CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
"MAN OVERBOARD."
It was a great relief to us all to find that our visit to the Chineseprison had not been noticed. We of course kept silence about it, noteven telling Mr Brooke, who was the most friendly of our officers, andwe had the satisfaction of finding that Ching obeyed our orders, andkept his peace.
I used to be rather sorry for him, his position being so solitary onboard. For he could not make himself at home with the sailors in theforecastle, and though as frank, good-hearted fellows as ever lived,they seemed to look upon him only in one way, that of being a butt fortheir sharp witticisms, an object upon whom they were to play practicaljokes.
Consequently I used often, when I found him standing alone by thebulwarks watching the shore, to edge up to him, and stop to talk; ourconversation being directed by me toward some little unpleasantry in theforecastle, which if he had complained about to the first lieutenant,there would have been a severe reprimand.
I remember one of these occasions, when Ching came flying up out of thehatch, followed by a roar of laughter, and as he reached the deck,_clang-clang_ went something against the sides of the hatch; but Chingpaid no heed, running forward till he was right up by the side of thebowsprit.
I followed quickly, feeling angry on the man's behalf.
"What's the matter?" I cried. "What have they been doing?"
"No know," he said rather pitifully, as he stood there trembling. "Donesomething. Thlow tin-kettle after."
"But what for? What were you doing?"
"Doing? fass 'sleep, dleam 'bout big fly come and bite leg. Jump up andlun. Then thlow kettle after."
"Here, let's look," I said; for as he shook his head there was the samehollow sound again, just like that made by a tin sheep-bell.
"Why, they've tied it to you," I said sharply.
"Tie to Ching flock? Don't matter. Not bess blue silkee."
"Here, let me see," I cried. "Turn round."
He turned sharply, and something banged against the bulwark.
"What a shame!" I cried. "They've tied the old canister to your tail."
"Tie canny all along Ching tow-chang?" he cried.
"Yes, and it's a rascally shame."
"Yes, allee lascally shame," he said, nodding his head. "Not hurtvelly. Only flighten velly much, makee lun fass."
"Stand still, and I'll soon have it off," I cried, whipping out myknife.
"No, no," he cried, dragging the long plait from my hand; "mightee cuttow-chang, and that velly dleadful. Take long time glow."
"Very well, then. I'll unfasten it, and show it to Mr Reardon."
"What for? make Mis' Leardon velly angly, scold jolly sailor boy. Thenthey not like Ching 'tall."
"But it's too bad; treating you just as if you were a dog."
"Jolly sailor boy tie tin-pot dog tow-chang? No. Mr Hellick makelaugh. Dog not got tow-chang."
"No," I said, trying very hard to get the pot off, "but dogs have gottails."
"Yes, got tails. Don't tellee, make no good. Didn't hurt Ching."
"But it's an insult to you," I said. "Any one would think they were apack of boys."
"Yes, jolly sailor boy. You no makee come off?"
"No," I said. "They've made a big hole through the bottom of thecanister, pushed the end of the tail--"
"Tow-chang."
"Well, tow-chang, if you like to call it so--through into the inside,and then hammered the tin back round it and made it as fast as fast.Here, I shall have to cut it, Ching."
"No, no," he cried, seizing the canister. "No cuttee piece oftow-chang."
"Then how are we to get it off?"
"Don't know, Mr Hellick; look velly bad?"
"Horrible--absurd; every one will laugh at you."
"Yes, velly bad. Ching put it in pocket."
"Oh, you're there, are you?" I cried, as Tom Jecks came cautiously ondeck. "I should have thought that a man of your years would have knownbetter than to help torment this poor Chinaman."
"Not velly poor," he whispered. "Ching got fancee shop. Plentyplize-money now."
"Didn't have nought to do with it," growled Tom Jecks.
"Then who did, sir?"
"Dunno, sir; some o' the boys. I was caulking till they wakened me wi'laughing."
"But you saw it done?"
"No, sir; it was all done aforehand. They'd turned his tail into abull-roarer, and if you was to swing it round now like a windmill, itwould make no end of a row."
"Silence, sir," I cried. "It's disgraceful."
"Lor', sir, they on'y meant it for a bit of a lark."
"Then they should lark among themselves, and not take advantage of apoor foreigner whom they ought to protect."
"Yes, sir, that's right enough. But he were asleep, and it didn't hurthim till one on 'em stuck a pin in his leg to waken him up."
"Ah!" I cried. "Who did?"
"Well, sir," said Tom Jecks. "Now you do puzzle me above a bit. It wasone o' the lads, because the pin must have gone into his leg, for hesqueaked out and then run up the ladder with the tin-pot banging aboutright and left, but who it was stuck that pin in, it were so dark that Icouldn't say."
"You mean that you won't say, Tom?"
"Well, sir, you're orficer, and I'm on'y AB, and I shan't contradictyou; have it that way if you like."
"I shall say no more, but we'll see what Mr Reardon says when he hearsabout it."
"Why, Mr Herrick, sir, yo' wouldn't go and tell upon the poor lads,would you? It were on'y a bit of a game, were it, Mr Ching?"
"No, only bit game," said the Chinaman.
"There, you hear, sir. There wasn't no bones broke."
"Hold your tongue, sir."
"Cert'n'y, sir."
"And come here."
Tom Jecks stepped forward obsequiously.
"Look, the tin sticks all round fast into the tail as if it were arabbit trap."
"Ay, sir, it do; and if I might say so, they managed it very cleverly."
"Cleverly?"
"Yes, sir. If I'd been doing it, I should on'y have thought of tying iton with a bit o' spun-yarn; but this here tin holds it wonderful tight."
"How are we to get it off?"
"Oh, I can soon get it off," cried Tom Jecks, who seemed to be imbuedwith the same notion as Alexander of old, who unsheathed his sword tocut the Gordian knot. For he hauled out his knife by the lanyard,opened the blade with his teeth, and took a step forward, but Ching heldthe canister behind him and dodged round me.
"Steady, my lad," growled Tom Jecks, "it arn't a operation. Stand by."
"No, no, no!" shrieked Ching.
"Steady, my lad, I'll soon have it off. I won't cut down to the bone."
"No, no!" cried Ching, who was excited and alarmed, and who now beganchattering in his own tongue, all _pang ang nong wong ong_, and a seriesof guttural sounds, while I could do nothing for laughing, but had tostand like a post for Ching to dodge behind.
"Why don't you stand by, messmate?" growled Tom Jecks. "You can't gothrough life with that there tin-kettle tied to your tail. Fust one assee yer will be calling, `Mad dog.'"
By this time the watch had come to see what was going on, and I nowbegan to feel sorry for the Chinaman.
"Here, Ching," I said. "Come down below."
But he was too much alarmed for the moment to listen to my words,expecting every moment as he was that some one would make a snatch athis tail, to obviate which accident he was now holding the canistertightly beneath his arm, and looking wildly round for a way to escape.
"Hadn't we better have it took off, sir?" said Tom Jecks, and there wasa roar of laughter. "Let's ketch him and take him to the doctor."
"No, no!" cried Ching, dodging round me again, for Tom Jecks, to thedelight of the others, made a snatch at him.
"You'll be a deal more comfortable, messmate--you know you will. Here,let's have it?"
Tom Jecks made another snatch at him, but
Ching avoided it, and to savehim from further annoyance I too made a snatch.
Poor fellow, interpreter though he was, he misinterpreted my intentions.He tore away from my grasp and made a rush forward, but several menwere coming in that direction, and he dashed back to find himself facedby Tom Jecks again. In his desperation he charged right at the sailor,lowering his head as he did so, and striking him with so much force thatTom Jecks went down sprawling, and Ching leaped over him.
There was no way open to him for escape, as it seemed, and he made arush for the side, leaped up, was on the bulwarks in an instant, andmade a snatch at the foremast shrouds as if to climb up into therigging, when either his foot slipped or his long loose cotton jacketcaught in something, I don't know how it was, but one moment I saw himstaggering, the next there was the terrible cry of "Man overboard"raised as I rushed toward the side, heard the splash, and got upon thebulwark in time to see the agitated water.
That was all.
It was rapidly getting dark, the tide was running swiftly seaward, andeven if the Chinaman could swim it seemed very doubtful whether he couldmaintain himself long, hampered as he was by his loose clinging clothes.
But at the raising of the cry, "Man overboard," there is not much timelost on board a man-of-war. A crew leaped into the boat; the falls wereseized; and in a minute the keel touched the water, and I found myself,as I stood on the bulwark holding on by a rope, called upon to directthose who had gone.
"Which way, sir? See him?"
I could only answer no, and then reply to Mr Reardon, who came uppanting.
"Who is it?" he cried. "Mr Herrick?"
"No, sir, I'm here," I shouted. "It's the interpreter."
"And what business had he up on the hammock-rail?" roared the lieutenantas he climbed up there himself. "Steady, my lads, he can't be far."
At that moment there was a flash, and a brilliant blue-light burst outon the surface of the black water, sending a glare all round from whereit floated on the trigger life-buoy, which had been detached and glidedaway astern, while directly after a second blue-light blazed out fromthe stern of the boat, showing the men dipping their oars lightly, andtwo forward and two astern shading their eyes and scanning the flashingand sparkling water.
"Can't you see him?" roared the lieutenant.
"No, sir."
We leaped downward, hurried right aft where the captain and the otherofficers were now gathered, and the orders were given for a second boatto be lowered and help to save the poor fellow.
"He ought to float, sir," said Mr Reardon in answer to some remark fromthe captain. "He's fat enough."
Then he began shouting orders to the men to row to and fro; and my heartsank as I vainly searched the lit-up water, for there was no sign of theunfortunate Chinaman.
"What a horrible ending to a practical joke!" I thought, and a bitterfeeling of disappointment assailed me, as I asked myself why I had notgone in the second boat to help save the poor fellow.
Perhaps it was vanity, but in those exciting moments I felt that if Ihad been there I might have seen him, for it never occurred to me that Ihad a far better chance of seeing him from my post of vantage high up onthat quarter-deck rail.
"See him yet?"
"No, sir!"--"No, sir!"
The first hail loudly from close by, the other from far away where theblue-lights shone.
"Bless my soul!" cried Mr Reardon, with an angry stamp. "I can'tunderstand it. He must have come up again."
"Unless his pockets were heavily laden," said the captain, going towhere Mr Reardon stood. "These men carry a great deal about them undertheir long loose clothes. Some heavy copper money, perhaps. A verylittle would be enough to keep a struggling man down."
"Ha!" ejaculated Mr Reardon, while I shivered at the idea of poor oldChing coming to so terrible an end.
"A glass here!" cried Mr Reardon, and one was handed up to him.
"Try the life-buoy," cried the captain.
"Bless me, sir, I was going to," retorted the lieutenant irritably; "butthe idiot who uses this glass ought to be turned out of the service forbeing short-sighted. I shall never get it to the right focus."
The captain gave a dry cough, and I turned round sharply, expecting tohear some angry exclamation.
"No," cried Mr Reardon, "he is not clinging to the life-buoy. Iwouldn't for anything that it should have happened. Poor fellow! Poorfellow!"
"Ay, poor fellow!" muttered Captain Thwaites. "Any use to lower anotherboat, Reardon?"
"No, sir, no," cried the lieutenant, "or I would have had one down.Ahoy there!" he roared. "Light another blue!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" came from far away, for the tide ran hissing by our sidesin full rush for the sea, and the third blue-light which blazed outlooked smaller and smaller, while those of the first boat and thelife-buoy began to show faint, and then all at once that on the buoyseemed to go out.
"That blue-light ought to have burned longer on the buoy," cried MrReardon.
"They've picked up the buoy and laid it across the bows of the boat,"said Mr Brooke, who was watching through his night-glass, and at thatmoment the light blazed out again like a star.
And still the halos shed by the lights grew fainter and fainter. Thenone light burned out, and the lieutenant stamped with anger, but therewas no cause for his irritation. Another flashed out directly.
The boats were too far away now for us to see much of what was going on,the heads of the men growing blurred, but we saw that they werezig-zagging across the tide, and we listened in vain for the hail andthe cheer that should accompany the words--
"Got him, sir!"
The buzz of conversation among the men, who clustered on deck, in theshrouds and tops, grew fainter, and I was thinking whether I was verymuch to blame, and if I could in any way have saved the poor fellow.Then I began thinking of the men in the forecastle, and their punishmentfor being the cause, in their boyish way of playing tricks, of the poorChinaman's death.
I wouldn't be Tom Jecks for all the world, I muttered, and then I turnedcold and shuddered, as the hope, faint though it was, of Ching beingpicked up went out like one of the lights that now disappeared; forCaptain Thwaites said sadly--
"I'm afraid we must recall the boats, Mr Reardon."
"Yes, sir," said the lieutenant in a husky voice. "I don't think anyone is to blame about the attempt to save the poor fellow, sir. Thelife-buoy was let go, and the boat lowered promptly; the dishipline ofthe men was good."
"Excellent, Mr Reardon. I have nothing to say there. It would havebeen better perhaps to have lowered down the second boat sooner. But Ithink we have done our best. Can you make them hear from thisdistance?"
"Yes, I think so; a voice will travel far over the smooth water on astill night like this. Shall I recall them?"
Captain Thwaites was silent for a full minute, and we all stood gazingaft at the faint stars on the black water, while to right and left werethose that were more dim and distant, being the paper lanterns of thehouse-boats moored a short distance from the bank.
Then the captain spoke again, and his words re-illumined the partinglight of hope which flashed up like an expiring flame.
"Do you think he has struck out straight for the shore?"
"He may have done so, sir," replied Mr Reardon, as we all stood in aknot together on the quarter-deck, "but he could never have reached it."
"Not in this mill-race of a tide!" said Captain Thwaites. "Recall theboats."
But Mr Reardon made no sign. He stood there gazing through thenight-glass for some moments, and the captain spoke again.
"Recall the boats, Mr Reardon."
"I beg your pardon, sir," said the lieutenant, with quite a start."Aloft there! Who's in the foretop?"
"Ay, ay, sir; Jecks, sir."
I shivered.
"Hail the boats to come back."
The man did not answer for a moment, and Mr Reardon made an angrygesture, but just then Tom Jecks, with his hands to his
mouth, sentforth a hoarse deep-toned roar.
Then there was a pause and a faintly-heard hail came from far away, thezig-zagging movement of the boats ceased, and we saw one of them, thatis to say one of the lights, glide slowly toward the other, till one wasapparently only a short distance in front, and the other following.
"Let me know when the boats come alongside, Mr Reardon," said thecaptain quietly.
"Yes, sir."
"And, by the way, I'll trouble you for my night-glass."
Mr Reardon gave a violent start.
"Your night-glass, sir?" he said.
"Yes, mine; you borrowed it."
The lieutenant handed the telescope without a word, and at another timewe should all have had to turn away to smother the desire to burst outlaughing, as we recalled the irritable remarks about the idiot to whomthe glass belonged, and the wretchedness of his eyesight, coupled withan opinion that he ought to be dismissed the service.
But it was not a time for mirth: we were all too sad, and Barkinscontented himself with whispering--
"I say, I'm jolly glad it wasn't I who said that. Don't the skippertake it coolly now? But he'll give old Dishy a talking-to for it whenhe gets him alone."
Mr Reardon's face was not visible to us, but we could see hismovements, which were, so to speak, fidgety, for he began to walk up anddown hastily, and once or twice I heard him mutter--
"How could I be such a fool?"
A dead chill had settled down upon the ship, and I felt as I stood thereas if eight or nine years had suddenly dropped away from me--that I wasa little child again, and that I should like to creep below somewhereout of sight, or sit down and cry and sob.
For it was such a horrible lesson to me of the nearness of death, and Ifelt as if it was impossible for it all to be true--that it must be someterrible dream.
And now for the first time it dawned upon me that I had a liking for thestrange, simple-hearted Chinaman, who had always shown himself to befrank, honest, and brave in our service. He had been comic andpeculiar, but always devoted to me as a faithful servant; and now, justtoo as I was joining in the mirth against him, instead of beingindignant on behalf of one who had been insulted by the men's horseplay,he was as it were snatched from life to death.
I was brought back to the present by a voice at my ear--
"Poor old Ching! I am sorry, Gnat."
"Yes, and so am I."
I had not seen my messmates all through the trouble, and now theyappeared close to me in the darkness in a way which made me start.
I turned to them, and I don't know how it was, but as we three stoodthere in the darkness, which was hardly relieved by a lantern here andthere, Barkins held out his hand and shook mine, holding it tightlywithout letting go. Directly after, Smith took my other hand to give ita warm, strong pressure; and then we three parted without a word more,Barkins going one way, Smith another, while I went to the stern rail andleaned my arms upon it, and then rested my chin upon my arms to gaze outover the rushing water at the two blue stars.
But they were not there now. They had burned out some time before, andI could see nothing, only take it for granted that the boats were beingslowly rowed back against the heavy tide, our anchor-lights acting astheir guide.
"Is it possible that they have found him after all?" I thought, and fora minute I was hopeful. But once more the hope died out, for I knewwell enough that if they had picked the poor fellow up they would havecheered.