Won from the Waves

by William Henry Giles Kingston

We had been in the Indian Seas about three years, chiefly engaged in protecting British merchantmen from the pirates which swarmed there. The boats had been sent away in chase of three or four of their craft, cut off from a piratical fleet which were endeavouring to make their escape along shore. My friend Jack belonged to the second cutter. Night came on, and the frigate stood after the boats, making signals for their return. Three of the boats at length got alongside, but the second cutter did not appear. The weather changed—a heavy gale sprang up, and we were compelled to stand out to sea. As soon as the weather moderated, we returned and cruised up and down the coast, the boats being sent on shore at various places; but nothing could be seen of the second cutter, and we had every reason to fear that the officer in charge of her and all hands, had either been killed or fallen into the power of the pirates. I was very much cut up at the loss of my kind friend, who had indeed acted like a father towards me. The captain sent for me into his cabin, and expressed his regret at the loss of my old protector.

“I wish to make all the amends I can to you, my lad,” he said. “As your conduct has been thoroughly to my satisfaction since you came on board, and as there is now a vacancy by the death of Mr Watson (the midshipman lost in the boat), I will place you on the quarter-deck and give you the rating of a midshipman.”

I thanked him very much; but I remember saying, “I would rather old Jack were alive though.”

“I appreciate your feeling, my lad,” he answered; “but even if he does return I won’t disrate you, and I will see how we can best manage to get you an outfit.”

Thus by the loss of my honest friend, whom I greatly lamented, I got my first step on the ratlines.

After a further search for the missing boat we left the coast, and soon afterwards going to Calcutta received our orders to return home.

Your uncle has been my friend ever since. He obtained his promotion on our arrival in England, and was at once appointed to the command of the Ariel, corvette, in which I accompanied him to the West Indies, where we were actively engaged, and I had there the opportunity I had so much wished for of performing two or three acts which gained me credit. I was still more anxious than ever to make a name for myself, as since the loss of my protector, Jack Headland, I had no possible clue by which to discover my parents with the exception of the gold chain, which I wore round my neck, and which I still preserved. A small bundle containing a child’s clothes and shoes, and the figure of an Indian tumbler, which were found in Jack’s kit, I felt sure had belonged to me. Whether or not they are sufficient to identify me I am very doubtful. Not wishing to throw a chance away I deposited them for safety with my agents in London.

Such was Headland’s history, and Harry assured him at its close that he always knew he must be a gentleman by birth, as he was in every other possible way.

“I heartily wish,” he said, “that you may some day find out to whom you belong. Whoever they are you may depend on it they will welcome you joyfully. Why there goes eight bells. Our watch has indeed passed quickly away.”

The two midshipmen were relieved and went below. They had scarcely, as they supposed, closed their eyes, when the boatswain’s rough voice and shrill pipe roused them up with a cry of “All hands on deck!” followed by the quick roll of the drum, the well known beat to quarters.