The wound in Bangs’ neck, which had been made by a boarding pike, was not deep, but still it was an ugly cut, and if, as he himself expressed it, he had not been bull-necked, it would have gone hard with him.
“Captain, my boy,” said he, when the surgeon had finished dressing his wound, “I’m pretty well patched up now, and feel as good as new, except a little stiffness, but I’m very thankful I have such a strong bundle of muscles, 116 or some of the arteries would have been in danger. Come, and get mended yourself now, and I will hold the light.”
A calm had fallen on the sea, which rendered all work unnecessary at present, and the cabin, which was again used as a cockpit, was filled with poor fellows waiting to have their wounds dressed. When it came to my turn I took off my clothes and seated myself on a tub. The pistol bullet which had struck me, was sticking in the fleshy part of my left shoulder, just below the skin, and made a small protuberance resembling a sloe in form and colour. The collar bone which it had first struck, but glanced off from, to bury itself in the muscles of the arm, was somewhat injured, and my breast was not a little bruised. The opening in the skin, caused by the bullet, was so small that one could hardly introduce a pea into it, and scarcely any blood flowed therefrom.
“It is a very simple thing, sir,” said the surgeon, as he introduced a small probe into the wound; putting a finger on each side of the ball, he pressed them together, causing it to fly out.
“It is a lucky thing, captain,” said Bangs, “that your collar bone can bear something, as well as my neck, but this bruise on your breast is of more consequence; you must go to bed, and take care of yourself.”
But there was no bed on which I could lie down. The cabin was filled with the wounded, and the surgeon had plenty of work before him, for out of our little crew of forty-two men, nine were killed and eleven wounded. Accordingly I had a tent erected on deck, in which I and my friends determined to take up our quarters for the night. 117 It was now eight o’clock. I could only remain in the tent until I saw my friends provided for, for my presence was constantly required to direct the repairing of the injuries we had sustained. The greatest part of our rigging was shot away, and the tired sailors were busy in mending it as well as they were able. Our mainmast was much injured near the deck, and we were obliged as well as circumstances would permit, to steady it with wooden props. Our foremast had fortunately come off with a whole skin, but we had received thirteen shots in our hull, three of them between wind and water.
When all was done that skill and the most determined perseverance could do, I returned to our tent. Not far from it, near the stern of the vessel, sat Wagtail, preparing our supper with the help of the cook. This meal, as you may imagine, was uncommonly simple––salt beef, biscuits and cold grog, but I doubt if any of us before or since, ever partook of a meal with such an appetite as we did then. The beef disappeared as if by magic; the bones were polished off until they were as white as ivory, whilst the rum sank in the flask like the quicksilver in a barometer, on the approach of a hurricane.
“Holloa captain,” cried Bangs, when he had stopped to take breath, “how do you feel, my boy?”
“Well, not as easy as I could wish for; this day has been a day of fearful responsibility to me.”
“Just so,” replied he, “I shall sleep with a heavy heart myself, for though I am no butcher by profession, I have this day shed the blood of more than one fellow creature; it is a dreadful reflection, and what was it all for, captain? 118 You meet a large vessel in the night, and sing out ’heave to.’ The large vessel says ‘I won’t.’ You say ‘You shall.’ The large vessel replies ‘I’ll be damned if I do.’ And immediately you take measures to make the large vessel heave to, and thereby some five hundred human beings, who a few hours ago were in possession of life and health, are now food for fishes.”