“Exactly; get out your gun and put on your cartridge belt.”
I followed his example, and Ching smiled.
“Velly good thing,” he said. “Now pilate fliend, see jolly sailor boy, and say—Come killee duck-bird, goose-bird to make nicee dinner, not come catchee catchee pilate.”
“You hear what this man says, my lads?” said the young lieutenant, addressing the men.
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Then you understand now that we have not only come up to shoot?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Keep your rifles and cutlasses quite handy in case they are wanted. No confusion, mind, but at the word be ready.”
Mr Brooke’s words seemed to send a thrill through the men, who pulled on now with a more vigorous stroke, while, with our guns charged, and the butts resting on our knees, we gave place to the coxswain, who took the tiller.
“We’ll go forward, Herrick,” said my companion; and he stepped over the thwarts into the coxswain’s place, and I sat by him, watching alternately for birds, junks, and creeks, up which the latter might lie.