The Black Bar Part 17

He seized one with each hand by the sleeves of their duck frocks, and dragged them forward; but in an instant, they had s.n.a.t.c.hed themselves free, and returned to Mark, speaking softly in their own tongue, and with a good deal of gesticulation, till Mark ended Bob's perplexity by pointing to the lower deck, when they walked obediently after the mids.h.i.+pman right away to the forecastle hatch, and went below.

Five minutes later Bob was back again by his messmate's side.

"That's just my luck," he said, sourly. "I beat the bush and somebody else catches the bird. Oh, here's Mr Russell coming; we shall have the whole quarter-deck on the sick list directly."

But all the same Bob ran across to offer the second lieutenant his arm, as he walked feebly toward where Mark was seated, and eagerly stretched out his hand to grasp that of the young brother officer who had shared the peril of what had so nearly been their last adventure.

Mark heaved a sigh, but it was one full of satisfaction as they two sat quietly talking together, with first one and then another to come up and utter a few words of congratulation; and when sailors and marines pa.s.sed and saluted with a friendly smile, there was no mistaking the popularity of the two convalescents.

Meanwhile the _Nautilus_ glided along due south, and there was a good deal of speculation as to her next destination, till Mr Staples came up, and in the conversation which ensued, announced that they were to search for a river about sixty miles along the coast, one which was not marked down in any chart, but was supposed to exist, and to be a stronghold of those engaged in the slave trade.

It was getting toward evening, and the two invalids had pleaded for the doctor's permission to stay longer on deck, for the soft air was delicious, and gave them fresh strength at every breath. They were very silent as they sat watching with keen delight the varied business of the s.h.i.+p, doubly interesting to them now that they could not take part in it, when the wind began to drop, and the course of the vessel to grow more sluggish.

There was nothing for the men to do, and permission had been given to a party of them, just towards sundown, to take the grains forward and try to harpoon some of the swift fish playing about their bows in the golden water; but instead of going and perching himself somewhere to take part in the sport, Bob Howlett hung about the chair of his brother middy.

"Why don't you go and join in the fis.h.i.+ng, Howlett?" said Mr Russell.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It'll be quite dark directly, and I was wis.h.i.+ng, sir, for something to happen to make me an invalid."

"Because you have such an affection for Doctor Whitney's doses?" said Mark, laughing.

"No, so you needn't make nasty remarks," replied Bob. "I thought so, because middies who have been a little out of sorts get all kinds of attentions, and those who are quite well get bullied by first lieutenants, and are spoken to by captains as if they weren't worth their salt, as Mr Staples calls it."

"I shall have to report Mr Robert Howlett's insubordinate language,"

said Mark's fellow-invalid, when all at once there came a cry of rage, followed by a loud shouting somewhere forward. Then more cries, and confusion, and directly after there was a desperate scuffle going on by the forecastle hatch.

"What's that?" cried the first lieutenant; and in a few minutes, after a desperate fight, the two blacks were dragged forward, pushed by four of the men, and held by main force while the captain, who had hurried on deck, called for an explanation.

This was given by a dozen voices at once, but in obedience to a command there was silence, in which the heavy panting breathing of the blacks could be plainly heard.

"Now then," said the captain, "one man speak. You, Dance, step forward.

What does this mean?"

"Beg pardon, sir," said the c.o.xswain of the first cutter; "some of the lads got skylarking and playing tricks with the two black hands."

"_Who_ did?" said the captain, sternly.

"Beg pardon, sir, didn't see, sir, but it made the two n.i.g.g.e.rs wild, and one got a knife and the other a marlin-spike; and if they hadn't been held there'd ha' been murder done, and--"

"Man overboard!" was yelled from right forward where the fis.h.i.+ng had been going on, and following a loud splas.h.i.+ng from just beneath the s.h.i.+p's counter came that most thrilling of cries to send the blood coursing back even from the strongest man's cheek.

"Boat, boat--Help--help!"

In tropic waters just as the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the rapid darkness was coming on.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

DANCE MAKES MISTAKES.

"He's tangled with the line," came in a clear voice, which Mark recognised as Bob's, and a shudder ran through him.

It needs all the strict discipline and long training to prevent confusion even on board a man-of-war, in a time of emergency. Here the disposition of the men was to run to the s.h.i.+p's side, and shout words of advice, but a sharp command or two brought the crew back to order, and the men rushed to the boat nearest to the spot where the man was struggling in the water.

It was a fine, smart young sailor, who had been standing on a stay below the bowsprit, holding on with one hand, and straining out to aim a good throw at a large fish gliding beneath the bows. He had darted the harpooning "grains" or trident, struck the fish deeply, but from inexperience he had not carefully arranged the line attached to the staff. The result being that there was a sudden rush on the part of the fish as soon as it was struck, a ring of the line was tightened round the man's arm in a firm tangled knot, and he was jerked from his hold and dragged down into the deep water for some distance before he rose again, struggling wildly and calling for help. He would get his lips above water for a moment or two, and then be dragged under again. Then he would rise to the surface and shriek for help in tones which thrilled his hearers.

"Quick, my lads!" roared the first lieutenant. "Bless the man! Why can't he cut himself loose?"

There was a gurgling cry and silence, as the wheels of the falls chirruped and the boat began to descend; but at that moment there was a fresh excitement plainly seen from where Mark had tottered to the bulwark, and stood looking over the side at what seemed to be a moving shadow, far down under the surface, jerked about in a most extraordinary manner.

He looked round sharply, for there was a loud cry, a babble of tongues, and the shouting of fresh orders, and simultaneously a life-buoy splashed in the sea, near where the man had been dragged down; the boat was descending and a white figure was seen to leap on to the bulwarks after a desperate struggle to free itself from those who had held it, and plunge head-first into the darkening waters.

It was the bigger of the two blacks, who had in his insane rage taken advantage of the confusion and excitement to escape from those who held him prisoner and leap overboard, to swim for his liberty.

The loud cries of excitement increased at this fresh development of the trouble. Two were overboard now; and one of the men who had held the black had been hurled upon the deck, rose to his knees holding a wrenched arm.

"He'll be drowned now," growled the man; "and sarve him right. He's as strong as a hox."

Mark saw the white-clothed figure strike the surface with a heavy plunge, and go down, make a carve of light beneath the water, and rise again to shake his black head and strike out for the open sea before him, insensible for the moment to everything but the idea of getting away. He, poor fellow, in his blind ignorance, knew no more, but before he had taken many strokes there was a wild gurgling shriek behind him, as the sailor's head appeared, and the black stopped, turned, and swam back in time to seize the drowning man and hold him up just as he was dragged under again, the boat which had just kissed the water being still far-away, the _Nautilus_ having glided on.

The natural result was that as the fish gave its fierce jerking tug, and the black held on to the sailor, both were dragged under; but grasping the difficulty, the black seized the line and made a desperate s.n.a.t.c.h at it, with sufficient strength to detach the grains, and they both rose again, with the rescuer swimming strongly, the rescued half drowned, helpless and unable to raise a hand to save himself.

"Hold on! Coming! Swim this way," shouted the officer in charge of the boat; and as Mark looked aft at the actors in this scene, all growing more distant moment by moment, he heard Bob Howlett's shrill voice plainly in spite of the distance,--"Hold on, Soup. Coming."

The words sounded incongruous--ridiculous--but the voice influenced the black, who turned and swam slowly toward them, trying to support his charge.

"Can you see, Vandean?" said Mr Russell, who had crept to the bulwarks and stood beside the mids.h.i.+pman.

"Yes, but how slow the boat is."

"They are keeping afloat, then--swimming?"

"I think one of them is," said Mark in a whisper.

"Hah!" sighed the young lieutenant, "my eyes are dim and weak. How near is the boat now?"

"Oh, it must be fifty yards away, and they're going down. The men don't try."

"It seems so to us, but they must be rowing their best. Are they getting near now?"

"I don't think so, and--and I can't see anybody. Oh! how horrible.

Pull, pull!"

"Hush?" said Russell. "I can't see, but the boat must be between us and the men. How was it all?"

"I don't quite understand, but the black seemed to try and save the man overboard. Don't--don't speak! I want to see. Oh, if I only had a gla.s.s. Mine's below."

"Can you see them now?" said Russell, in a faint whisper.