“Jack, Jack,” said the sergeant, when the fort was in our possession, “I owe you much. You saved my life, I believe, but you did more than that, you saved my honour.”
Before the day was over, not only Canton, but all the surrounding forts were in possession of the British. As Sergeant Turbot could descend the hill more easily than he could get up it, I wished him good-bye, and returned with my young officer to the boat. Poor Mr Hanson had received a wound in the leg, which had, I found, prevented him joining in the attack.
Chapter Seven.
Our Cruise in the Junk.
Just as we got out of the creek we caught sight of a large junk stealing round a point at no great distance from us. Although Mr Hanson and one of the men were wounded, he instantly ordered us to give chase, and away we pulled after the junk, which as we rounded the point we saw was making for one of the innumerable canals which intersect the country in all directions. If she once got into it she might escape us. The men therefore bent to their oars with a right good will, apparently just as fresh, as when they left the schooner in the morning. As we approached the junk, the Chinese began firing at us with their gingals and swivels, and for a couple of minutes or more we were exposed to a pretty heavy shower of bullets. I got the rim of my hat taken off.
“No odds,” I cried out; “it’s better than the tip of my nose.”
A man near me had a shot through the fleshy part of his shoulder, and a dozen bullets or more stuck in the sides of our boat. On we dashed, however, right under the oars of the Chinaman.
“Come on, my lads?” shouted Dicky Plumb, whose blood was up to boiling pitch; and catching hold of a pike which was thrust at him, he hauled himself up on to the junk’s deck, four of our men climbing up at the same moment. Fortunately for Master Dicky, Ned Rawlings was by his side, and saved his head from a blow aimed at him by a Chinaman. Mr Hanson, in spite of his wound, got the men to haul him up. I followed close behind Mr Plumb, and in a few seconds we were all upon the deck of the Chinaman, slashing and cutting away. So frightened had the Chinese become at our proceedings in the morning, that very few stopped to oppose us, and scarcely had we gained the deck, than the crew began to jump overboard on the opposite side. In another minute not a Chinaman was left alive on the upper deck.
“Now, lads, let us look after them below!” shouted Mr Plumb, leading the way to the main deck. A considerable number of the crew had remained there, intent upon mischief. As they saw us, however, they made a bolt right forward and leaped through a large port, striking out for the shore, which was not more than thirty yards off.
“They have been after something or other,” cried Mr Plumb.
As he spoke, I sprang down to the deck below, and there I saw what looked like a thin snake of fire crawling along the deck. I rushed at it, and found the end of a slow match which had not long been lighted. To snatch it up and throw it overboard was the work of a moment. I was only just in time, however, and did not feel very comfortable even then, for it was leading down, through an opening in the deck, to what I had little doubt was the magazine. Ned Rawlings, who had followed me, sprang to where several buckets were hung up, and seizing one of them to which a rope was attached, in a moment he had it full of water, which he dashed down the opening into the magazine. Mr Hanson now ordered the cable of the junk to be cut, and sent the boat ahead to tow her out of the creek. There was no time to be lost, for a number of Chinese were collecting on the shore, some of them already beginning to take long shots at us. Four hands jumped into the boat with Mr Plumb, while two others, with Ned Rawlings and I, remained to assist Mr Hanson. As there were a number of small boats along the shore, the Chinese might easily have come back again; but they expected to see us blown up into the air, and the fear of the consequence kept them at a distance, and proved our safety.