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
The captain came out of his cabin soon after, with cocked hat and gold
lace glistening, and away we went for the shore soon after; the last
things I saw on the _Teaser_ being the two disconsolate faces of my
messmates at the cabin window, and Ching perched up on the hammock-rail
watching our departure.
I anticipated plenty of excitement that day, but was doomed to
disappointment. I thought I should go with the escort to the mandarin's
palace, but Mr Brooke was considered to be more attractive, I suppose,
and I had the mortification of seeing the captain and his escort of
marines and Jacks land, while I had to stay with the boat-keepers to
broil in the sunshine and make the best of it, watching the busy traffic
on the great river.
Distance lends enchantment to the view of a Chinese city undoubtedly,
and before long we were quite satiated with the narrow limits of our
close-in view, as well as with the near presence of the crowd of
rough-looking fellows who hung about and stared, as I thought, rather
contemptuously at the junior officer in Her Majesty's service, who was
feeling the thwarts of the boat and the hilt of his dirk most
uncomfortably hot.
"Like me to go ashore, sir, to that Chinesy sweetstuff shop, to get you
one o' their sweet cool drinks, sir?" said one of the men, after we had
sat there roasting for some time.
"No, thank you, Tom Jecks," I said, in as sarcastic a tone as I could
assume. "Mr Barkins says you are such a forgetful fellow, and you
mightn't come back before the captain."
There was a low chuckling laugh at this, and then came a loud rap.
"What's that?" I said sharply.
"This here, sir," said another of the men. "Some 'un's been kind enough
to send it. Shall I give it him back?"
"No, no!" I cried, looking uneasily shoreward; and at that moment a
stone, as large as the one previously sent, struck me a sharp blow on
the leg.
"They're a-making cockshies of us, sir," said Tom Jecks; "better let two
of us go ashore and chivvy 'em off."
"Sit still, man, and--"
_Whop_!
"Oh, scissors!" cried a sailor; "who's to sit still, sir, when he gets a
squad on the back like that? Why, I shall have a bruise as big as a
hen's egg."
"Oars! push off!" I said shortly, as half-a-dozen stones came rattling
into the boat; and as we began to move away from the wharf quite a burst
of triumphant yells accompanied a shower of stones and refuse.
"That's their way o' showing how werry much obliged they are to us for
sinking the pirates," growled Tom Jecks. "Oh, don't I wish we had
orders to bombard this blessed town! Go it! That didn't hit you, did
it, sir?"
"No, it only brushed my cap," I said, as the stones began to come more
thickly, and the shouting told of the keen delight the mob enjoyed in
making the English retreat. "Pull away, my lads, and throw the grapnel
over as soon as we are out of reach."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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