One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for IndiaStrang, Herbert
History
One of Clive's Heroes: A Story of the Fight for India
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; British -- India -- Juvenile fiction; India -- History -- 18th century -- Juvenile fiction
One thing puzzled him. If the Pirate was such a terror to unprotected
ships, and strong enough to attack several armed vessels at once, why
was Captain Barker running into the very jaws of the enemy? In her
palmy days as an East Indiaman the _Good Intent_ had carried a dozen
nine pounders on her upper deck and six on the quarter-deck; and Bulger
had said that under a stout captain she had once beaten off near Surat
half a dozen three-masted grabs and a score of gallivats from the pirate
stronghold at Gheria. But now she had only half a dozen guns all told,
and even had she possessed the full armament there were not men enough
to work them, for her complement of forty men was only half what it had
been when she sailed under the Company’s flag.
Desmond confided his puzzlement to Bulger. The seaman laughed.
"Why, bless ’ee, we en’t a-goin’ to run into no danger. Trust Cap’n
Barker for that. You en’t supercargo, to be sure; but who do you think
them guns and round shots in the hold be for? Why, the Pirate himself.
And he’ll pay a good price for ’em too."
"Do you mean to say that English merchants supply Angria with weapons to
fight against their own countrymen?"
"Well, blest if you en’t a’ innocent. In course they do. The guns en’t
always fust-class metal, to be sure; but what’s the odds? The
interlopers ha’ got to live."
"I don’t call that right. It’s not patriotic."
"Patry what?"
"Patriotic--a right way of thinking of one’s own country. An Englishman
isn’t worth the name who helps England’s enemies."
Bulger looked at him in amazement. The idea of patriotism was evidently
new to him.
"I’ll have to put that there notion in my pipe and smoke it," he said.
"I’d fight any mounseer, or Dutchman, or Portuguee as soon as look at
him, ’tis on’y natural; but if a mounseer likes to give me twopence for
a thing what’s worth a penny--why, I’ll say thank ’ee and ax
him--leastways if there’s any matey by as knows the lingo--to buy
another."
Shortly after dawn next morning the look-out reported four vessels to
windward. From their appearance Captain Barker at once concluded that
two were Company’s ships, with an escort of a couple of grabs. As he
was still scanning them he was joined by Diggle, with whom he entered
into conversation.
"They’re making for Bombay, I reckon," said the captain.
"I take it we don’t wish to come to close quarters with them, Barker?"
"By thunder, no! But if we hold our present course we’re bound to pass
within hailing distance. Better put ’em off the scent."
He altered the vessel’s course a point or two with the object of passing
to windward of the strangers, as if steering for the Portuguese port of
Goa.
"They’re running up their colours," remarked Diggle half an hour later.
"British, as I thought. We’ll hoist Portuguese."
A minute or two later a puff of smoke was observed to sally from the
larger of the two grabs, followed in a few seconds by the boom of the
gun.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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