I dashed down, climbed upon the bulwark, seized the falls just as they were about to be cast off, and slid down into the stern to take my place. Then the oars fell with a splash, and away we went over the ruddy sea to try and save all we could of the wretches upon whom so terrible a retribution had come.
One of the warrant officers was in command; he gave me a grim nod.
“Want to see the fun?” he said.
“I want to see the men saved,” I replied; “I don’t know where the fun comes in.”
“You soon will,” he said. “Look out for yourself, my lad; and don’t be too eager to help them.”
“Why?”
“You’ll soon see,” he said gruffly. Then turning to the four marines in the stern-sheets—“fix bayonets, and keep a sharp look-out.”
I looked at him wonderingly, for fixed bayonets did not seem very suitable things for saving drowning men. But I said nothing, only sheltered my eyes from the level rays of the sun as we rowed swiftly on, and gazed across the water at the despairing wretches fighting for their lives upon the blood-red surface of the water.
It was very horrible after a time, for, as I looked with my heart feeling contracted, I saw a man, who had been swimming hard, suddenly throw up his hands and sink.
It was too much for me.