Chapter Eight.
“The Sweets of Friendship.”
“How did you manage it, my boy?” panted out the instructor, out of breath by his rapid climb up the rigging to my aid, as I held on desperately to the shrouds, against which I pressed the body of my unconscious shipmate with my own, to prevent him from falling. “Lord! My lad, I thought you were both gone! Thank God, you saved him!”
But I could not tell him then, or after, how I contrived to catch ‘Ugly’ when he let go his hold; and to this very day, though it is pretty nearly six years or more agone, and many things have happened since even stranger, too, I put down the spontaneous act that prompted me to stretch out my hand in the nick of time and grip him by his waistbelt before it was too late, to the interposition of Providence—an intervention, indeed, not only on his behalf, but on my own, as subsequent events proved, though I will speak of this when the proper time comes.
The instructor, even in his hurry aloft to our assistance, had managed to snatch up on the way a coil of half-inch; and with this he now proceeded, breathing heavily the while from his exertions, to secure ‘Ugly’ temporarily to the ratlines until a whip could be rigged for sending down the still insensible fellow to the deck below.
This was a great relief to me, for it was as much as I could do to support his body, although, as I’ve said, I pressed him against the rigging, the chap weighing over ten stone at least, I should think, as he was a thickset yokel and inclined to be corpulent.
It all happened in a moment, though I seem to take so long telling about it; for, almost before the instructor could take a double turn with his half-inch round ‘Ugly’s’ body and the rigging, half-a-dozen seamen, who had been hailed by the officer of the watch, the grey-haired gunner, had footed it up the ratlines and were in the top fixing a whip and purchase, to which one of the hammocks had been attached.
In this impromptu cradle ‘Ugly’ was let down very carefully and taken to the sick-bay, where, as I was afterwards told, Mr Trimmens the sick-berth steward being my informant, it required the application of the galvanic battery to bring him to, the fright he had undergone, and consequent shock to his system, having been so great!
“You saved his life, though, my lad, let me tell you,” said the instructor to me, when we had followed the rescued boy down, and were again on the safe footing of the deck. “Why, Tom Bowling, that chap ought to be your friend for life after this.”
I could not help shrugging my shoulders, with a grin ‘on the left side of my mouth,’ as sailors say; for, of course, I could not very well explain matters anent our recent fight.
The instructor looked at me inquiringly; and, seeing he expected some sort of a reply from me, I said, “He’ll have to change very much, sir. He and I haven’t been very friendly up to now, sir.”
“Ah!” rejoined the instructor, “that don’t count, my boy. The dearest friend I have in the world at the present time was once my bitterest enemy. He and I fell out about some trifle or other on joining the same ship and never spoke a single word to each other throughout the whole commission, though we were up the Straits at the time, and saw some queer rigs there, I can tell you. We’ve often laughed over it together since, and thought what fools we were.”
“I don’t think, sir,” said I, “that Moses Reeks and I will ever be friends, so far as I can see.”
“Well, time will tell,” observed my good-natured adviser, who was a man like father, I saw, one always anxious to make the best of everything. “None of us ever know what will happen in this life, especially with sailor folk; and though you may think it difficult to ‘make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,’ for I can see, my lad, with half an eye that that unfortunate yokel is of a different stamp to you, still I’ve known stranger things occur. I wouldn’t mind betting, if I ever did such a thing, that one day you and he will be the fastest chums.”
“Perhaps, sir,” I answered, in a very doubting manner; and I couldn’t help adding, as I turned to go below to my dinner, if there should be any left for me, the other fellows having pretty well done by this time, “Some day, as father says, pigs may fly, sir!”
The instructor laughed.
“Your father, Tom Bowling,” said he, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder as I went down the after-hatchway, “must be a knowing hand; and I think, my lad, you take after him.”
It being ‘pea doo and bolliky’ day, my fast friend Mick, who, from his highly developed instincts in the grub line, had been elected cook of our mess on the lower deck, had saved me a good basin of soup and hunch of bread, with which I managed to assuage the cravings of my appetite, this having been accentuated not only by my long wait but by my exercise aloft.
“Begorrah, Tom,” said he, as he watched me tucking into the stuff with great complacency, while the rest of the fellows were cleaning up the mess-table and generally making things snug, “it’s as good as aitin’ onesilf fur to say how ye git outside that pay-soup. An ould play-acting chap I onst sayd a-swallerin’ knoives an’ sich loike onnatural stuff, worn’t a patch on ye, me hearty!”
I had, however, to make short work of my meal, for the ‘assembly’ just then sounded; and, after our usual parade again on deck, according to the routine, a part of our division went ashore to a large field between Blockhouse Fort and Haslar on the Gosport side of the water, belonging to the Saint Vincent, and which is used for drilling the boys in marching and small-arm instruction.
Some of the remainder of us were put to signalling on the upper deck, carrying on highly interesting dialogues with small flags that were waved to and fro between the bows and stern of the ship; but the major part of the division—I, much to my delight, being one of the number—practised all the afternoon at boat-pulling. In this my experience with father’s wherry during the last three or four years stood me in good stead; though I had some little difficulty at first in mastering the usual man-o’-war stroke with the long ash oars in the heavy launch which we pulled, the boat being double-banked.
The next day was the most exciting I had passed since I had been on board the ship, now over a week.
To begin with, it was ‘pay-day,’ the whole ship’s company marching up to the paymaster in turn at the temporary office he had rigged up al fresco, as Mick’s ‘Oitalian’ friends would say, on the upper deck, and receiving each his weekly pay; the boys being allowed, those of the first-class a shilling, and those of the second sixpence, for pocket-money, the balance being saved up to their account or else forwarded to their parents.
Much amusement was caused amongst us as we received the respective coins to which we were entitled, each holding out his cap for them; for a sailor, you know, puts everything in his cap. Pocketing our coin as we went below, Mick created the greatest fun of all as he spit on his and spun it in the air. “Hooray!” he cried out, against the regulations, though, fortunately for himself, not too loud, as he skated down the hatchway. “Begorrah, it’s the foorst money Oi iver arnt in me loif! Faith, Tom mabouchal, we’ll spind it togither an’ hev a rig’ler jollification ashore!”
The bugle sounded ‘cooks to their messes’ as Mick was saying this; and so off he hurried to the galley on the fore part of the middle deck when we had got down the hatchway, I following after him.
On passing the entry-port, however, my old friend the master-at-arms hailed me.
“Hi, Tom Bowling!” he called out, beckoning me into the office; “I hope you haven’t been getting into any row?”
“Not that I know of, sir,” said I, flabbergasted by his question. “Why, sir?”
“Because the captain left word he wants to speak to you,” he replied. “You must go up again on the main-deck to his quarters aft.”
Thoroughly frightened at this, I proceeded as he had directed me; and, on reaching the door of the captain’s cabin, the marine sentry standing outside passed on my name and I was ushered in.
Cap in hand and in a state of much trepidation, I went along the gangway with him; and ‘bringing up’ opposite an open door, I rapped at this with my heart in my mouth.
“Hallo!” cried a voice within. “Who’s there?”
“T–t–t,” I stammered— “T–T’m Bowling, sir.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the same voice, in a softer and more kindly tone than at first, when, I confess, it sounded rather gruff and peremptory. “Come in, Tom Bowling.”
With this, I went into what seemed to my eye, expecting, as I did, something very different on board ship, one of the grandest apartments I had ever seen; with sofas and pictures, and big looking-glasses, besides a piano at the end, just like a drawing-room. Why, the Queen herself couldn’t have had a finer place to live in!
The captain, who, of course, was the owner of the voice that had previously spoken, I saw was a nice, pleasant-faced, good-looking officer, looking every inch a sailor, and a smart one too!
He was sitting in a comfortable easy-chair that was fitted with gimbals, like the compass card in a binnacle, or some other appliance which permitted the occupant to shift round as he pleased without moving the seat; as my commanding officer did now, in order to face me.
“Don’t be afraid, my lad,” he said kindly, seeing, no doubt, how nervous I looked. “I’ve only sent for you to let you know that I have been told of your exceedingly courageous conduct just now in saving your shipmate from a terrible death. I’m glad to see that you are bearing out by your behaviour the strong recommendation Captain Mordaunt, who is an old friend of mine, sent me when you came to join the service.”
I declare you could have knocked me down with a feather on his saying this, the revulsion of feeling being so great; for I had expected something totally different, so I hardly knew what to say.
“Th–a–ank you, sir,” I at last managed to get out. “I—I—I am very much obliged to you, sir.”
“No obligation at all, my lad,” he said, smiling. “I am only giving you your due, for I think you have really behaved in a very plucky manner, and deserve all that I have said, and more. I must tell you, though, I have heard something else also about you, Tom Bowling, which, perhaps, I might have been inclined to speak about, for I don’t like any fighting or ill-feeling between the boys under my command here; but, after what has occurred, I shall not take any notice of what I might have heard to your detriment. Besides, I believe you were not particularly in fault, all things considered.”
Fancy! He must have been told of the fight between ‘Ugly’ and me.
My face, no doubt, expressed the thoughts that passed through my mind; and, as I could see from a mirror opposite me, I appeared, as father used to say, “like a cat looking nine ways for Sunday!”
The captain, though, evidently wished to set me at my ease.
“Never mind, my boy,” he said reassuringly. “We’ll let bygones be bygones; and, as you have so nobly condoned the offence of fighting with your shipmate by subsequently saving his life, I feel more inclined to reward than punish you. Have you been allowed ashore yet to see your parents since you joined?”
“No, sir,” I replied. “I didn’t have my uniform rig last Sunday, sir.”
“Well, then, my boy, you may go and see them this afternoon if you like, when you’ve finished your dinner. I will give you leave till Eight Bells.”
So saying, he scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
This was a pass, permitting me to be absent from the ship until the time specified on it.
Noticing, as I thanked him for his kindness, that I did not appear perfectly satisfied, he glanced at me scrutinisingly. His eye was like a gimlet, and seemed to penetrate my inmost thoughts; for, I declare, he guessed the feeling that was uppermost in my mind.
“Would you like, my lad,” he said, smiling again, “to take a chum with you ashore?”
“Why, sir,” I exclaimed, “that was the very thing I was thinking of!”
“Ha!” said he, “I fancied that was what was on your mind. Who is your chum?”
“Mick Donovan, sir,” I replied; “he’s an Irish lad who joined the ship the same time as me.”
“All right; Mick Donovan shall go with you,” said he. “Hand me back your pass.”
This I did; whereupon he bracketed Mick’s name with mine and returned me the paper.
“You may go now,” he said kindly, seeing the rush of joy that must have been reflected on my face, filling, as it did, my heart, though I hesitated to leave without his permission, albeit anxious to communicate the good news to Mick. “Stop, Tom, here’s half-a-crown for you and your chum to enjoy yourselves with.”
He put the money into my hand as he spoke, extracting it from his pocket for the purpose; and, I recollect, it was a nice new bright half-crown piece, which, though it was ‘melted’ very soon, will never pass out of my remembrance as quickly as it did from my possession!
Of course I thanked him before leaving; and, in going below, I halted at the police office, to tell the master-at-arms the result of my interview with our chief, whereat he appeared much satisfied, though he cautioned me to continue to be a good boy and not outstay my leave.
Making my way from thence below, it didn’t take me long to fetch up alongside Mick, who almost exploded with delight on my informing him we were to go ashore together. He pitched the piece of ‘gammy duff’ he was carving on his plate, which, by the way, was as hard as a brickbat, with the raisins or ‘gammies’ which it contained barely at signal distance apart, right up above his head to the deck beam, where it caught on to one of the hooks and remained a fixture.
“Bedad, Tom, ye’re an anjul if ivver ther wor one,” he cried, capering about as if he were mad. “We’ll hev a splindid toime of it entoirely. Faith, Oi’ll go and git me hair cut, to look like a jintlemin, afore I says yer sisther an’ yer fayther and moother!”
“I think I’ll do the same, Mick,” said I. “They haven’t seen me in my bluejacket rig yet, and I want to look as smart as I can too!”
Accordingly, the two of us had recourse to the ship’s barber, who cropped us both so close that it would have puzzled anybody to have caught hold of what hair was left on the heads of either, aye even between his thumb and forefinger.
As a boat was leaving the ship early in the afternoon, we went in her; when, being landed at Point, we soon found our way to Bonfire Corner, I, of course, acting as the navigator.
Dear me, no one ever saw such a homecoming in their life before as that of mine that day!
Jenny, who was dusting a mat at the door, rushed frantically into my arms, mat and all, my little sister hugging me as if we had really been parted for years, instead of only for the short spell of time that had elapsed since our separation; and my mother, who was not so demonstrative, was quite as glad, I know, to see me; while as for father, who was having a spell-off in the backyard with his pipe, he beamed all over at the sight of me in my uniform.
“Lor’, Tom!” he ejaculated, on my taking him unawares, with his head leaning back and the long churchwarden he was smoking dropping out of his mouth, for he had just started, with his eyes closed, for a ‘lay off the land,’ as he styled taking a snooze. “Ye’re the very h’image of what I wer’ when I wer’ your age—though not quite so good-looking I’m a-thinking!”
He said this in joke, for he and I were in the habit when in the wherry together of carrying on in that way and chaffing each other; but mother, who had followed me up, with Jenny behind her and Mick Donovan keeping close company in her wake, took poor father up with a round turn!
“What do you know what you were like at his age?” she cried. “Judging by your present figurehead, you couldn’t have been much to boast of!”
“Couldn’t I?” rejoined father. “I tell you what, Sarah, there wer’ a lot more gals ’sides you as wos a-runnin’ arter me when I was a youngster and first jined the sarvice!” Hearing my mother’s name mentioned, old ‘Ally Sloper’ at once struck up a screech, hopping through from the shop to join us.
“Say-rah, Say-rah!” he screamed, ruffling up the lemon crest on the top of his head, and spreading out the feathers round his neck that made him look as if he wore high collars. “I’ll wring your neck!”
I thought Mick Donovan would have died of laughing on hearing the cockatoo speak so funnily, his mirth being so contagious that we all followed suit; and, what with the screeching and screaming of the other birds, which seemed to take ‘Ally Sloper’s’ cry for a signal and chimed in, you never heard such a row in your life.
“Bedad, Oi’m kilt entoirely!” exclaimed Mick, when he had well-nigh laughed himself black in the face. “Oi nivver heerd such a baste in me loife fur talkin’, to bay sure!”
That made us all begin the concert over again; and I really think we kept on laughing and then stopping, only to break out again, until mother spread the table for tea, just to “shut our mouths,” as she said.
Both she and father were really pleased to see Mick, whom they had welcomed as my chum in the first instance, but presently began to like for his own sake after his being but a very short time in their presence—he was such a jolly chap all round!
My sister, however, seemed a bit shy with him, as indeed Mick appeared to be with her, the two hardly exchanging a word; though I noticed that when Jack, the thrush, commenced calling out in his soft way, “Jenny! Jenny!” Mick flushed up like a boiled lobster.
“Faith,” he exclaimed, “that’s a foine burd, an’ a purty burd too; an’, begorrah, he spakes the purtiest name I ivver heerd tell on in me loife.”
He looked at Jenny as he said this; when, she too coloured up.
I couldn’t tell you all that occurred that happy day, for the moments flew by like winking; and bye-and-bye we had to set sail again for our ship, laden with all sorts of good things to help out our diet on board, especially an enormous pot of jam, which mother said would last us for tea till we were able to come ashore again for another supply.
Father came with us down to Hardway, offering to put us on board in his wherry; and, though it was a longer voyage thence back to the ship than from Point, the tide being fortunately in our favour, we reached the Saint Vincent in good time, going up the accommodation ladder on the port side, which, as you know, is devoted to the use of the lower deck portion of the crew, just as Eight Bells struck.
“Ha, my lads,” cried the ‘Jaunty,’ who stood by the entry-port, “you’ve just saved your bacon!”
The other fellows were just coming down from skylarking; and, going below with the lot, we found time before turning in—Mick having declared that he was “hungry enuf to ate an illiphant”—to sample the stock of grub mother had so thoughtfully provided us with.
The sight of the big jam-pot, however, presently attracted a crowd of sympathisers around us, whose affability and kindly attentions, nay, even respectful demeanour, was something wonderful.
Mick and I never knew till then what dear friends we had aboard; any boy with whom we might have exchanged a chance word appearing as delighted to see us again as if we had risen from the dead.
Amongst these, Larrikins was prominent.
“Lor’, Tom Bowling,” he whispered to me, as he sidled up near, “yer knows I tuk a fancy to yer when I see’d yer first.”
“So you did, my joker,” said I, of course seeing through his ‘little game,’ as well as that of ‘Ginger,’ the other first-class boy who had been told off to attend to us novices, and had, it may be remembered, acted as ‘Ugly’s’ second. “You cut me down when I was in my hammock the first night I was aboard. That was a strong proof of your friendship towards me, eh, Larrikins?”
“Ah, Tom, that were only a little joke, don-cher-no,” he replied, with a grin and a wink of the most expressive character, “Lor’, yer don’t bear no mallerce, I knows!”
What could I say?
He was not half a bad fellow either; and so, having experienced many a little kindness from him as a new hand, in spite of his strong propensity for practical-joking at my expense, which I do not believe he could have possibly resisted under any circumstances, I passed the word to Mick to make him free of the jam-pot.
So, too, with the rest of those that hung round us, sailors and sailor-boys generally being generous alike by nature and inclination; and the end of it was, that the supply which mother thought would have lasted Mick and me till we saw her again, vanished the same night!