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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 11. "The Smoke's Lifting" |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. "THE SMOKE'S LIFTING" "Well done, _Seafowl_!" said the lieutenant, and the men gave a cheer which drew forth a "Silence!" from the officer. "You're holloaing before you're out of the wood, my lads," he said. "Ah, there they go again--nearer too. Those must be Mr Munday's or Mr Dempsey's men. Halt, and stand fast, my lads. Let's give them a chance to join, and then we can retire together. No doubt, Mr Murray, about the direction we ought to take." "No, sir," replied the midshipman, "and we are going to be quite out of our misery soon." "What do you mean, my lad?" "The smoke's lifting, sir." "To be sure, my lad, it is. A cool breeze too--no--yes, that's from the same direction as the _Seafowl's_ recall shot. If it had been from the forest we might have been stifled, after all." The signals given from time to time resulted in those who had fired coming before long within hail, and the men who now joined proved to be a conjunction of the second lieutenant's and boatswain's, who had met after a long estrangement in the smoke, and without the loss of a man. Then, as the smoke was borne back by the now increasing sea breeze, the general retreat became less painful. They could breathe more freely, and see their way through the burned forest in the direction of the anchored sloop. It was a terribly blackened and parched-up party, though, that struggled on over the still smoking and painfully heated earth. For they had no option, no choice of path. The forest that lay to left and right was too dense to be attempted. There were doubtless paths known to the natives, but they were invisible to the retreating force, which had to keep on its weary way over the widely stretching fire-devastated tract that but a few hours before had been for the most part mangrove thicket interspersed with palms. But the men trudged on with all the steady, stubborn determination of the British sailor, cheered now as they were by the sight of the great river right ahead, with the sloop of war well in view; and in place of bemoaning their fate or heeding their sufferings the scorched and hair-singed men were full of jocular remarks about each other's state. One of the first things observable was the fact that to a man all save the officers were bare-headed, the men's straw hats having suffered early in the struggle against the flames, while the caps of the officers were in such dismal plight that it was questionable as to whether it was worth while to retain them. Titely, the seaman who had been speared, was the butt of all his messmates, and the requests to him to show his wound were constant and all taken in good part; in fact, he seemed to revel in the joke. But there was another side which he showed to his young officer as, cheering at intervals, the party began to near the river edge and get glimpses of the boats waiting with a well-armed party to take them off to the sloop. "It's all werry fine, Mr Murray, sir," said Titely, "and I warn't going to flinch and holloa when one's poor mates wanted everything one could do to keep 'em in good heart; but I did get a good nick made in my shoulder, and the way it's been giving it to me all through this here red-hot march has been enough to make me sing out _chi-ike_ like a trod-upon dog." "My poor fellow!" whispered Murray sympathetically. "Then _you_ are in great pain?" "Well, yes, sir; pooty tidy." "But--" "Oh, don't you take no notice, sir. I ought to be carried." "Yes, of course! Yes, I'll tell Mr Anderson." "That you don't, sir! If you do I shall break down at once. Can't you see it's the boys' chaff as has kep' me going? Why, look at 'em, sir. Who's going to make a party of bearers? It's as much as the boys can do to carry theirselves. No, no; I shall last out now till I can get a drink of cool, fresh water. All I've had lately has been as hot as rum." "Hurray!" rang out again and again, and the poor fellows joined in the cheers, for they could see nothing but the welcome waiting for them, and feel nothing but the fact that they had gone to clear out the horrible hornets' nest with fire, and that the task had been splendidly done. _ |
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