The Three Commanders

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“There is a chance still that the ship will pick her up,” observed Tom. “We want his help to take care of the poor blacks, and to look after these Arabs. How to feed them all will be a puzzle.”

“I suppose there’s food on board the dhow?” observed Desmond.

“Yes, but how are we to get it? If we pull off to her, the blacks will run away, or the wounded Arabs will get up and release their companions,” said Tom.

“Faith, then, the best way will be to take them on board with us,” said Desmond; “it’s somewhat like the story of the fox and the goose and the peas.”

The day was wearing on, and the lieutenant’s boat had been led a long way out to sea, so that it would be almost dark before she could reach the shore. The midshipmen themselves were becoming very hungry and thirsty, for they had left their provisions on the top of the cliff, and could not venture back to procure them. They had not a moment’s rest; every now and then they were compelled to start off, now in one direction, now in another, to turn back the negroes, who were constantly making attempts to run off.

While Tom was watching the boat, two shots were heard in rapid succession from the island, towards which he at once saw her alter her course.

“She’ll not be coming here, after all!” he exclaimed; “something has happened on the island, and that was a signal to her to put in.”

“We must make the best of a bad case, then,” said Desmond. “I propose that we compel all the blacks to sit down in a ring; they will be better off than they were in the hold of the dhow, and will have no reason to complain. We must make them understand that if any of them attempt to get up they will be shot. As for the wounded Arabs, we must place a sentry over them, and tell them the same; while we must see that the prisoners’ arms and legs are securely lashed. If the other fellows don’t come back, I see no reason why, provided we keep our eyes open, we shouldn’t get on very well. It won’t be very pleasant to walk about all night, but it will be better than allowing the Arabs to cut our throats, or letting the blacks escape, for their sakes and our own.”

“A very good proposal, Desmond,” said Tom; “I couldn’t have thought of a better myself, and we will at once carry out your plan.” Tom explained to the men what they wished to have done, who, choosing a spot just above high-water mark, made the blacks understand that they were to go and sit down there. They put the women and children in the centre, then the weaker-looking people and lads, and the stronger men outside of all. They could thus better keep an eye on those most likely to try to escape; and they managed to impress on their minds pretty clearly what they intended doing, should they make the attempt. These arrangements being made, they hoped to get through the night without losing any of their prisoners, even should Mr Matson not arrive to their assistance. They were, however, suffering considerably from hunger and thirst, and at last Tim Nolan, touching his hat, offered to go off to the dhow and bring on shore something to eat.

As there was still some daylight, Tom thought that he could manage to keep the blacks in order, and agreed that Desmond should go, accompanied by Tim, while he and the other two men kept a strict watch over their charges. As the tide had already run out, the boat had but a short distance to traverse. In a short time Desmond came to the bow of the dhow, and shouted out that he had found plenty of food, and would bring some kettles on shore to cook it.