“Yes, sir, that chap is made of good stuff, depend upon it—all the Dutchmen are: if they could only keep their hands out of their breeches pockets, they would be rummer customers than they are now; as it is, they are not to be played with; and, depend upon it, we’re a long way off having him yet: we must pray for wind to come up and he must pray for the calm to continue.”
“Where’s Mr Keene?” said the captain, who was on the other side of the deck.
“Here, sir,” said I, running up and touching my hat.
“Mr Keene, go down quietly and ascertain how many men we have hurt: the doctor will be able to tell you pretty nearly.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” replied I, and I dived down below; just as I did so, a shot came in and cut away the lower rail of the copper stanchions which were round the hatchway, about a foot beyond my hat: had I not gone down so quickly, it would have taken my head off.
I went down into the gun-room, for the doctor preferred being there to the cockpit, as there was so much more room to operate, and I gave him the captain’s message.
He was very busy taking off a poor fellow’s leg. It was a horrible sight and made me sick and faint. As soon us the bone had been sawed off, he said—
“You will find all the wounded I have dressed in the steerage; those they have brought me down dead are in the cockpit. There have been five amputations already the master is badly wounded, and Mr Williams the mate, is killed: those whom I have not been able to attend to yet, are here in the gun-room. You must ascertain what the captain wishes to know yourself, Mr Keene. I cannot, leave a leg with the arteries not taken up, to count heads. Mr Rivers, the tenaculum—ease the tourniquet, now.”
As I felt what the doctor said to be true, I got a lantern and commenced my examinations. I found fourteen wounded men waiting the doctor’s care in the gun-room, which was almost a pool of blood. In the steerage there were nine who had been dressed, and four in their hammocks, who had undergone amputation of the arm or leg. I then went down into the cockpit, where I counted eleven of our best men lying dead. Having obtained the information required, I was proceeding up the cockpit ladder, when I turned towards the purser’s steward’s room, and saw Mr Culpepper, the purser, on his knees before a lantern; he looked very pale—he turned round and saw me.
“What’s the matter?” cried he.