The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The seamen were busily employed in sharpening cutlasses and examining their pistols, and the soldiers in furbishing up their arms ready for active service.

Not a breath of wind stirred the glass-like surface of the water; the sun came down with intense heat, making the pitch in the seams of the decks bubble and squeak, so Paddy Desmond declared; even those most inured to tropical suns felt the heat, which even the awnings stretched over the quarterdeck could scarcely mitigate. Poor Captain Babbicome was seen pacing up and down with a large bandanna in his hand, puffing and blowing, and wiping the perspiration from his brow. He received but little consolation when he heard Terence remark that it would be hotter still up the river.

“Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?” he exclaimed; “if this continues I shall be reduced to a skeleton.”

The doctor strongly advised him to remain on board. “A sunstroke would finish you, sir,” he observed, “and you would be a loss to the service.”

Still Commander Babbicome was too brave a man to give in willingly. Even when Captain Hemming directed him to remain in charge of the squadron during his absence, he begged to be allowed, should he feel better, to proceed up the river.

“Act as you think best. Should you recover sufficiently to stand the fatigue, of course I shall be glad to have your assistance,” answered his superior officer.

Murray, in the meantime, took his place as second in command. Twelve boats were prepared for the expedition, consisting of the ships’ launches and barges, the consul’s boat, a spare pinnace, and the captains’ gigs.

The next morning at daybreak the boats shoved off from the ships’ sides, saluted with loud cheers by those who remained on board. Captain Hemming and Murray went in their respective gigs, and Jack, who had command of the pinnace, took Tom with him, while Desmond accompanied Adair in one of the barges; the soldiers and the marines were distributed among the boats. The whole, including officers, bluejackets and soldiers, mustered upwards of 250 men. The two gigs, accompanied by the consul’s boat, went ahead. They had not proceeded far before they felt the strength of the current, for although the river was wide it was shallow, and so great was the mass of water coming down that it ran with the rapidity of a mill-stream. The men had to bend to their oars with might and main, and even then, the heavier boats in several places scarcely seemed, at times, to go ahead. Though the sun struck down with intense heat, the gallant bluejackets took no notice of it, nor relaxed their efforts, but hour after hour pulled on, encouraged by their officers. In some places, the water was so shallow that the boats could with difficulty move along, and frequently they had to shove off till another channel was found; undaunted, however, they laboured on till midday, when they landed at the most convenient spot to be found on the banks of the river to dine and recruit their exhausted strength.

An hour only was allowed for rest, and once more they embarked and toiled on as before.

The forest on both sides of the river came close down to the water’s edge, the lofty trees towering high above their heads, shutting out everything behind. Here and there a few clearings were seen, with huts and other buildings, tenanted by settlers, and now and then a native in his light canoe paddled by, but few inhabitants were seen; the views as they proceeded consisted chiefly of the tumbling waters and the forests as the hand of nature had left them. At length night approached; the captain gave the order to land, and the hardy crews, their strength taxed to the uttermost, pulled in quickly to a somewhat more open spot than was usually seen on the banks, where they might find room to bivouac for the night.