Dogs -- Fiction; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
As soon as Van Spitter had arrived at the gun, he laid down his charge,
who neither moved nor spoke. He appeared to have resigned himself to
the fate which awaited him, and made no resistance when he was stripped
by one of the marines, and stretched over the gun. The men, who were on
deck, said nothing; they looked at each other expressively as the
preparations were made. Flogging a lad like Smallbones was too usual an
occurrence to excite surprise, and to show their disgust would have been
dangerous. Smallbones' back was now bared, and miserable was the
spectacle; the shoulder-blades protruded, so that you might put your
hand sideways under the scapula, and every bone of the vertebrae and
every process was clearly defined through the skin of the poor skeleton.
The punishment commenced, and the lad received his three dozen without
a murmur, the measured sound of the lash only being broken in upon by
the baying of Snarleyyow, who occasionally would have flown at the
victim, had he not been kept off by one of the marines. During the
punishment, Mr Vanslyperken walked the deck, and turned and turned
again as before.
Smallbones was then cast loose by the corporal, who was twirling up his
cat, when Snarleyyow, whom the marine had not watched, ran up to the
lad, and inflicted a severe bite. Smallbones, who appeared, at the
moment, to be faint and lifeless--not having risen from his knees after
the marine had thrown his shirt over him, roused by this new attack,
appeared to spring into life and energy; he jumped up, uttered a savage
yell, and to the astonishment of everybody, threw himself upon the dog
as he retreated, and holding him fast with his naked arms, met the
animal with his own weapons, attacking him with a frenzied resolution
with his teeth. Everybody started back at this unusual conflict, and no
one interfered.
Long was the struggle; and such was the savage energy of the lad, that
he bit and held on with the tenacity of a bulldog, tearing the lips of
the animal, his ears, and burying his face in the dog's throat, as his
teeth were firmly fixed on his windpipe. The dog could not escape, for
Smallbones held him like a vice. At last, the dog appeared to have the
advantage, for as they rolled over and over, he caught the lad by the
side of the neck; but Smallbones recovered himself, and getting the foot
of Snarleyyow between his teeth, the dog threw up his head and howled
for succour. Mr Vanslyperken rushed to his assistance, and struck
Smallbones a heavy blow on the head with his speaking trumpet, which
stunned him, and he let go his hold.
Short, who had come on deck, perceiving this, and that the dog was about
to resume the attack, saluted Snarleyyow with a kick on his side, which
threw him down the hatchway, which was about three yards off from where
the dog was at the time.
"How dare you strike my dog, Mr Short?" cried Vanslyperken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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