“A very unpleasant character,” I observed, though its hideousness did not strike me so forcibly in those days as it does now. “I shouldn’t like to serve with him.”
“Nor did I at first,” said my friend, “but I have got accustomed to his style; and some of our fellows have taken a leaf out of his book, and boast and quarrel as much as he does.”
I thought to myself of the old saying, “Like master, like men,” and adapted it, “Like captain, like midshipmen.”
“I would rather serve under Captain Collyer,” I remarked. “He does not quarrel with or shoot his companions, and I do not believe that there is a braver man in the service.”
Our conversation was interrupted by a chase after poor Gogles, whom Spellman and others had started up the mizen-rigging, giving him a minute’s start. If they caught him he was to receive a cobbing; if he escaped he was to give them one, if he could. Poor Gogles had certainly made but a bad bargain. All the rest of the youngsters, including the Daring’s midshipman and me, soon joined in the chase—not all, however, to catch Gogles, but rather to impede his pursuers, and to give him a better chance of escape. Although he had not an over allowance of wits, he was very active, and had great tenacity of grip—qualities more valuable to skylarking midshipmen, rope-dancers, and monkeys, than brains.
Up went Gogles valiantly to the topgallant mast-head, and, waiting till Spellman had got close up to him, under pretence of being tired, he slid down the lift on to the yard-arm, and running in on the yard, had descended to the cross-trees, leaving all his pursuers above him. In similar ways he contrived to evade his pursuers, I and others helping him by pulling at their legs, or getting above them and stopping their way up. He had, I considered, fairly won the right to cob all the party; but, grown bold by his success, he descended by the lift to the topsail yard-arm, and was about to stoop down to traverse the brace to the mainmast, when, from hearing Spellman’s shout, he looked up, and, missing his grasp, over he went headlong into the water.
I was at the time on the cross-jack yard. I ran to the end. Though Gogles could swim, he was, I at once saw, stunned by the fall. I did not stop to consider whether there was danger or not, but, slipping off my jacket, which I threw in board, and kicking off my shoes, I plunged in after him, fortunately not losing my breath in my fall. I looked about for Gogles. He was just sinking. I swam towards him, for there was a current running which had drifted him already to some distance. No sooner did I reach him, however, than like a squid he threw his arms about me, and made it impossible for me to strike out. I entreated him to free me, but he evidently did not understand what I said. The dread that we should both be drowned came over me. I kicked my legs about as much as I could, but I could not shout out for fear of filling my mouth with water. I thought of sharks—indeed of all sorts of horrible things. We appeared to be drifting farther from the ship.
Preparations were being made to lower a boat, but I felt that before it could reach me I must sink. Just then I caught sight of the boatswain’s long nose over the hammock nettings, and the next instant he had slid down a rope overboard, and was striking out towards me. “Shout, boy I shout, my son! and kick away—kick away,” he kept exclaiming, as with sturdy strokes he clave the water, in his progress making himself all the time as much noise as possible.
I guessed the reason of his cries, for I saw a black fin in the distance. Had I been alone when I saw that ill-omened fin I believe that I should have quickly sunk; but the feeling that I had my messmate to support, and that the honest boatswain was coming to my help, kept me up. I did as Mr Johnson directed me, and kept kicking with all my might, and shouting too, whenever I could get my mouth clear of the water. Still I got more down it than was pleasant. I saw something gleaming in Mr Johnson’s hand. It was a long Spanish knife.
Gogles had been quiet for some time, but just then he began to struggle, and again clasped me round the neck. I felt as if I was sinking, and was earnestly wishing that Mr Johnson was a few yards nearer, when I saw him suddenly turn aside and strike off to the left. My eye followed him with an intensity of interest such as I cannot describe. It caught the gleam of his knife, and then what was my horror to find that he had disappeared. It was but for a moment. Directly afterwards he rose again, surrounded by a circle of crimson, and a huge black body floated up near him, lashing the water. He darted forward, and, seizing Gogles, released me from his grasp.