“Wheel that puncheon here, men.”
Much surprised, the men did as they were ordered.
“Now knock out both ends, and when you have tightened the hoops again, fill the barrel about a third full with sticks, grass, bits of wood, anything you can come across.”
The men scattered at once to collect the ballast, with some doubts in their minds as to whether the midshipman had not gone out of his senses. In about fifteen minutes they had carried out his instructions.
“Dismount the gun,” he then ordered, “and put it inside the barrel.”
When this had, with some difficulty, been accomplished, and the barrel surrounded the centre of the gun, he said: “Now fill up the barrel with the rest of that rubbish.”
The sailors had now caught the idea, and very soon they had the gun tightly packed into its novel carriage. Two long ropes were then passed round the puncheon, the ends being carried a little way up the hill. This formed a parbuckle, and when the men hauled upon the upper lengths of the ropes the cask easily rolled up to the ends of the lower lengths. This operation was repeated again and again, and gradually the cask moved up the rock. At places it had to be hauled up lengthways, boards being placed underneath it to give it a smooth surface over which to glide instead of the rough rock, and men encouraging it from behind with levers. While they were at work Nelson came up and stood watching them for some minutes without speaking.
“Where did you learn how to do that?” he said to Will at last.
“I heard of it at the siege of St. Pierre, sir.”
“Well, you profited by your lesson. It is a pleasure to see a young fellow use his wits in that way. But for your sharpness I question whether we should ever have got the guns up there. I was looking at it myself yesterday, and I doubted then whether it was at all practicable. You have settled the question for me, and I’ll not forget you. What is your name, sir?”