The Three Commanders

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I wish I was on board,” cried Tom; “surely one or other of the rascals must be caught.” It was doubtful, however, whether this would be the case. One thing alone was clear, that all the three vessels had slaves on board, or, rather than run the risk of being struck, they would immediately have hauled down their sails. Tom now turned his attention to the boats, which were still at some distance from the southernmost dhows, and seemed likely to cut them both off. The other two had not reappeared, but had probably found anchorage in a bay to the southward, not supposing perhaps that they had been seen.

“Hurrah!” exclaimed Desmond, who had been watching the ship; “she’s brought down the sail of one of the rascals, and is firing away sharply to prevent her rehoisting it.”

Some few more minutes passed. “She’s up to her,” he cried; “see, she’s shortening sail, which will help to give the other fellows a better chance of escaping; but she’ll not be long about it.”

Once more the sails were sheeted home, and the ship rushed forward after her prey, the boat she had lowered appearing like a small speck on the ocean, close to the dhow about to be boarded. The steamer was now in hot chase after the other two dhows, still considerably ahead of her, and making, apparently, for the shore, from which she was endeavouring to turn them by a rapid discharge of shot and shell. The boat’s crew she had left behind were quickly in possession of the dhow, the Arabs, as far as could be seen, having made no resistance.

“I thought the coast was rocky all the way to the north,” observed Tom; “if those dhows run on shore they will be knocked to pieces in no time, and every human being on board them drowned.”

“I heard the master say only yesterday that there were one or two sandy beaches of no great extent some miles on, and I suppose the dhows are making for them, though I shouldn’t have thought they had got so far,” answered Desmond; “I only hope the ship won’t be knocking her nose on the rocks in her eagerness to get hold of the fellows.”

“No fear of that,” said Tom; “my brother Jack is too careful to do so bungling a thing; though he’s ready enough to run every risk when necessary. He wouldn’t esteem your remark as a compliment.”

“I don’t doubt his judgment,” said Desmond; “though if you are not on board to give him the benefit of your advice, he may be after getting into a scrape. But, I say, what are the other two boats about? I had almost forgotten them.”

Tom turned his telescope to the south-east, in which direction the white bulging sails of the dhows could be seen shining brightly, as they floated above the blue ocean; while the boats lay ahead of them, like two crouching savage animals waiting for their prey. They were more than a mile apart, so that they could render no assistance to each other; but, apparently, they considered that would not be necessary, as the Arabs, even if they had slaves on board, were not likely to offer any resistance with a man-of-war in sight. There was no escape for either of the dhows, for the surf broke upon every part of the coast visible to the southward with a fury which must preclude all hope of escape to any human being on board; and thus, if they intended to fight, they must be prepared to conquer and run ahead of the ship while she was engaged with her companions nearer the shore. Still, there was sufficient probability of their doing so to make Desmond and Tom, with all the men on the rock, watch the proceedings with intense interest.

On flew the dhows, their bulging sails swelling in the breeze, and the white foam flying up under their low bows. Matson, the second lieutenant, commanded one of the boats, and the senior mate the other. The object of the dhows, since they could not avoid the boats, was to try and give them the stem, but the English officers were not to be caught so at a disadvantage. The second lieutenant’s boat was nearest in; as the dhow came dashing on, the lieutenant ran his boat alongside, and he and his men, like ants, could be seen scrambling up over the bulwarks. Some small tiny puffs showed that fighting was going on. Then came a pretty considerable number, though the reports which reached them sounded no louder than those of pop-guns. Tom declared that he could see the flash of steel as the cutlasses glittered in the sunshine. One thing was certain, that the British crew had gained the slaver’s deck—for that a slaver she was there could be no doubt.