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Blue Jackets; or, The Log of the Teaser, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 36. Rest And Refreshment |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. REST AND REFRESHMENT Ching it was, and the men sent up a cheer as out pursuers grappled the side of our boat, held on, and our messenger came on board smiling. "Velly muchee big job you catchee," he said. "Why, what fo' you lun along so fast?" "Why, Ching," cried Mr Brooke, "what does this mean?" "No get away. Muchee velly bad man. No get to boat. Allee fightee. Get 'nother boat, and come along." "You couldn't get on board us again?" "No; too many velly bad men. Plenty blead; plenty fish; plenty meat. Velly nice. All in boat. Velly long time catchee." Our men laid down the oars with a great deal of care and precision, as if it was important that they should not be a quarter of an inch wrong, and our coxswain doubled himself up to indulge in a good long comfortable chuckle, while I could not help whispering to the young lieutenant-- "I say, Mr Brooke, I wasn't very far wrong?" "No, my lad," he said, with a smile; "I give in. I was all prejudice against the poor fellow, but I was justified in a great deal that I said. Appearances were dead against him. There, I was too hasty." Meanwhile the stores Ching had bought had been transferred to our boat, and he had told us a little about his adventures--how, when he had made his purchases, he had returned to the landing-place and found the crowd gathering, and heard the men declaiming against the foreign devils who had stolen the boat they were using. The people were growing so much excited that he soon found it would be impossible for him to go off with his load to join us, and as soon as he heard the most prominent of the men shouting to us to come ashore, he felt that his first duty was to warn us not to. "Catchee allee. Takee off to plison. In plison velly hard get out again," he said, and then went on to tell us how he felt it would be best to hire a boat to come off to us from higher up the river, but in spite of all his efforts he could not get one and his stores on board till he saw the other boats push off to the attack; and then, when his men willingly tried to overtake us, urged on by promises of good pay, they had been mistaken by us for enemies. "But velly good boat, sail velly fast. You tink it Ching coming?" "No, of course not," I said. "No, not tink it Ching. Send boat 'way now? Ching go?" "No, no," said Mr Brooke eagerly. "You will stop with us." "You no velly closs with Ching now?" "Cross? No; very grateful." "You no tink Ching like velly bad man pilate?" "I think you a very good, faithful fellow," said Mr Brooke, and the Chinaman's face lit up. "Send boat 'way now?" "Stop; I must pay the men." Ching shook his head. "No, Ching pay. Velly clebby pay money. Two dollar pay men." He went back into the other boat, and, producing some money from up his sleeve, he settled with the men, who nodded, smiled, and, as soon as Ching had returned on board, were about to push off, when Mr Brooke stopped them. "Tell them we shall return the boat as soon as we have done with it." "Yes; no go steal boat. Plenty boat in steamy-ship. Tell them capen give dollar, eh?" "Yes, tell them that." "You likee other boat and men?" "Well, I don't know," said Mr Brooke, hesitating, as if he thought some use might be made of such a fast-sailing craft. "Ching askee." He entered into a short conversation with the boatmen, who smiled at first, then scowled, stamped, and gesticulated. Ching nodded and turned to us. "Say, go to big steamy-ship and Queen Victolia jolly sailor, but no to see pilate. 'Flaid cut off head." "Then they must go; send them off." The men laughed, nodded at us in the most friendly manner, then hoisted their sail and went back up the river. Then, provisions being served out, our lads sat eating and chatting, while our boat sped seaward towards where the two junks lay windbound not many miles away, or else waiting for some reason, one which Mr Brooke decided at last to be for reinforcements. "Yes," he said, as I sat munching away at some pleasantly sweet-tasted bread which Ching had brought on board, "depend upon it, we shall see boats or a small junk go out and join them by and by." It is curious how old tunes bring up old scenes. Most people say the same, but at the risk of being considered one who thinks too much of eating, I am going to say that nothing brings up old scenes to my memory more than particular kinds of food. For instance, there is a flat, square kind of gingerbread which we boys used to know as "parliament." I cannot ever see that without thinking of going to school on sunny mornings, and stopping by one particular ditch to bang the wasps with my school-bag, swung round by its string. It was only the seniors who sported a strap for their books; and in those days my legs, from the bottom of my drawers to the top of my white socks, were bare, and my unprotected knees in a state of chip, scale, and scar, from many tumbles on the gravelly path. Then, again, pancakes will bring up going round the stables and cowhouse in search of stray new-laid white eggs, which I bore off, greatly to the disgust of the great black cock, with the yellow saddle-hackles and the tall red serrated comb. Fish naturally bring up the carp in the muddy pond which we used to catch, and gloat over their golden glories; or the brazen small-scaled tench, with all the surroundings at Norwood, where the builder has run riot, and terraces and semi-detached villas--I hope well drained--cover the pool whence we used to drag forth miniature alligators with a worm. I could go on for pages about those recollections, but one more will suffice:--Sweet cakey bread always brings up Mother Crissell, who must have made a nice little independence by selling us boys that sweet cake dotted with currants, some of which were swollen out to an enormous size, and lay in little pits on the top. These currants we used to dig out as _bonnes bouches_ from the dark soft brown, but only to find them transformed into little bubbles of cindery lava, which crunched between the teeth. And so it was that, as I sat sailing along at the mouth of that swift, yellow, muddy Chinese river, munching the sweet cakey bread Ching had brought on board, and gazing from time to time at the geese we had shot and had no means of cooking, memory carried me back to Mother Crissell's shop, and that rather bun-faced old lady, who always wore a blue cotton gown covered with blue spots and of no particular shape, for the amiable old woman never seemed to have any waist. There was the inside of her place, and the old teapot on the chimney-piece, in which she deposited her money and whence she drew forth change. And then, in a moment, I seemed to be back in the great playground; then away on to the common, where we hunted for lizards amongst the furze, and got more pricks than reptiles. I saw, too, the big old horse-chestnuts round by the great square pond where you could never catch any fish, but always tried for them on account of the character it had of holding monsters, especially eels as big and round as your arm. I never knew any one catch a fish in that pond, but we did a deal of anticipation there, and watched the dragon-flies flit to and fro, and heard the rustle of they transparent wings. Splendid ones they were. First of all, there came early in the summer the thin-bodied ones, some of a steely-blue, some dark with clear wings, and with them those with the wings clouded with dark patches. Then came the large, short, flat-bodied, pointed-tailed fellows, some blue, some olive-green. Late in the season, affecting the damp spots of the common among the furze bushes more than the pond, came the largest long-bodied flies, which hawked to and fro over the same ground, and played havoc among their prey. You could hear the school-bell from there--the big one in the turret on the top of the great square brick mansion; and in imagination I saw that pond, and the dragon-flies, lizards, and furze, the shady finger-leaved chestnuts, and even heard that bell, while the sweet cakey bread lasted; and then I was back in the Chinese boat on the Chinese river, for Ching leaned over me with something in rice-paper. "You likee bit piecee flesh meat?" "What is it?" I said, looking hard at the rather tempting brown meat with its white fat. "Velly nice," he said. "Got pep' salt. Velly good." "Yes," I said; "but is it good? I mean something I should like to eat?" "Yes; loast lit' piggee; velly nice." He was quite right--it was; and after I had finished I went forward to see if I could get something to drink. Jecks was inspecting the big earthen vessel with a tin baler, and I appealed to him. "How is the water?" I said. "Well, sir, yer can't say quite well thankye, 'cause it arn't right colour yet, and it's got a sort o' fishing-boat flavour in it, as puts yer in mind o' Yarmouth market at herring time, but it ain't so pea-soupy as it were, and it might be worse. Try a tot, sir?" "Yes," I said; "I'm so thirsty, I must have a drop." He dipped the baler in carefully, and brought it out dripping. "Has anybody else drunk any?" I said. "Oh yes, sir, all on us; and I says to you as I says to them, you shut your eyes, sir, and think you've been eating bloaters, or codfish, or fried sole. Then tip it down quick, and you'll says it's lovely." "Ugh!" I ejaculated, as I looked down into the baler, "why, it looks like a dose of rhubarb." "Well, it do, sir, a little; but you're a spyling of it a deal by looking at it first. You shut your eyes, sir, as I said; me and my mates thought as it's good strong water with a deal o' what some people calls nootriment in it." "None for me, thank you," I said, handing back the tin. "Bring me some water, Mr Herrick, when you've done," said Mr Brooke from where he sat holding the tiller. "Yes, sir," I said; and, holding the baler to my lips, I took a hearty, hasty draught, for it was cool and refreshing to my dry mouth and throat, and, that done, I refilled the baler and took it aft. "Humph! rather muddy, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, smiling; "but one can't carry a filter about at a time like this." He tossed off the water without hesitation, gave one of the men the tin to take back, and then altered the course of the boat a little, so as to hug the shore. "We must not let the pirates suspect that we are following," he said. "What are we going to do, Mr Brooke?" I said. "You should never question your commanding-officer about his strategy," he replied, with a smile; and I was about to apologise, but he went on, "There's only one thing to do, my lad, keep them in sight, and I hope that at any time the _Teaser_ may appear. When she does, she will in all probability run by those junks without suspecting their nature, then we come in and let them know the truth." "But suppose the _Teaser_ does not come into sight?" "Then our task is clear enough. We must hang on to the track of the junks till we see where they go. Depend upon it, they have two or three rendezvous." "Think they have telescopes on board?" I said. "It is extremely doubtful; and if we keep Ching always well in sight, I don't suppose they will notice us. They will take us for a fishing-boat, that's all." By this time the sun was pouring down his beams with scorching violence, and we were glad to give up the tiller to one of the men, and get into the shelter of the cabin, just beyond which we found that Ching was busy at work plucking one of the geese. "Why are you doing that?" I asked. "Velly good to loast." "But we've got no fire." "Go 'shore, make fi', loast all, and come back on board." "Yes, it will be a good addition to our stock of provisions, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, smiling. "Your friend Ching is going to turn out a benefactor after all." _ |
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