Mother Carey's Chicken Part 28

"Capital, my lad," said the major. "But, no; risky."

"They could not hit me, sir," cried Mark; "and it's like taking no notice of my father's signals to do nothing."

"I think he might risk it, major," said Gregory.

"All right, then, my lad. Go on."

Mark started, and after a struggle reached an enormous panda.n.u.s, one of the many-branched screw-pines. It was not a very suitable tree for a signal staff, and there were cocoa palms and others of a far more appropriate kind, but these were unclimbable without notches being prepared for the feet, whereas the panda.n.u.s offered better facility.

Still it was no easy task, and it was made the more difficult by the fact that the Malays began firing at him with their bra.s.s gun, a fact enough to startle the strongest nerves.

But Mark recalled for his own encouragement the fact that the major had laughingly announced the spot at which the enemy aimed as being the safest, and so he climbed on till about thirty feet above the ground he managed to attach the major's great yellow handkerchief, so that it hung out broadly, and then came down.

Four shots were fired at him as he performed this feat, and on rejoining the major and Mr Gregory, the former laughingly said that not a shot had gone within fifty yards of him.

"But I tell you what," he continued, "that's a bad signal--the yellow flag; they'll think we have got fever."

"So we have, sir," said Morgan grimly--"war fever."

"Look!" cried Mr Gregory; "they see the flag signal, and are answering it. Do you see?"

It was plain enough; two flags were held out of the cabin-window, and after being waved withdrawn.

"Yes," said the major, "it's mighty pretty, but there's one drawback-- one don't know what it means."

The firing from the lelah was kept up at intervals, but every shot went over them, whether fired point-blank or made to ricochet from the sands.

There was tremendous bustle and excitement on board the prau, but no fresh attempts were made to land, and as the long, hot, weary hours crept on the question rose as to what would be the enemy's next move.

"They'll wait till dusk and attack us then," said Mr Gregory.

"No," said the major, "I think not. These people never seem to me to be fond of night work. I think they'll wait till the tide rises and then go back."

"Without destroying our boat?" said Morgan.

"Yes, my lad. It's bad warfare to leave an enemy behind; but you'll see that is what they'll do."

The major proved to be right, for after a time the prau began to move slowly round, and they saw it go back leisurely, the great sweeps dipping in the calm blue sea and an ever-widening line left behind.

"That's one to us, my lads," said the major, "and next time it's our play."

The men gave a cheer, and Small rose and came forward.

"Lads says, sir," he began respectfully, "that if it were all the same to you they'd like me to pipe down to dinner."

"Of course," said Gregory. "Where are the provisions?"

"Well, you see, sir, when we all come running down, the bags o' wittles was chucked away in the jungo--in the wood, sir."

"Then a couple of men must go after it--those who threw it away."

"Well, sir, seeing as it were me and Billy Widgeon, we'll go arter it, if you like."

The necessary permission was given, the two men departed, and at the end of an hour returned to find their companions still watching the praus, which were both made fast to the s.h.i.+p.

"Thought as the crockydiles had been at it, sir," said Small grimly; "but we found it at last. I've brought Billy Widgeon back safe."

"Of course," said the mate quietly. "Why not?"

"Well, you see, sir, there was one crock took a fancy to him, and we see another lying on the edge of the pool, smiling at him with his mouth wide open; but Billy wouldn't stop, and here's the prog."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

HOW THE CREW OF THE "BLACK PETREL" WERE IN SORE STRAITS.

The supply of food, supplemented by the bottles of beer, which were equitably distributed so as to give all the men a tiny cup or two, had a wonderful effect upon their spirits, so that the rest of the afternoon was pa.s.sed waiting patiently for the night, the sailors expressing themselves as willing to do whatever their leaders bade.

Billy Widgeon was the spokesman, Small occupying a sort of middle position between officers and men.

"We says, sir," he began, addressing the major--"I mean they says as we--I mean they ain't fighting men, never having 'llsted or gone in the ryle navy; but in a case like this they will--no, we will, for of course I ar'n't going to stand back--have no objection to a bit of a set-to so as to lick the n.i.g.g.e.rs. For if ever n.i.g.g.e.rs wanted licking it's n.i.g.g.e.rs as'll take advantage of a s.h.i.+p being in a calm, and part of her officers and crew away, and--and--here: what was I to say next, lads?"

Billy Widgeon had come to a stand-still, and had to appeal to his companions.

"That's about all," said one of the men. "I'd stow it now."

"Right, mate; I will," said Billy, who had recovered himself a little and was beginning to think of a great many more things he would like to say. "So we're ready, sir, whether it's fisties or pistols, and if Mr Gregory yonder and Mr Morgan--as we're werry sorry he's wounded--don't give no orders another way, we'll do as you wants us to, so what's it to be? Theer, that's all."

"Thank you, my lads, thank you," said the major quietly.

"Not much of a speech, were it?" said Billy to one of his forecastle mates.

"What, yourn?" said the man.

"Tchah! No! The major's."

"Didn't think much o' yourn anyhow," said the man.

"Why didn't you make one, then?" growled Billy fiercely.

"There, don't get up a quarrel, mate," said the man. "P'r'aps we shall all be trussed up like larks 'fore to-morrow morning; so let's be friends."

"Eight," said Billy, slapping his great palm into his companion's; and Mark smiled to himself as he thought how much these big men were like school-boys in spite of their years.

The evening drew near after what seemed to be an interminable s.p.a.ce of time, and to the great delight of Mr Gregory there was no change in the weather. There had been every probability of a breeze springing up at sundown, but the great orange globe had slowly rolled down and disappeared in the golden west, amidst the loud barking of the hornbills and the strident shrieks of flocks of parrots, and not a breath of wind was astir. Then came down the night, a purply black darkness spangled with stars overhead and reflected in the water, and with that darkness a hot intense silence.

"Finish your pipes, my lads," said the major, "and then we're going afloat once more."

The men replied with a cheery "Ay, ay, sir," and at once extinguished their pipes in token of their readiness; and soon after, in accordance with plans made by the three officers, Small a.s.sisting at their council, the boat was safely run down through the bushes, over the sand, and away into the calmly placid sea, which wavered from her touch in golden spangles, and then in silence all embarked, the rowlocks being m.u.f.fled with handkerchiefs and jacket sleeves.