The midshipmen made no answer, for, being as well aware as he was of the importance of maintaining discipline, they thought his remark rather superfluous.
The weather continued fine, and the old mate appeared to be in unusual good-humour. He laughed and talked and spun long yarns which amused his companions, although they had heard most of them twenty times before. When tired of talking, he stretched himself in the stern sheets to “take a snooze,” as he said, charging them to call him should anything occur. “You see, youngsters, what confidence I place in you,” he observed. “I could not venture to shut my eyes if I didn’t feel sure that you would keep a bright look-out. It is for your good besides, that you may know how to act when left in command of a boat.”
The midshipmen suspected that Rhymer thought more of his own comfort than of benefiting them. They passed several small islands. On some grew a scanty vegetation, while others were mere sand-banks. One of them was occupied by vast numbers of wild fowl, on which Rhymer looked with longing eyes.
“We might land, and in a short time kill birds enough to supply ourselves for a couple of days,” he observed; “the delay cannot be of consequence.”
Ned recollected that Rhymer had received orders to proceed without delay to the southward, but he knew that it would not do to remind him. The boat was therefore headed in towards a point on the lee side, where it appeared likely that an easy landing-place could be found. The beach, however, shelved so gradually that she could not approach within about twenty yards of the dry sand; she therefore was brought up by a grapnel, and Rhymer said that he would wade on shore, telling Ned to remain in charge of the boat with part of the crew, while Charley and the rest accompanied him. Neither Rhymer nor Charley had much experience as sportsmen, and as their arms were only ship’s muskets, Ned thought it possible that they would not kill as many birds as Rhymer expected to obtain. Taking off their shoes and trousers, Rhymer and his followers jumped overboard and waded ashore. There were but few birds on that end of the island, the chief colony being some way off. Ned heard several shots fired, but the sportsmen were too far off by that time for him to see whether any birds had been killed. In a short time the sounds of firing again reached him, evidently at a still greater distance; he did not forget his directions to keep a bright look-out, and he occasionally swarmed to the masthead that he might obtain a more extensive view. He had gone up for the fourth time, when he caught sight of a white sail coming up from the southward with the wind off the land; she was a dhow, of that there was no doubt, and might be a full slaver. She would possibly pass close to the island, abreast of which, as she was sailing rapidly, she would very quickly arrive. There was no time to be lost. He glanced his eye over the land, but could nowhere discover the shooting party; he was afraid of firing, for fear of alarming the crew of the dhow. As the only means of getting back Rhymer, he sent one of the men to try and find him and urge him to return. On came the dhow; every moment was precious; she had not yet discovered the boat. The man, wading on shore, ran off along the sand; the dhow was almost abreast of the island; at length Ned, to his relief, saw his companions approaching in the distance.
He got the sail ready, so that it might be hoisted the moment the party were on board. He shouted and signed to them to make haste, pointing to the dhow; at last Rhymer came, followed by Charley and the men, wading through the water, puffing and blowing, terribly out of wind. The result of the sport appeared to be only half-a-dozen wild fowl, the bodies of some being nearly blown to pieces. The party quickly tumbled into the boat, and, the grapnel being got up, she immediately made sail on a course which Rhymer fancied would cut off the dhow. He was evidently in no good-humour at the ill-success of their sport, but the prospect of making a prize somewhat restored him; the dhow, however, must soon have seen the boat standing out towards her.
“Hurrah! she knows it is no use running, and gives in at once,” exclaimed Rhymer, as the dhow was seen to lower her canvas. He soon altered his tone when she hoisted a much larger sail than she had before been carrying, and put up her helm, standing away directly before the wind.
“We must be after her, lads,” cried Rhymer. “The breeze may fail, and if she is becalmed we are sure to have her.”
It occurred to Ned that if Rhymer had not landed on the island this would have been more likely. The wind being light, the oars were got out and the boat went along at a good rate.
“We shall have her, we shall have her!” cried the old mate; “she is within range of our gun. Try a shot, Meadows.”