The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo SaibHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
India -- History -- Mysore War, 1799 -- Fiction; Tipu Sultan, Fath 'Ali, Nawab of Mysore, 1753-1799 -- Juvenile fiction
"That is quite natural," the doctor said. "There is nothing so trying
as inactivity. I have no doubt that the sea air will quite set her up
again. It performs almost miracles on the homeward-bound passengers.
They come on board looking pale, and listless, and washed out; at the
end of a month at sea, they are different creatures altogether."
The purser had taken pains to seat Mrs. Holland, at table, next to a
person who would be a pleasant companion for her; and the lady she was
now talking to was the wife of a chaplain in the army. She had, a year
before, returned from India in the Madras, and he knew her to be a
kind and pleasant woman.
Dick did not care for his cabin mates. They were young fellows of
about eighteen years of age. One was a nephew of a Director of the
Company, the other the son of a high Indian official. They paid but
little attention to him, generally ignoring him altogether, and
conversing about things and people in India, in the tone of men to
whom such matters were quite familiar.
In three or four days, Dick became on good terms with the six
midshipmen the Madras carried. Two of them were younger than himself,
two somewhat older, while the others were nearly out of their time,
and hoped that this would be their last trip in the midshipmen's
berth. The four younger lads studied, two hours every morning, under
the second officer's instruction; and Dick took his place at the table
regularly with them.
Mathematics had been the only subject in which he had at all
distinguished himself at school, and he found himself able to give
satisfaction to Mr. Rawlinson, in his studies of navigation. After
this work was over, they had an hour's practical instruction by the
boatswain's mate, in knotting and splicing ropes, and in other similar
matters.
In a fortnight, he had learned the names and uses of what had, at
first, seemed to him the innumerable ropes; and long before that, had
accompanied one of the midshipmen aloft. On the first occasion that he
did so, two of the topmen followed him, with the intention of carrying
out the usual custom of lashing him to the ratlines, until he paid his
footing. Seeing them coming up, the midshipman laughed, and told Dick
what was in store for him.
The boy had been as awkward as most beginners in climbing the shrouds,
the looseness and give of the ratlines puzzling him; but he had, for
years, practised climbing ropes in the gymnasium at Shadwell, and was
confident in his power to do anything in that way. The consequence was
that, as soon as the sailors gained the top, where he and the
midshipman were standing, Dick seized one of the halliards and, with a
merry laugh, came down hand over hand. A minute later, he stood on the
deck.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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