Begumbagh: A Tale of the Indian MutinyFenn, George Manville
History
Begumbagh: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny
Fenn, George Manville
British -- India -- Fiction; India -- History -- Fiction; India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
Higher and higher, covering my lip; but by a desperate effort I raised
myself a few inches, but only to go through the same agonies again, as
the water still crept up and up, slowly but surely, while in this my
last struggle my head touched the top timbers, the weed washed and swept
over it, and as I forced my fingers round the timber to which I clung,
my body floated in the water.
Another minute, and I felt that all was over, for the water covered my
face once, twice; and half strangled, I waited gasping for the third
time; but it came not. Half a minute passed, and then again it washed
over my face, seeming as if it would never leave it; but at last it was
gone, and too unnerved to hope, I awaited its return, but it came not.
I dared not hope yet, till I felt that the water was perceptibly lower,
and then the reaction was so fearful that I could hardly retain my hold
till the tide had sunk so that once more I could stand, when my shouts
for help brought assistance to me through the gowt, for they lowered
down a little skiff with ropes, and I was brought out as nearly dead as
my poor companion.
That night's work sprinkled my hair with grey, and was my last
experience with the smuggling business. The loss was heavy; but I had
escaped with life, while poor Hodson was followed to the grave by some
score the following Sunday.
STORY FOUR, CHAPTER ONE.
A FIGHT WITH A STORM.
I got first to be mate when quite a youngish fellow; the owners were
told somehow or other that I'd worked hard on the last voyage, and they
made me mate of the ship, and gave me a good silver watch and chain; a
watch that went to the bottom of the sea five years after in a wreck off
the Irish coast, by Wexford, when I and six more swam ashore, saving our
lives, and thankful for them. For the sea swallows up a wonderful store
of wealth every season; and it meant to have our ship, too, that year I
was made mate, only we escaped it.
It happened like this. We were bound for Cadiz in a large, handsome,
new brig, having on board a rich cargo; for besides a heavy value in
gold, we had a lot of valuable new machinery, that had been made for the
Spanish government by one of our large manufacturers somewhere inland.
But besides this, there was a vast quantity of iron, in long, heavy,
cast pillars. A huge weight they were, and we all shook our heads at
them as they were lowered down into the hold, for we thought of what a
nice cargo they would turn out, if we should have a heavy passage. We
had about a score of passengers, too, and amongst them was a fine
gentlemanly fellow, going out with his wife, and he was to superintend
the fitting up of the machinery, several of the other passengers being
his men.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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