The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

As may be supposed, a careful search was made for ants’ nests, rattle-snakes’ holes, and the abodes of any other creatures likely to disturb them. A larger number of sentries than usual were also posted round the camp and directed to keep a vigilant watch, while one of the gigs under charge of Higson, with Needham as coxswain, was sent on some way ahead to keep a lookout for the enemy, should they take it into their heads to descend the stream, and make a night attack on the camp.

A pleasant supper was made on shore, though singing and loud talking were forbidden, lest any stragglers from the fort might hear them and give notice of their approach. The thick forest, however, effectually screened their fires, and the smoke could not be seen at night.

Mr Wilmot spoke hopefully of the work before them. He had little doubt that the Nicaraguan commander would yield immediately he saw the force brought against him, though he probably at present did not believe that such heavy boats as theirs could be forced up the stream. Mr Halliday was more silent than was his wont. Some of his friends inquired what was the matter. “I have felt the heat very great during the day,” he answered; “but I dare say that when our work is accomplished, and we are pulling down the stream, I shall recover my spirits.”

Mr Wilmot had kindly invited the three midshipmen to take up their quarters on board his boat, having fitted up a place amidships for them; here, at all events, they might be free from the ants; and as to the mosquitoes, they were nearly inured to them.

At an earlier hour than usual all hands not on the watch went to sleep, with the exception of those in Mr Wilmot’s boat. He and his friend sat up some time talking together, but what they said neither Tom nor his companions could hear, as they themselves were soon lulled to sleep by the loud rushing of the strong current which swept by the boat.

Tom was suddenly awakened by a loud cry and an exclamation from Mr Wilmot, “Where is Halliday?” and the next instant he exclaimed, “Good heavens! he is overboard! I must save him!” and before he could have had time for thought, he himself plunged into the boiling waters, and swam towards his friend, who was being carried rapidly down by the current. The midshipmen being aroused, Tom, who saw what had happened, was about to plunge into the stream to try and assist the consul, when Gordon, more prudent, held him back, exclaiming, “You will be drowned, my dear fellow, if you do.” Tom had happily thus more time than Mr Wilmot had taken, to reflect on the fearful danger he would run. Their cries awoke Captain Hemming, who, immediately arousing his men, slipped his cable and pulled down the river, in the hope of rescuing his drowning friends.

The whole camp and those in the boats were now awake, and on learning what had happened looked anxiously out for the return of the captain’s gig, the only hope being that he might discover and pick up the two gentlemen before the waters had overwhelmed them.

The time went by, and every one felt that their gallant leader and his crew were running great danger in venturing down the stream at night. Several of the officers indeed expressed their fears that his boat might strike against a snag, or be dashed on the rocks, and all on board lose their lives. Among those on shore several endeavoured to make their way along the bank, but were soon stopped by the impenetrable jungle, and compelled to return. No other boat could venture to slip her moorings. Adair had command of the sternmost one of the squadron. His old shipmate, Ben Snatchblock, who was with him, roused by the shouts of those ahead, as he sprung up caught sight of a person rapidly carried astern of the boat. “I’ll try and save him whoever he is,” he exclaimed; and before Adair could warn him of his danger, he plunged overboard into the boiling water. Though a powerful man and a bold swimmer, he in vain attempted to overtake the person he had seen passing and struggling for life. Whoever it might be it was the same to him. On he went, and just as he fancied that he was about to succeed, the person he had gone to save sank, drawn down by an eddy, which very nearly sucked him also into its vortex. “He’s gone, poor fellow, be’s gone!” his voice was heard exclaiming, though he could not be seen.

Directly afterwards the captain’s gig passed Adair’s boat. She was also soon lost to sight. Adair hailed and told them to look out for Ben; but whether or no they had succeeded in picking up the gallant fellow he could not tell, and with the rest was long left in doubt as to what had happened.

The accident had caused all caution to be forgotten, and Murray and the other officers expected that their cries and shouts must have been heard by any scouts which might have been sent out from the fort. He therefore warned the sentries to be on the alert, and ordered the men to keep their arms ready for immediate action.