The Three Admirals

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Give way, then, lads,” said the lieutenant, putting the boat’s head round; the other following his example, they pulled back to the ship.

The sound of the firing having been heard, the captain had just ordered three boats to be got ready, and a party of marines and blue-jackets well armed to go in and help their shipmates, when the boats were seen coming off. As it was supposed that all had returned in them, the order was countermanded. On hearing from Mr Norman what had occurred, the boats were immediately ordered off, the captain himself taking command, the third lieutenant and the senior mate having charge of the other boats, with two or three other midshipmen and master’s assistants, who were all eager to recover their lost messmates.

No one would believe that they had been actually cut off, and fully expected to find them either defending themselves in some strong position, or on the beach, having cut their way through their enemies. The boats drew near the shore, but no natives were to be seen, nor were the missing party. On landing, Jack ordered the marines to form, and threw out skirmishers in front and on either side, to feel the way, fully expecting every moment to come in sight of a large body of the natives. Still on they went, but no one appeared. On getting to the foot of the knoll from which Lieutenant Norman had obtained a view of the country round, the captain and a party of men climbed up to the summit. Not a native was to be seen. In vain Jack turned his glass in every direction, hoping to see his brother’s party. No human being was visible, not even among the huts in the distance which Lieutenant Norman had discovered. To be sure, there might be natives close to them, yet concealed by the dense growth of the trees.

Jerry Bird, who had returned in the captain’s boat, and was as anxious as any one to recover the young officers, expressed his opinion that they had gone to the southward or south-west, and Jack resolved to make his way in that direction, in the hopes of coming upon their “trail,” as the expression is in North America. Desirous as he was of recovering the lost ones, he did not forget his duty to his ship. He felt that he must not run the risk of being drawn into a trap and surrounded by a superior force of the enemy, while it was incumbent on him to return to the boats before nightfall. The party could advance but slowly through the thick brushwood, in many places having to hew away with their cutlasses, every instant expecting to see the enemy start up before them. There were traces of blood on the ground and bushes, showing where some of the natives had fallen by the bullets fired by Mr Norman’s party, but the bodies of those killed had been carried off. Indeed, savage as these Papuans appeared to be, they apparently considered that “discretion is the best part of valour,” and seeing a superior force landing, had beat a retreat into their inland fastnesses.

Jack began to feel sick at heart as hour after hour went by, and several miles of ground had been passed over, without any traces of Tom and his companions having been discovered. The heat was intense, and the men began to show signs of fatigue, though they endeavoured to keep up as well as they could. Jack, finding a tolerably open space with a rivulet of fresh water running through it, called a halt. He considered that here there was no risk of surprise, as by placing men on the watch, there would be time to stand on the defensive before they were attacked. The rest, with food and fresh water, restored the men, and they were eager once more to push forward. The “bush” in front was becoming thicker than ever; should they once work their way well into it, they might find it a difficult matter to get out again. He accordingly ordered them to fire off their muskets and to give a good hearty British cheer, so that should the missing party be anywhere in the neighbourhood they might hear it. They waited in silence; no reply came. Jack looked at his watch. There would be barely time to reach the boats before dark, and should the enemy get between them and the shore, they would have to cut their way through them.

With a heavy heart the captain at last gave the order to retire.

“What! are we going off without punishing the rascals for the opposition they have shown us?” Jack overheard one of the officers remark. “They will consider that they have gained the day, and will behave in the same fashion to any who may pay them another visit.”

Jack’s thoughts had been so completely engaged about Tom and the other midshipmen that the necessity of inflicting punishment on the natives had not occurred to him. Perhaps, after all, should their friends not have been killed, they might have been carried prisoners to the village he had seen from the height. He accordingly directed his march towards it, and as the country was pretty open in that direction, the party made good progress.

The huts were reached; they were of considerable size, raised above the ground on piles, and were constructed chiefly of bamboos and thatched with palm leaves. The first they entered was deserted. They went on from house to house. Not a human being was to be found, even the old people and children had been removed. As the only means of punishing the people for the uninvited attack they had made on the boats’ crews, Jack ordered the whole village to be given to the flames. By igniting a few handfuls of dried leaves which were thrown into the houses, they quickly blazed up from one end to the other. They were left burning so furiously that even should the inhabitants return, they could not possibly extinguish the fire.

Even this necessary act did not induce the enemy to come from their hiding-places, nor did they appear even in the distance as the party marched back to the boats. It was a bitter disappointment not to have recovered the midshipmen and their companions, while, from not having got hold of any of the natives, it had been impossible to ascertain their fate.