“Right,” growled the skipper. “Man the gun again, and you, Cross, come below with me and fetch a canister of grape-shot and a full business charge to load the piece. You lads who are not wanted for the gun, each of you take a musket and an axe. It aren’t likely that we shall come to close quarters, but if we do—well, you know what.”
Every man on board joined in a hearty cheer, and in a very short time the preparations were made, even the cook playing his part of keeping the galley fire ready, while directly afterwards he edged up to where Joe Cross was in conversation with Rodd.
“Thought I would come the old-fashioned dodge as well, sir,” he said.
“Old-fashioned? What do you mean?”
“For firing the gun, sir. I’ve left the poker in between the bars to get red-hot. Put that to your touch-hole. Beats slow match hollow; don’t it, Joe?”
“Ay, that it do, mate, if you have got the fire, and the poker’s hot; but you have to come back to the slow match if neither one nor t’other’s ready. Well, Mr Rodd, sir, it don’t look as if any of us is going to have the watch below to-night.”
“No, Joe, it doesn’t. Do you think the monster will come up again?”
“Can’t say, sir, I’m sure, and to speak honest, there are times when I hope it will and there are times when I hope it won’t. Sea-sarpints aren’t much in my line. I have had a turn in a whaler, and though a right whale is a nasty kind of a bird to tackle when she is in her flurry, you know what you are about. There’s the harpoon in her, and you have got her at the end of your line, and you’re waiting for her with your lances ready to put her out of her misery. But even if you have got a few shot in her, a sea-sarpint’s different sort of cattle altogether, and I didn’t like the looks of this ’ere one at all. She came up quite vicious-like to look after us. You see her eye, Mr Rodd, sir? I did, sir, for a moment. There was a sort of leery look about it, and it seemed to me as if she had just picked you out and meant to have you. All the lads here know I’m one as never brags, but if there’s a bit of fighting on I am always ready to stick to my mates, just as I would now.”
“Ay, ay, Joe! That’s a true word,” came in chorus.
“Thank you, messmates,” said Joe modestly. “Well, then, I’ll speak out. Between you and me and the post, my lads, I hope this ’ere annymile won’t come up to give us a shot.”