The Three Midshipmen

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“He cannot be up this tree,” remarked the first. “See! there is a monkey quietly eating a nut on one of the branches. There is no other tree near in which he could hide.”

After this the men hunted about on every side, and Jack hoped that they would then go away.

“He must still be near,” exclaimed one of them. “Sancho, do you climb that tree and look about you. You will soon find out where he is by the shaking of the bushes as he moves along. Up! man, up!”

Jack knew, by the voice which replied, that one of the negroes was climbing up. The monkey had finished his biscuit, and, liking it very much, came back for some more, not observing what was occurring below. Jack had now won his confidence; and by giving him a very little bit at a time kept the animal close to him. Up climbed the black. Jack knew that he could knock him down again with the butt end of his pistol, but if he did he would only hasten his own destruction, as the others would quickly find means to get hold of him. He felt that the black was close under him. He caught sight of his woolly pate working its way through, the leaves. “Now or never,” thought Jack. He seized the unsuspecting ape, and threw him down directly on the negro’s head. The monkey, as much astonished as anybody, laid hold of the woolly crop with his claws, and scratched and bit, chattering away with all his might.

“Fetish! fetish! fetish!” screamed out the negro, sliding down the tree a great deal faster than he had come up, coming down the latter part by the run, and reaching the ground more dead than alive; while the monkey clambered up again, and, not daring to approach Jack, took his seat at the end of a bough, chattering away in the greatest state of agitation.

Jack lay snug. He had hopes that none of the other blacks would attempt to climb the tree after the reception their companion had met with; and from what he heard them say he had great hopes that they really believed they had seen a fetish. The Spaniards too, though pretending to laugh at the superstition of the negroes, having no real religion of their own to supply its place, were very strongly impressed with the black man’s superstition, and would on no account have attempted to climb up the tree. Jack therefore began to hope that he should escape from his intending murderers, and he did not despair of ultimately getting back to his ship.

In a short time the Spaniards and negroes, uttering loud oaths at their ill luck in having lost one of their companions as well as their captive, set off once more; and Jack watched them as they worked their way through the brushwood to the eastward. He felt truly glad when they were no longer to be seen. He was now also in a hurry to be off. “Good-bye, Mr Quacko,” said he, turning to the monkey, and making him a profound bow, for Jack was the pink of politeness. “I am much obliged to you for the accommodation your tree has afforded me, and for the assistance you have rendered me, and if you will ever venture afloat I shall be very happy to see you on board our ship. Good-bye, old fellow, give us a paw.” He felt in a curiously excited state, and ready to talk any nonsense. Quacko, who thought he was to have some more biscuit, came near, but when he saw that there was none he hopped off again and chattered away louder than ever.

Jack now descended in the same way that he had got up. His first care was to cut a thick stick to serve as a weapon of defence, for he thought to himself, “If the tigers about here are so bold as to carry off a black man, they are just as likely to attack me.” He accordingly kept his eyes about him, and, steering as well as he could by the sun, he pushed away towards the north. He could not help expecting to see a tiger spring out towards him, and every now and then he was startled by a snake crawling across his path; while the cawing of parrots and parrakeets, and the chattering of monkeys, made him feel like one of those knights in fairy stories, who have to traverse a forest haunted by evil spirits, who do their utmost to turn him from his gallant purpose of rescuing a lovely princess from the enchanted castle in which she has been shut up. Jack, however, was not to be turned from his intention of getting down to the banks of the river. He forgot that he would have to cross through a mangrove swamp, unless he could hit upon one of the few paths used by the negroes for the purpose of crossing it. Night was now rapidly approaching. He saw that unless he would run a very great risk of serving as the supper of some hungry wild beast, he must get up into a tree and pass it there. He was getting very hungry also, and he had but a few scraps of the biscuit he had shared with the monkey. Still, as long as there was daylight, he was anxious to push on, for he was sure that the boats would be sent in to look for him the first thing in the morning, and he wanted to be near the river to signalise to them. So he pushed on, beating down the bushes with his thick stick. Many a snake, lizard, and other creeping or crawling thing hissed or croaked at him as he passed. At last he saw before him an open space. “Ah! now, at all events, I shall be able to push on rapidly,” he thought to himself. So he did, and he went on some way, when on a sudden he found himself in front of a pailing with some grotesque-looking figures carved in wood grinning above it, and within it a bamboo-leaf-covered hut, before which stood a remarkably big ugly-looking blackamoor. Jack looked at him, and he looked at Jack, and uttered some words which clearly were meant to express, “Hillo, youngster, where are you hurrying to?” Jack followed a very natural impulse, which was to run as fast as he could. Under other circumstances this might have been a wise proceeding, for he certainly could run faster than the black man, who was not only big but fat. He had scarcely begun to run when a piece of painted wood came whizzing through the air after him, which would certainly have knocked him down had it hit him. He dodged it, however; but the next moment he heard the gruff voice of the black hounding on a dog, and when he turned his head he saw a huge Spanish bloodhound leaping over the pailing, followed by the negro. To attempt to escape was now hopeless, so he ran forward, flourishing his stick in the hope of keeping the dog at bay. When the negro saw he was coming back he called the hound off him.

“For why you run so?” exclaimed the negro, who saw that he was an Englishman.

“For the same reason that a pig does, because I was in a hurry,” answered Jack, who saw that his best course was to put a good face on the matter.