The Three Midshipmen

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“He is not worth the trouble he costs us,” added the ferocious Spaniard who had spoken. “This knife of mine will settle him with a blow.”

“It is a pity we did not do it in the canoe, and save ourselves trouble,” growled out his companion, drawing his long knife from his belt.

Jack felt that his last moments had come. He, however, eyed his captors boldly, and tried to nerve himself for the expected stroke. A short time before, some villains of the same character as those into whose power he had fallen had murdered a young midshipman, whom they had found on board a prize they had retaken, and he knew that they would have no scruple about killing him. The blacks stood by, enjoying, apparently, his agony; for, brave as he was, it was a bitter thing thus, without cause, to be cruelly murdered in cold blood. No one spoke. Jack tried to offer up a prayer to Heaven, but, at such a moment, even to pray was difficult. His heart, though, was praying, and One who knows what is in the heart heard him. Suddenly there was a rustling of leaves, a crashing of boughs. A loud shriek was uttered, and a huge animal leaped through the brushwood, and, seizing one of the negroes, again bounded off into the thicket. The unfortunate wretch cried out piteously for help. The Spaniards and the negroes turned to pursue the wild beast. From the glimpse Jack had of it, he believed it to be a tiger. The negro who had been seized was the smallest of the party, and of light weight; and the savage brute was more accustomed to make his way through the tangled underwood than were his pursuers. On he went, bounding through the thicket, his miserable victim in vain crying for assistance. The rest pursued as fast as they could, apparently forgetting Jack altogether. They were soon hid from his sight by the trees. He had no wish to follow them, even had he possessed the power of so doing. His arms were bound, and before he could do anything he must contrive to get them loose. He tugged and tugged away frantically. He was afraid his captors would be back before he could get free, and execute their murderous threats. By what means he was to escape, he could not just then tell. The first thing was to obtain the use of his limbs. He worked away for life and death.

At last he twisted the rope round so that he could reach one of the knots with his teeth. He pulled away lustily. He found that he was slackening it. He listened for the shouts and cries of the pirates. He thought that their voices sounded louder and nearer again. He was every moment getting the ropes looser. One more tug, and his hands were at liberty. He struck out on either side to assure himself that he had the free use of them. He looked round; no one was in sight. His first impulse was to set off and run back to the coast, but then he recollected that he might be easily pursued, that it must be seven or eight miles off at least, as three or four hours had passed since he and his captors had left it. After a moment’s reflection he determined to find his way as soon as possible to the banks of the river. He was certain that the boats would be sent in to look for his party, and, by watching for them, he hoped to be able to make some signal to call their attention to himself. He still heard the voices of the pirates. A tall palm-tree was near. He thought that the safest plan would be to get to the top of it. He could easily hide himself among the wide-spreading leaves, and the Spaniards, believing that his arms were bound, would never think of looking there for him. He would also have the advantage of watching all that was going on below. He had seen blacks climb a tree with a band partly round their stem and partly round their waists. The rope he had just got clear of his arms would help him up in the same way. He rapidly fitted it, and, with knees and hands working away, up he went the smooth stem. He had got nearly to the top, when he heard a chattering, and looking up, he saw a very ugly face grinning down upon him. An ape had previous possession of his proposed stronghold. He was not to be daunted, however, but, swinging himself up on the bough, prepared to do battle for its possession. He had still a pistol in his belt, though it was not loaded. The pirates had forgotten to deprive him of it. He held it by the muzzle, and Master Quacko, who seemed to be a very sensible monkey, thought that it would be foolish to pick a quarrel with so well-armed a stranger. As Jack advanced, he retreated, till Jack reached the centre of the tree, where he could coil himself away without the possibility of any one below discovering him. He looked round before sitting down. Below him was a dense mass of foliage, with only here and there an opening. To the west, in the far distance, was the sea, looking bright and blue; to the east were ranges of mountains, the most remote evidently of considerable elevation; while to the north he caught a glimpse of the river, to his great satisfaction, not very far off. He could still hear the voices of the pirates, but he could not discover whether they had succeeded in rescuing the wretched negro from the fangs of the tiger. Meantime the monkey sat on the farther end of a branch watching him.

“I hope you have formed a favourable opinion of me, Master Quacko,” he said, looking at the ape, for even in the dangerous predicament in which he was placed he could not resist a joke.

“Quacko, quacko, quacko,” went the monkey, in a tone which Jack thought was friendly.

He felt about in his pockets, and found a piece of biscuit. He nibbled a bit, and then held it out to his companion. The ape drew near, at first, hesitatingly; Jack nibbled a little more of the biscuit. Quacko thought that it would all be gone if he did not make haste, so he made one or two more hops up towards Jack. Jack nibbled away, then once more held out the biscuit. The monkey made one spring, and nearly caught it, but Jack drew it back, that the animal might feel that it was given him. Then he held it out, and the ape took it quite gently, but ran off to the end of a bough, that he might examine this new sort of food, and eat it at his leisure.

The pirates had now found their way back to where they had left Jack. He could plainly hear them asking one another what could have become of him. They were under the tree in which he lay so snugly ensconced.

“He must have hid himself in the brushwood; he cannot be far off,” said one.

“If he had had his hands at liberty, I should say he would have got up one of these trees,” observed another. “Those English sailors can climb anything. I have seen them go up the side of a slippery rock without a hole in which to stick their nails.”