Blue Jackets: The Log of the TeaserFenn, George Manville
General
Blue Jackets: The Log of the Teaser
Fenn, George Manville
Chinese -- Juvenile fiction; Sea stories
For some moments I could not believe it true, and I stood on the thwart
and gazed carefully round, scanning every fragment of the wreck in the
expectation of seeing some trick to deceive us--men lying flat with only
their faces above the surface of the water, and holding on by sweep or
bamboo with one hand. But in a very short time we were all certain that
not a living being was near; of the dead there were several, as we found
on rowing here and there. One, as he was turned over, seemed to be
perfectly uninjured, but the others displayed ghastly wounds in face,
neck, and breast, showing how horribly fierce had been the encounter in
which they had been engaged.
Satisfied at last that our task was at an end, the word was given, and
the men began to row back to the _Teaser_, which still lay so
transformed in appearance, as seen from a distance, that I was thinking
that it was no wonder that the pirates had been deceived, when one of
the men, forgetful of all the horrors through which we had passed, of
his wounded comrade, and the dangerous prisoners under his feet, burst
out into a merry fit of laughter.
"Say, lads," he cried, "we shall have a nice job to-morrow, to wash the
old girl's face."
The rest of the crew laughed in chorus, till the boatswain sternly bade
them give way.
"I doubt it," he said in a low voice to me. "I should say that the
captain will do a little more to make her less ship-shape, ready for the
next lot."
"But you don't think there are any more pirates, do you?"
"More!" he said, looking at me in surprise. "Why, my lad, the coast
swarms with them. We never hear a hundredth part of the attacks they
make. It is not only European vessels they seize, but anything that
comes in their way. It strikes me, Mr Herrick, that we have only just
begun what may turn out a very successful cruise."
Ten minutes later we were nearing the _Teaser_, and I saw the reason why
we could not see either of the other boats. They were swinging to the
davits, and we were therefore the last.
Just then Mr Reardon hailed us.
"How many men hurt?" he shouted between his hands.
"Only one, sir; Barr--coxswain."
"Badly?"
"Oh no, sir," shouted the sufferer. "Bit of a scrat on the back."
"How many prisoners?"
"Four, sir."
Then we were alongside, the boat was run up, and, after our wounded man
had been lifted out, I stepped on board, eager to know the result of the
action on the part of the other boats, and to learn this I went below,
and found Barkins alone.
"Well," I cried, "how many prisoners?"
"Round dozen," he cried.
"Any one hurt?"
"Round dozen."
"I know, twelve prisoners," I said impatiently. "I asked you how many
were hurt."
"And I told you, stupid," he replied, "a round dozen."
"What! a man wounded for every prisoner?"
"That's it; and we shouldn't have taken any, the beggars were game for
fighting to the last, if Mr Brooke hadn't given the word for them to be
knocked on the head first with the thick end of the oars."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account