Blue Jackets Part 81

He dipped the baler in carefully, and brought it out dripping.

"Has anybody else drunk any?" I said.

"Oh yes, sir, all on us; and I says to you as I says to them, you shut your eyes, sir, and think you've been eating bloaters, or codfish, or fried sole. Then tip it down quick, and you'll says it's lovely."

"Ugh!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as I looked down into the baler, "why, it looks like a dose of rhubarb."

"Well, it do, sir, a little; but you're a spyling of it a deal by looking at it first. You shut your eyes, sir, as I said; me and my mates thought as it's good strong water with a deal o' what some people calls nootriment in it."

"None for me, thank you," I said, handing back the tin.

"Bring me some water, Mr Herrick, when you've done," said Mr Brooke from where he sat holding the tiller.

"Yes, sir," I said; and, holding the baler to my lips, I took a hearty, hasty draught, for it was cool and refres.h.i.+ng to my dry mouth and throat, and, that done, I refilled the baler and took it aft.

"Humph! rather muddy, Herrick," said Mr Brooke, smiling; "but one can't carry a filter about at a time like this."

He tossed off the water without hesitation, gave one of the men the tin to take back, and then altered the course of the boat a little, so as to hug the sh.o.r.e.

"We must not let the pirates suspect that we are following," he said.

"What are we going to do, Mr Brooke?" I said.

"You should never question your commanding-officer about his strategy,"

he replied, with a smile; and I was about to apologise, but he went on, "There's only one thing to do, my lad, keep them in sight, and I hope that at any time the _Teaser_ may appear. When she does, she will in all probability run by those junks without suspecting their nature, then we come in and let them know the truth."

"But suppose the _Teaser_ does not come into sight?"

"Then our task is clear enough. We must hang on to the track of the junks till we see where they go. Depend upon it, they have two or three rendezvous."

"Think they have telescopes on board?" I said.

"It is extremely doubtful; and if we keep Ching always well in sight, I don't suppose they will notice us. They will take us for a fis.h.i.+ng-boat, that's all."

By this time the sun was pouring down his beams with scorching violence, and we were glad to give up the tiller to one of the men, and get into the shelter of the cabin, just beyond which we found that Ching was busy at work plucking one of the geese.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"Velly good to loast."

"But we've got no fire."

"Go 'sh.o.r.e, make fi', loast all, and come back on board."

"Yes, it will be a good addition to our stock of provisions, Herrick,"

said Mr Brooke, smiling. "Your friend Ching is going to turn out a benefactor after all."

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

JACK ASh.o.r.e.

All was quiet on the junks, not a man being visible as we sailed out of the river and along the south sh.o.r.e of the estuary; and now, after a long examination, Mr Brooke declared that there couldn't be a doubt as to their being the ones we had seen up the branch river when we were in the trap.

"The rig is too heavy for ordinary traders, Herrick," he said; and he pointed out several peculiarities which I should not have noticed.

Ching had been watching us attentively, and Mr Brooke, who evidently wanted to make up now for his harsh treatment of the interpreter, turned to him quietly--

"Well, what do you say about it, Ching?"

The interpreter smiled.

"Ching quite su'e," he replied. "Seen velly many pilate come into liver by fancee shop. Ching know d'leckly. Velly big mast, velly big sail, go so velly fast catchee allee s.h.i.+p. You go waitee all dalk, burn all up."

"What! set fire to them?"

"Yes; velly easy. All asleep, no keepee watch like Queen s.h.i.+p. No light. Cleep velly close up top side, big wind blow; make lit' fire both junk and come away. Allee 'light velly soon, and make big burn."

"What! and roast the wretches on board to death?"

"Some," said Ching, with a pleasant smile. "Makee squeak, and cly 'Oh!

oh!' and burn all 'way like fi'wo'k. Look velly nice when it dalk."

"How horrid!" I cried.

"Not all bu'n up," said Ching; "lot jump ove'board and be dlown."

"Ching, you're a cruel wretch," I cried, as Mr Brooke looked at the man in utter disgust.

"No; Ching velly glad see pilate bu'n up and dlown. Dleadful bad man, bu'n s.h.i.+p junk, chop off head. Kill hundleds poo' good nicee people.

Pilate velly hollid man. Don't want pilate at all."

"No, we don't want them at all," said Mr Brooke, who seemed to be studying the Chinaman's utter indifference to the destruction of human life; "there's no room for them in the world, but that's not our way of doing business. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Ching understand, know. Ching can't talk velly quick Inglis, but hear evelyting."

"That's right. Well, my good fellow, that wouldn't be English. We kill men in fair fight, or take them prisoners. We couldn't go and burn the wretches up like that."

Ching shook his head.

"All velly funnee," he said. "Shoot big gun and make big hole in junk; knockee all man into bit; makee big junk sink and allee men dlown."

"Yes," said Mr Brooke, wrinkling up his forehead.

"Why not make lit' fire and bu'n junk, killee allee same?"

"He has me there, Herrick," said Mr Brooke.