Jack Archer: A Tale of the CrimeaHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
Jack Archer: A Tale of the Crimea
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Crimean War, 1853-1856 -- Juvenile fiction
Happily the storm did not increase in violence, and when morning broke
it was found that although many of the vessels had dragged their
anchors, and some damage had been done by collisions, none had gone
ashore. The knowledge, however, of how heavy a sea got up in a gale of
even moderate force, and how frightfully dangerous was the position of
the vessels, would, it might be thought, have served as a lesson, but
unhappily it did not do so. The naval officer who was in charge of the
harbor was obstinate, and again refused the request of the masters of
many of the transports that the shipping might all be allowed to enter
the harbor. He refused, and upon him is the responsibility of the
terrible loss of life which ensued. On the 14th the wind again began
to rise, and the sailors, as night came on, looked over the sea.
"We are going to have a bad night of it again," the officer in command
of the post said, as he gazed seaward. "It looks as wild a night as
ever I saw. Look how fast the scud is flying overhead. Last week's
gale was a stiff one, but, unless I'm mistaken, it will be nothing to
that which is upon us."
Louder and louder roared the wind, till men could scarce keep their
feet outside shelter. The tents shook and rocked. Men could hardly
hear each other's voices above the storm, and even in the darkness of
night the sheets of foam could be seen dashing up to the very walls of
the castle.
Jack Archer and Dick Hawtry, who with two other midshipmen occupied a
tent, sat listening awe-struck to the fury of the gale. There was a
gust fiercer than usual, accompanied by a crack like the sound of a
pistol, followed by a stifled shout.
"There's a tent down!" Hawtry exclaimed, "and I shouldn't wonder--"
He did not finish, for at the moment the pole of their own tent broke
asunder like a pipe, and in an instant the four were buried beneath
the folds of the canvas. With much shouting and laughter they
struggled to the entrance and made their way out. Half the tents were
already levelled to the ground, and ten minutes later not one remained
standing. The midshipmen crowded into the turf huts which some of the
officers had had erected. Scarcely had they entered, when there was
the boom of a heavy gun.
"I thought so," Dick Hawtry said. "There's the first of them. How many
more will there be before morning?"
The door opened, and a sailor put in his head.
"Gentlemen, the captain says you are to turn out. He's going to take a
party down to the castle with ropes."
In a few minutes a hundred men mustered, and moved down the hill. So
fierce was the gale that, during the squalls, it was impossible to
keep themselves on their feet, and all had to lie down till the fury
of the gust had passed. It was pitch dark, and they groped rather than
made their way along. Fast now, one after another, came the sound of
the signal guns.
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