Part 9 (2/2)
Hi, presto!
As if by magic, the imposing array of 'sucking bluejackets' whom I had just been gazing upon with a sort of personal admiration from the fact of my being one of their number, an admiration which was tempered by a slight feeling of awe of the discipline that controlled them, melted away almost noiselessly, like those Arabs who 'folded their tents'
according to the poem, the boys being all in their bare feet, and their patter along the deck and down the hatchways not making any sound above a faint shuffling; and soon this was drowned by the eldritch screeching of our friends the seagulls circling round on the wing in their wonted manner, and poising themselves anon in mid-air above the s.h.i.+p, looking down to see whether it was dinner-time yet aboard, and there was a chance of any stray sc.r.a.ps being chucked over the side from the 'gas.h.i.+ng-tub,' or waste b.u.t.t in which the refuse of our meals was thrown on the lower deck.
The new boys of both watches were told to stand by, by one of the seaman-instructors; and so, instead of racing down below with our older comrades, Mick and I, with the other nine who had lately joined, remained on the fore part of the deck.
”These boys, sir,” said the instructor, touching respectfully his cap as he advanced towards the officer of the watch, who stood on the quarter- deck, a thin grey-haired old chap, whom I subsequently learnt was the gunner, though I never had the pleasure of seeing him before, ”haven't been over the masthead yet, sir.”
”All right,” replied the gentleman addressed, saluting the instructor in his turn; the politeness and courteous deference paid on board all s.h.i.+ps belonging to Her Majesty's Service from one officer to another, be his rank high or low, being one of the best lessons in manners that man or boy could have afloat or ash.o.r.e, especially the latter. ”Carry on!”
Permission, accordingly, being granted for the ordeal to which we were about to be subjected, the smart seaman-instructor came back to where we were drawn up in single file forwards.
”Now, my lads,” he said, ”you haven't any of you pa.s.sed through your sea baptism yet, I think. Ever been up aloft, eh?”
He had stopped in front of 'Ugly,' whose face yet bore traces of our recent combat, although the cuts on his lip and nose had healed up; and, indeed, I couldn't well boast, for one of my eyes had a singularly picturesque greeny-yellowy look still about it.
”Hoi?” exclaimed 'Ugly,' in his yokel fas.h.i.+on. ”I dunno wot yer means, zur.”
”Well, I'll soon tell you,” rejoined the instructor. ”I mean, have you ever been over the masthead?”
”No-a,” said 'Ugly,' staring sheepishly at him; and then, as he followed his questioner's eye, on it glancing up aloft, he added, ”Doos yer mean oop there, zur?”
”Aye.”
”No-a, zur.”
”Then, you'll have to go up now,” said the instructor, in a tone that showed he intended to be obeyed. ”Lads, attention!”
We all drew ourselves up, 'Ugly' included, as rigid and woodeny as those strange figures that are supposed to represent the patriarchs Shem, Ham, and j.a.pheth seen in the Noah's arks of our childhood.
”Boys,” cried the instructor in a louder key, pointing as he spoke, ”you see the mainmast there?”
We signified a.s.sent as well as we were able to do without losing our rigidity or speaking, which latter is strictly against rules when an officer is giving any order, except when an answer is specially demanded.
Noticing, however, that we all looked in the right direction, the seaman-instructor was satisfied with this reply; but really there was no reason why he should not be so, for if we had not seen the tall spar that he pointed out we must all have been blind!
At all events, he was satisfied; and that is all that concerns us at present.
”Now, boys,” he continued, ”you've got to go over the top of that there masthead, climbing right up the rigging on the port side, and coming down to starboard. Let me see which of you will be first to get over the crosstrees, and woe betide the last! Away you go, now, the lot o'
ye! 'Way aloft!”
It was child's play to me; for, as I told Larrikins the first day I was on board, when he was trying to 'pull my leg' with his yarns of the mountainous seas he met in the Channel cruising in the _Martin_, 's.h.i.+nning up the rigging' was no novelty to me.
Before you could say 'Jack Robinson' I had quickly sprung into the lee rigging; and, clambering up the ratlines and then outward by the futtock shrouds, I gained the top long ere half the rest had started.
<script>