moment the Commander joined us.

"Push on inland, boys," he whispered, as calmly as anything, "the boat is all right." And we forced and squeezed our way through the clinging bushes and undergrowth, going in single file and keeping close together so as not to lose one another in the darkness.

Presently we burst through to a clear space, and our feet trod on hard ground.

"A path!" the Commander said, and struck softly across it.

Then we came to more thick bushes and briars, ran up against some stumpy trees with rocks in between them, and found ourselves climbing upwards.

In a minute we had to climb hand over hand, very steep it was, and I thought we should never stop, and the noise we made seemed prodigious.

The light of the camp-fire appeared once again. We halted, and could see the two men still listlessly standing over it. They had not heard us yet, and we scrambled upwards till the light was once more shut out from us.

At last we clambered on to what seemed to be a little ledge among the rocks. I could go no farther, and fell down in a heap.

We lay down on this ledge, huddled close together for warmth, till gradually and slowly the darkness diminished.

First we could distinguish one another's faces and the long grass we were lying in, the thick bushes in front of us, and rock and more bushes behind and on each side.

Gradually we could make out the cold surface of the water below us, and presently, right away over the harbour, some ship struck four bells (six o'clock), another and another repeated, and we could hear the shrill pipes as the hands were turned out,[#] probably on board the pirate cruisers.

[#] Men turned out of their hammocks by the Bos'n's pipe.

From across the water came the throbbing sound of a native gong, one solitary one at first, then two or three more, till it seemed as if hundreds were being beaten, the noise rising and falling till the whole harbour seemed to be filled with it.

Lights flared up as fires were lighted, and we knew that the pirate village was bestirring itself.

As the dawn approached we could realize our position. We were perched on a ledge some sixty feet up the steep face of a rocky uneven cliff, covered with thickset, dwarfed trees and gorse-like bushes, growing wherever they could find foothold.

Beneath us ran the path, along the water's edge, which we had crossed an hour before, and the overhanging tree which concealed the water-logged dinghy, and along whose branches we had scrambled ashore.

"If they don't spot the dinghy or the damage we did clambering up here," chuckled the Commander, "we shall be as safe as in a church, and simply have to lie snug till nightfall."

Then happened what I have recalled since with even more horror than the remainder of that day's dangers, and which absolutely seemed to freeze up the whole of my inside.

It was my own fault, you see, and very nearly placed us all in the most frightful danger.

By pushing aside a tussock of thick grass and looking down I could just see that path, and as it grew light enough to distinguish objects I saw something dark lying in the middle of it, right in the open. It seemed strangely familiar, and involuntarily I put my hand to my head. My cap was missing, and was lying there right in the path, a path well trodden down and evidently much used.