The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great CanalBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
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The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
Panama Canal (Panama) -- Juvenile fiction
For the past five minutes not a shot had left the rifles of his
comrades, though an occasional ball came from the deck of the steamer.
It was remarkable that the rascal there made no attempt to use his
revolver; but perhaps he had run out of ammunition, and in any case the
management of the craft occupied all his attention. As to the men under
Jim's command, all wore a grim determined expression. Even Ching seemed
to take some definite interest in the adventure, and, though one could
not be quite sure of the matter, those slanting, almond eyes bore just
the merest trace of anxiety. Otherwise, there was tense excitement on
board, for by now each man had realized the nature of the manoeuvre
about to be attempted, and the narrow margin which must necessarily lie
between themselves and safety. It was Tomkins who put in an encouraging
word.
"Jest you get in at it, pard," he said, moistening the palms of his
hands preparatory to gripping his rifle. "You ain't got no cause to fear
that we won't fight. When the ruction comes you can count on us, every
blessed mother's son of us; and, see here, siree, ef you don't happen to
bring off this trick, and there's a chance of them chaps driving us up
into a corner, jest round her and go baldheaded for 'em. I'm getting
sick of this here runnin'."
His two comrades nodded curtly to show that this statement met with
their full approval, while Tom, the noble fellow, who always seemed to
carry his young master's interests uppermost in his mind, stepped across
to the rear edge of the cab and leaned over towards the motor.
"We ain't gwine to knuckle down to dem black niggers," he said in a
voice which was meant to be a confidential whisper, but which as an
actual fact was a deep-chested roar that wellnigh drowned the noise of
the engine. "Yo ain't got no cause to fear, 'cos this here boy and all
de odders wants to get back right along home again. We ain't a-goin' to
let scum like this stan' in de way. Nebber. We's gwine to do as we
wants. Sam, jest see that you're nippy."
Tom gave his master one of his most expansive smiles; then, as if to
relieve his overwrought feelings, he swung round and glowered upon the
harmless but extremely energetic Sam. Indeed, if the fortunes of the day
were due to some extent to those who had wielded rifles, they were none
the less the work of Jim and Sam and Ching between them, while at this
very critical moment they may rightly be said to have rested in the
hands of our hero and the little negro only.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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