A Middy of the King: A Romance of the Old British NavyCollingwood, Harry
General
A Middy of the King: A Romance of the Old British Navy
Collingwood, Harry
Great Britain -- Fiction; Pirates -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
_Crack_! One of the pirates, crouching behind another, had coolly
levelled his musket and taken a pot shot at me, the bullet passing
through my hat and searing my skull like a white-hot wire, so that I
toppled over with the shock and fell back into the arms of one of my
men. The yell of savage joy raised by the pirates at the sight of my
fall was echoed by my own men as they sprang to their feet, intending to
leap over the low parapet and charge down upon the advancing foe to
avenge me. But I was not really hurt, and, shaking off the grip of the
man who held me, I cried out in time to stay them, adjuring them, by all
that they held dear, to stand fast where they were, and finish the fight
in the battery itself. And splendidly they obeyed me, although they
might well have been excused had they ignored my command; for the firing
of that musket-shot served as the signal for a general fusillade on both
sides, in the course of which four of our men fell. But ours was the
commanding position, and by the time that the pirates had emptied their
muskets and pistols at us we had brought them to a standstill, with more
than half their number down. After that there was no possibility of
further restraining our lads, nor, indeed, was there any need. We,
therefore, poured out over the low earthwork and down the few yards of
slope that still intervened between us and the enemy, and the next
moment were engaged in a hand-to-hand, life-and-death conflict, neither
side expecting or giving quarter. For the few seconds that it lasted it
was warm work, the pirates fighting desperately--since they knew that,
if taken alive, the halter awaited them--and then, in the space of a
minute it was all over. The last of our foes was down--as well as a few
more men on our own side--and we who remained unhurt stood gasping for
breath, and mopping our perspiring brows as we glared hungrily about us
for more foes to conquer. But there were none; and presently pulling
ourselves together, we gathered up our own wounded and carried them to
such shade as could be found, where the surgeon's mate, who formed one
of our company, at once got to work upon them, attending to their hurts.
Meanwhile the ensign was hoisted as a signal to the felucca to return
to the harbour; and then such of us as could be spared went out to
disarm the wounded pirates and afterwards afford them such relief as lay
in our power, while others again gleaned the weapons and ammunition of
the fallen, recognising that they might possibly be useful in our fight
with the crew of the _Tiburon_ later on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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