The Admiral recalled all the combatants now, and thanked and praised them. So long, he said, as Britain had men like this, both Scotch and English, to say nothing of the brave Irish, she need never fear a foreign foe, afloat or on shore.
And the cheering almost drowned the music of the band that had struck up "Rule, Britannia," the men singing to the melody.
"Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves."
It all ended in dinner and dancing, but every one was happy, the Admiral's girls especially.
They had never, they said, spent a breezier evening than among the Broadsword-men of the Breezy.
* * * * *
But this cruiser was too smart a ship to be allowed to remain at peace in any place for more than a week. And now receiving orders that some underhand work was taking place up Zanzibar way, the ship was coaled hurriedly.
This coaling in double-quick time was not a real necessity be it known. It is, was, ever, and will be, a species of extra drill in the service.
There was a large number of Kroomen on board, and to them fell the largest share of the dirty work.
These sturdy blacks came from the neighbourhood of Sierra Leone. They were not borne in the ship's books, being working hands pure and simple. They were under the command of their own head Krooman. This man was a forest chief in his own wild back country. He ruled his men not with a rod of iron, but the end of a stout manilla rope, and woe betide the backs of any who tried to shirk his duty.