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The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 37. Talking Like A Boy

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. TALKING LIKE A BOY

Perhaps it was nearly all weariness and the result of the excitement, but it may have been due to Uncle Paul's potion; at any rate Rodd went off fast asleep, and when he awoke it was to find Morny sitting by his cot. "Hullo!" he cried. "You here!"

"Yes, I am here," was the reply. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am all right. Have I been to sleep?"

"Well, yes, you have been to sleep," said Morny, smiling at him in a rather peculiar way.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Oh, I was only smiling at you."

"What, am I scratched and knocked about?"

"Oh, very slightly."

"But I say, I am so precious hungry. What time is it?"

"Just upon six. Some bells or another, as you call it."

"Get out! Why, it was seven o'clock this morning when I lay down to sleep after my bath; so how can it be six o'clock? You don't mean to say that it is six o'clock in the evening?"

"Indeed, but I do. You had better jump up, or it will soon be dark."

"What a nuisance! Why, I must have slept twelve hours."

"Oh, you think so, do you? Yes, a good deal more than that. I was getting quite alarmed about you, only your uncle said you were quite right and you were to have your sleep out."

"I say, look here," cried Rodd; "am I dreaming, or are you playing tricks? I am getting muddled over this. I lay down this morning, and as soon as my head was on the pillow I must have gone off fast asleep."

"Yes, but it was yesterday morning."

Rodd sat up quickly in his cot and screwed himself round to stare hard in his companion's face.

"Look here," he cried, "you are playing tricks!"

"Indeed I'm not! You've been sleeping for about a day and a half."

"Well!" cried Rodd, beginning to dress hurriedly. "But never mind. I will make up for it by not going to sleep for a whole day. Look here, you know what's been going on. Where are we? Going up farther so as to get a mooring-place?"

"We came up yesterday, miles higher up the river, and the brig's moored close by an open part of the shore. There, make haste and finish dressing and come and look."

The lad dressed himself probably more quickly than he had ever achieved the performance before in his life, and in the process he learned that his uncle and Captain Chubb were on board the brig with several of the men, the skipper superintending the moorings and the arranging of cables from the brig to a couple of great forest trees, with tackle so ordered that the vessel could be careened over to any extent desired, and that the next morning she was to be allowed to sink with the tide so as to be bedded in the mud and laid over until the bottom was so exposed that the carpenter and his mates could get to work.

As soon as Rodd had hurried on deck he found all as his companion had described, while he had just mastered these facts when there was the sharp report of a gun.

"What's that?" he cried.

"Oh, only your uncle having a shot at a crocodile. Both he and my father have been at it all day, sending bullets into them whenever a head appeared on the surface of the water."

"But I say, look here, Morny; why didn't this wake me?"

"Oh, you were shut up down here and too fast asleep."

"Then that would be uncle's dose," cried Rodd. "He must have given me too much. Why, he might have killed me."

"Oh no. I expect he knew too well what he was about. He seems to have kept off the fever."

"Fever, yes! Has anybody else got it?"

"No. Your men are quite well."

"But they didn't sleep as long as I have?" cried Rodd anxiously.

"Not quite; but they all had very long sleeps, and my father says that they would have been longer if their messmates had not disturbed them. Now then, you had better go back to your cabin again. The steward told me that he was keeping some breakfast ready for you to have at any time."

"Wait a bit," cried Rodd, and he hailed his uncle and Captain Chubb before having a good look round at their position, and finding that they were in a beautiful open reach of the river, with the forest overhanging the stream on one side, while on that where the brig was seated close in shore there were only a few scattered trees, and those of large size, for the main portion of the forest had retired back nearly a quarter of a mile.

The next morning, as arrangements had been made to begin work at daylight, Captain Chubb and certain of the men, including Joe Cross, had their breakfasts by lamplight, and were on board the brig long before the sun rose.

Then came a busy time, with everybody anxiously watching for the success of Captain Chubb's plans.

He took his place upon the brig with the schooner's carpenter, the two lads bargaining that they might stay too, and as the tide sank the brig, which had been hauled in close to the bank at high water, soon touched bottom, her keel settling down steadily into the mud, and in due time began to careen over more and more, her progress being governed by a couple of capstans that had been arranged upon the shore. This went on until long before low water she was lying so much over on her side away from the shore that the sail that had been used as a plaister, as Rodd called it, was slackened off, and one of the holes made by the cannon ball fully exposed to view.

Then followed a busy time, the carpenter and his mates stripping off the copper and using their saws hour after hour as long as the tide left the leak bare, while after working as long as was possible, pieces of new thin plank were temporarily nailed on over the now much-enlarged opening, which was carefully caulked and all made as secure as possible.

This done, the capstans were manned again, and with the rising tide the brig raised to her proper position, and secured for the night, but hauled in as close to the shore as was possible, with the consequence that though the water rose through the untouched leak considerably, it never reached so high within as the point it had occupied with the pumps hard at work.

It proved to be a much longer job than had been anticipated, though the men worked as hard as was possible while the tide was low.

But the time passed very pleasantly for Rodd and his uncle, for they took their stations on board the anchored schooner, firing at every crocodile that showed itself, the presence of the men at work upon the muddy exposed shore proving an irresistible attraction during the first part of the time. But so many had been sent writhing and lashing the water, to float down-stream, that at last they began to grow shy, and the sportsmen were enabled to direct some of their charges of small shot at specimens of beautiful birds that came within range, as well as at the abundant waterfowl--ducks and geese--that gathered morning and evening to feed, but often to become food for the hideous reptiles that lurked beneath the trees close in shore.

This latter sport proved highly welcome to the crews of both vessels, providing as it did a pleasant change of diet after so much salt provision, for very few fish were caught, consequent upon the way in which they were persecuted by the reptiles.

"I wish you would join in. I am sure you can shoot well," said Rodd; but Morny shook his head.

"No," he said; "my father is so anxious to see the brig repaired."

"Yes, I suppose so," said Rodd, "but that wouldn't make any difference. You can't help."

"No, I cannot help," replied the lad, "and I should like to be with you all the time, but I can't leave his side. It would seem so hard if I didn't stay with him to share his anxiety."

"Well, but you might have a few shots at the crocodiles. That's helping to protect the men who are at work."

"True," replied Morny, smiling. "But you two are such clever shots. You can do all that. Don't ask me again, please."

Rodd was silent.

But during the long dark evenings in that grand and solitary reach of the river, which looked as if it had never been visited by human beings before, there would have been most enjoyable times had not the Count seemed so preoccupied and thoughtful. Still it had become the custom that there should be a constant interchange of courtesies between the occupants of the two vessels, the sailors thoroughly fraternising, while their superiors alternately dined together upon schooner or brig, and a thorough rivalry sprang up between the English and French cooks as to who should provide the best meals for officers and men.

"I should like for us to make an excursion right up the river as far as we could go in the boats," said Rodd one evening, to his French companion. "Uncle wants to go."

"Then why don't you?" said Morny. "You have plenty of time," he added, with a sigh, "for the repairs go on very slowly. One of the leaks is not stopped yet."

"They are not going on slowly," retorted Rodd. "I talked to Captain Chubb about it, and he said the work must be thoroughly done, so as to make the brig as good as ever she was."

"Yes, they are doing it well," said Morny sadly.

"He said--" continued Rodd, with a laugh; and then he stopped short.

"Well, why don't you go on?"

"Oh, never mind. You wouldn't like it. You are sensitive, and it might hurt your feelings."

"I promise you it shall not. Tell me what the captain said."

"Well, he said he wasn't going to have any Frenchmen throw it in his teeth that he hadn't done his best because it was a French boat, and that he was taking more pains over it than he should have done if it had been ours."

Morny laughed.

"Oh yes," he said, "I know he is doing his best, and I wouldn't care, only my father is so anxious to get to sea again."

"Well, all in good time," cried Rodd. "They are fitting the copper sheathing on again, and to-morrow they will begin careening the brig over so as to get at the other side."

"Ha! Yes," said the French lad, with a sigh of satisfaction. "Well, you take your boat to-morrow, and plenty of men and ammunition, and go on a good long excursion."

"Shan't," said Rodd gruffly.

"But why not?"

"Aren't going without you."

"What nonsense! I'm busy. You are free."

"I am not. If we went away leaving you alone with a brig that won't swim, who knows what would happen? The crocs would send the news all up and down the river that we were gone away, and come on at you with a rush."

"That's absurd! You talk like a boy."

"Well, I am one. Yes, that is nonsense. But suppose a whole tribe of niggers came down out of the forest to attack you."

"They couldn't. You know yourself that the forest is impassable except to wild beasts."

"Well, then, perhaps they would come down, or up--yes, up; they wouldn't come down, and find you helpless, because we should meet them and come back to help you."

"We could fight," said Morny coolly, "and sink their canoes with the big guns."

"What, when they are fast lashed to one side, and your deck all of a slope? No, we are not going, so don't bother about it any more. Who knows but what there may be towns of savages right up inland, or up some other river farther along the coast? I dare say it's a beautiful country--and there, I won't hear another word. We are not going away to leave you in the lurch. Uncle said as much. He likes the Count too well."

Morny laughed merrily.

"Why," he said, "he's always quarrelling with my father and hurting his feelings by the way in which he speaks about our great Emperor."

"Stuff!" cried Rodd indignantly. "That's only Uncle Paul's way. He always talks like that when he gets on to politics. Why, I have a sham quarrel with him sometimes about Napoleon. I pretend that I admire him very much."

"Pretend!" cried Morny eagerly.

"Well, I tell uncle that he was a very great general and soldier."

"Yes, yes! Grand!" said the French lad, flushing.

"And that I shouldn't have wondered at all if he had conquered the whole world."

"Yes, yes!" cried Morny excitedly. "That was brave of you! And what did your uncle say?"

"Said I was a young scoundrel, and that if I wasn't so big, and that he disliked corporal punishment, he'd give me a good thrashing to bring me to my senses."

"And you--you--" cried Morny, grasping him by the arm, "what did you say to that?"

"Nothing at all. Only burst out laughing."

"Burst out laughing?"

"Yes, and then Uncle Paul would grunt out 'Humbug!' and we were good friends again."

The young Frenchman shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

"Ah, yes," he said. "Even those who worshipped him mock at the Emperor now that he is in misfortune--even you, Rodd. But I can forgive you, because you are English and the natural enemies of our great Emperor. But those of our countrymen--cowards and slaves--parasites of the new King. _Laches_! Cowards! But let us talk of something else. You make me like you, Rodd. You always did, and--"

"Ah-h-h! Getting on dangerous ground. Now look here; will you come with us shooting?"

"No. I have told you why."

"Well, I am horribly disappointed. But I like you for it all the more, Morny. You are a regular trump to your father."

"I!" cried the young man fiercely. "I play the trumpet to my father! Never! If I praise him it is all the truth, because he is so honest and brave and good."

"Why, what's the matter now?" cried Rodd in astonishment. "Oh, I see-- trump! You don't know all our English expressions yet. Where's your dictionary?"

"There was no such word in it that I do not understand," cried the lad.

"Then it isn't a good one," said Rodd merrily.

Explanations followed, and the two lads parted that evening, both eager for the coming of the following day and the attack that was to be made upon the second leak where the ball from the fort had made its exit on the other side nearer the keel. _

Read next: Chapter 38. A Proposed Adventure

Read previous: Chapter 36. The Doctor Prescribes

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