The Three Commanders

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The corvette lay becalmed, lapping her sides in the shining water, as the glass-like undulations under her keel rolled her now to starboard and now to port, the sun striking down and making the pitch bubble up out of the seams of her deck. No sail was in sight, but still a bright look-out was kept. In case any slaver bringing up a breeze might attempt to slip by inshore of her, the boats were in readiness to shove off in chase.

“A steamer to the nor’ard, sir,” shouted the look-out to the second lieutenant, who reported the same to the commander. All hands were quickly up on deck. She was probably a British cruiser, perhaps bringing news for them—a mail via the Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea.

At last, after various conjectures as to what she was, the Busy Bee made her number, and paddled up in a way which made the crew wish that they possessed similar means of locomotion. She blew off her steam when close to them, and a boat from her side brought her commander on board. He was the bearer of despatches from the commodore.

Murray called Adair into his cabin. “The commodore has received information that the Arabs are rebuilding the fort we destroyed,” he said, “and so I suppose that we shall have to go up the river to do the work over again. He has directed me in the meantime to station two of our boats, with one from the Busy Bee, to be joined shortly by a fourth from the frigate, at the island of Mafamale, which is about seven miles from the mouth of the river. I may select the officer to command the expedition, and if you wish to go, I will appoint you, with Jos Green and Desmond and Gordon. You will look out for dhows either going up to, or coming down from Angoxa, and for others running along the coast, which are certain to pass between the island and the mainland. The corvette and the steamer will in the meantime stand down the coast, and the dhows seeing us will hope to get to Zanzibar without interruption. The plan seems to be a good one, and I trust that we shall be able to strike a more effectual blow at the slave-trade than the commodore has hitherto been able to give it.”

Terence, who had been wishing for this sort of work, gladly accepted Murray’s offer. The corvette stood on till she came off the island, when the pinnace and barge, well fitted for the duties they were at once to engage in, were got out. The Busy Bee landed a couple of water tanks, for not a drop of the necessary fluid was to be found on the island; while she and the corvette sent three months’ provisions on shore, with tents, arms, and ammunition.

With three hearty cheers from the crews, responded to by their respective ships, the boats shoved off and pulled away for the island, to become their headquarters for the next three months. Its appearance was not over-attractive, for it was low and sandy, scarcely more than two miles in circumference, with a small forest of Casuarina trees on the highest part, bordered by a belt of thin grass.

One of the first boats sent on shore contained a large seine, and Jos Green was directed to haul it as soon as possible for the purpose of supplying the ship’s company with fresh fish. All hands were well pleased to hear the order, and the men destined for that object quickly transmogrified themselves into fishermen with blue jerseys, tarry trousers, and red caps, looking more like lawless pirates than well-conducted men-of-war’s men. Two of the smaller boats under the command of the master, who was accompanied by Desmond and Archie, then pulled in. On the north side of the island was a shelving beach, where the water was perfectly smooth and not a rock or stone to be found. It was just such a beach as to satisfy all the requirements of men-of-war’s men, capable at the same time of supplying sand for holy-stoning the decks, and to afford admirable ground for hauling the seine.

The net was quickly run out, forming a wide semicircle, and surrounding, no doubt, vast numbers of fish, as they could be seen of various forms and sizes sporting in the clear water. The boats being hauled up, the work of hauling the net began. Just at that juncture several officers who had before landed came across the island to see the fun, and immediately all hands tailed on to the hauling-lines. As the net drew nearer and nearer to the land, innumerable specimens of the finny tribe could be seen leaping and springing about, mutually surprised at finding themselves brought unexpectedly in such near proximity to each other and to the shore; evidently thinking that it was time to make a dash for the more open water. Vain were the attempts of those who foolishly fancied by swimming slow and concealing themselves they might the more surely effect their escape. The bolder fish, who, leaping high, cleared the encircling net, were alone successful, some enormous fellows setting the example. Others attempted to follow them.

“We shall have them all getting off if we don’t bear a hand,” cried Green; “haul away, my lads.”

“Better be after them and hook them out,” exclaimed Desmond, suiting the action to the word, and plunging in amid the struggling fish. Archie could not resist doing the same, and presently every officer, including the commander and Adair, were up to their knees in the water, each trying to seize one or more of the monsters, who, it was evident, would, if they attempted it, clear a passage for themselves through the meshes. Desmond had fixed upon two, and down he went upon hands and knees, endeavouring to kill the creatures leaping, wriggling, and struggling to get free. As he did so, one of them, making a bolt between his legs, toppled him over on his nose, where he lay kicking and plunging, scarcely to be distinguished from the fish surrounding him. He quickly, however, got his head above water, as he did so, spluttering out, “Arrah, the baste! I haven’t let him go, though,” and, kneeling on the creature, he managed to work his hands under its gills, when, holding it up, he dragged it triumphantly to the shore.