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Fitz the Filibuster, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 42. The Camel's Demand |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY TWO. THE CAMEL'S DEMAND The nets were soon mended and the slack places hauled up taut, while the _Teal's_ crew sauntered about the deck, waiting patiently for the next attack, and compared notes about the slight injuries they had received. Meanwhile the skipper and mate were anxiously on the alert for what might happen next. "I want to know what they mean, Burgess," the lads heard the skipper say. "They'll never put up with such a rebuff as this." "Oh, I don't know," growled Burgess. "The officers wouldn't, of course, but they'll never get those swabs to face us for another bout." "What do you think, then? That they will go back for fresh boats' crews?" "That's somewhere about it, or some stinkpots to heave aboard, or maybe, if they have got one, for a barge or pinnace with a boat's gun." "Possibly," said the skipper, and Poole gave Fitz a nudge with his elbow as if to ask, Did you hear that?--a quite unnecessary performance, for Fitz had drunk in every word. "Yes," continued the skipper; "they'll be after something or another. Don Cousin is bound to take us by some means, and we must be on the look-out for a surprise. Can we wait till dark and slip out to sea again?" "No," said the mate abruptly; "I want broad daylight for anything like that. I couldn't take the schooner a quarter of a mile in the dark without getting her on the rocks." "I suppose not," said the skipper; "and I suppose it's no use to try and get higher up the stream?" "Not a bit," replied the mate. "The boats would follow us anywhere. I am very sorry. I've brought you into a regular trap, and there's only one way out, and the gunboat's sitting on it. But under the circumstances there was nothing else to be done. How I do hate these tea-kettles! But one must look the plain truth in the face. They can go anywhere, and we, who depend upon our sails, can't." "That's all true enough," said the skipper, "but it doesn't better our position. What I want to know is, how things are going on lower down. Now, if you lads, or one of you," he continued, turning to the boys, "could shin up that high cliff yonder you could see the boats and the gunboat too, and make signals to us so that we might know what to expect." "All right, father," said Poole sharply, and he glanced at Fitz as he spoke; "have me landed in the dinghy, and I'll go up and see." Fitz looked at the speaker, and his eyes said, "All right, I'll come with you;" but the skipper made no answer for a time, but stood shading his eyes and sweeping the face of the cliff, before dropping his hand and saying-- "How would you do it, my lad?" "Oh, by climbing up, father, a bit at a time, getting hold of the bushes and hauling oneself up sometimes." "Ah," said the skipper quietly. "You would be very clever if you did. It might be managed for a little way up, but all that upper part isn't perpendicular; it hangs right over towards us. Impossible, my lad. Nothing could get up there but a bird or a fly. We must give up that idea. Burgess, you will have to lower a boat and let her drift down to the headland there, stern on, and with the men ready to pull for their lives, as you may be fired at. When you get to the head you must let her slide along close under the bushes till you get a sight of the boats and see what they're doing." "Right," said the mate. "Now?" "Yes; the sooner the better." Poole glanced at Fitz, and then started to speak to his father; but before he could open his lips there was an emphatic-- "No! You would only be in the way, my lads. I want four strong men to row, and one in the stern to look out; and that one is Mr Burgess." "Very well, father," said the lad quietly, but he looked his disappointment at Fitz, whose vexation was plainly marked on his countenance, as he mentally said, "Oh, bother! He might have let us go." Things were done promptly on board the _Teal_, and in a few moments the cutter was lowered down with its little crew after the netting had been cast loose and raised; and then they watched her glide down with the stream, stern on, with the rowers balancing their oars, the stroke dipping his now and then to keep her head to stream, and the mate standing with his back to them till the headland was reached, when he knelt down, caught at the overhanging bushes and water-plants, and let the boat drift close in and on and on without making a sign, till she disappeared. Just then Fitz heaved a sigh. "What's the matter, old chap?" said Poole. "Oh, we shall have nothing to do but wait now, perhaps for hours, for I expect the enemy has gone right back to the gunboat, and waiting is a thing I do thoroughly hate. Eh? Is that you, Camel?" "Andy Cawmell it is, sir. A'm thenking that it would be joost a good time for a wee bit food. Ah've been watching Mr Burnett here, and the puir laddie looks quite white and faint. Would you mind telling the skipper that I've got a wee bit hot dinner a' ready? and if he will gi'e the word I'll have it in the cabin in less time than Duncan Made-Hose took his pinch of sneeshin." "Well done, Camel!" cried Poole, who darted to his father, leaving the cook blinking and smiling at Fitz, who looked at him in admiration. "Why, Camel," he said, "you are a deal too clever for a ship's cook, and I don't know what I owe you for all you have done for me." "Oh, joost naething at all, laddie." "Nothing! I want to make you a big present when I can." "You do, laddie? Vairy weel, and I'll tell you what I'd like. Ye'll just gi'e me one of them quarter-poond tins of Glasgie sneeshin." "Snuff!" said Poole contemptuously. "Ay, laddie; snuff, as ye call it. Nay, don't turn your nose up at sneeshin. Ye should turn it down. Thenk of what it is to a man condemned to get naething but a bit of dirty black pigtail tobaccy that he has to chew like the lads do in their barbarous way. Ye'll mind that: a four-ounce tin of the rale Glasgie." "Oh, but--" "Nay, nay, laddie. That'll make us square. Now then, what's the young skipper got to say?" "The sooner the better, Camel, for he's half-starved; but you are to keep a bit hot for Mr Burgess." "Ou, ay," said the Camel, smiling. "I never forget the mate. He wadna let me if I would." The two lads watched anxiously for the return of the boat, but in vain, and then, in answer to the summons, went reluctantly below as far as their minds were concerned, but with wondrous willingness on the part of their bodies, to join the skipper over a capital meal, which was hastily discussed, and then the trio went on deck to where the men were keeping watch, and ordered them to go below. "Get your dinner, lads, as quickly as you can, and then come up again. We'll keep watch until you do." They took their places aft at once, and the watch began, lasting till, headed by the boatswain, the men hurried up again, looking inquiringly in the faces of those they relieved; but they looked in vain, for nothing had been seen of the cutter, and quite an hour had passed when she came round the bend, being rowed swiftly, for the mate to hail the skipper and make the announcement-- "They have gone right back to the gunboat, and I waited till they were run up to the davits, and then came back. Is there anything we can have to eat?" _ |
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