Part 14 (1/2)

This was done, the heavy stream anchor, which was always kept ready on the forecastle in case of any such emergency, being eased down by means of its shank painter and the fish tackle until it rested comfortably across the sternsheets of the boat; while another stout hawser accompanying it, was coiled round the whole interior of the boat on top of the thwarts.

The cutter then pulled off to about the same distance at which the kedge had been dropped, though more on the quarter of the brig than dead aft; and, the end of the second hawser being brought aboard like the first, all hands set to work with a cheery song, as we had no drum and fife band with us in the brig--for, though not strictly according to naval discipline, the commander permitted the licence so as to make the fellows move round all the smarter.

”Yo--ho, my lads!” bawled out old Jellybelly, quite in his element, I believe, as he liked to hear his own voice. ”Round she comes! Heave and paul with a yo--heave--ho!”

”By jingo, she's moving!” Mr Gadgett quivered out, more excited than I had ever seen the grey-haired gunner before. ”Another turn or two, my lads, and she'll be afloat!”

His excitement communicated itself to the commander aft, who was looking over the stern and anxiously watching the water, to see if our rudder, which was kept amids.h.i.+ps, made any ripple on the surface; though, wide awake, our officer was keeping a keen eye, too, on the manilla hawser attached to the stream anchor, which was in such a ticklish state of tension from the strain that it was singing out like a fiddle-string.

”Hurrah!” he cried a moment after. ”She _is_ moving, Mr Gadgett.

Stand by there, furrud, to veer off the cable of the port bower!”

Tramp, tramp, went the fellows round the capstan; turn by turn, in came the slack of the warp; and then in another five minutes or so, with a harsh grating sound as her keel slid off a rocky bit of the shoal on which she had rested, the gallant little _Martin_ was afloat again!

Almost at the same instant as the dancing motion of her hull told us that the brig had been restored to her native element, the commander, wis.h.i.+ng to get away as soon as he could from the dangerous neighbourhood of the Brambles, gave an order to the boatswain's mate standing near him, who instantly put his whistle to his lips and blew a shrill call whose import we all well knew.

”Watch, make sail!” then shouted the commander, rubbing his hands with much satisfaction. ”Topmen, aloft and loose the topsails! Let go your topsail halliards! Man the head sheets!”

While these directions were being carried out, the port bower was weighed; when the jib being hoisted and the topsails dropped and sheeted home, the brig paid off on the starboard tack, picking up the kedge and stream anchor as soon as we fetched over them in rounding-to.

The cutter, which had remained alongside ready for further use if required, was then hoisted up to the davits; and the _Martin_, spreading her wings again properly, made off towards Cowes just as one of the Government tugs, which had been despatched to our a.s.sistance from the dockyard on the receipt of a telegraphic message from Hurst Castle telling of our mishap, came round the corner of Stokes Bay, puffing away at a fine rate, and throwing up a cloud of black smoke that spoilt the beauty of the landscape, and shut out everything to leeward from view.

”Begorrah!” said Mick, from whom the fine fuss and fright and flurry had banished all traces of his previous illness, making him as right as ninepence again, ”they're jist in toime to be too late, sure!”

Our commander exchanged signals with the people on the tug, however, telling them that their services were not required, though thanking them for the help they would have rendered us; and the wind, which had been s.h.i.+fting about to all parts of the compa.s.s while we had been ash.o.r.e on the sand ledge, now veering to the south'ard and west'ard, we bore away before it with squared yards up the Solent towards Spithead, where we anch.o.r.ed for the night, almost in the fairway, abreast of Southsea Castle.

Next morning we came into harbour, when a dockyard diver was sent down to see if the brig had sustained any damage from her pranks of the previous day; but, all being found staunch and sound below, only the copper on her keel having received a little extra polish, we were ordered to go out again into the Channel and continue our cruise.

The most noteworthy feature of this, excepting, of course, the setting and reefing and taking in sail on board a moving vessel, instead of practising all these merely in dumb-show as had been our wont in a stationary s.h.i.+p like the _Saint Vincent_, was the exercise we had with the old-fas.h.i.+oned little muzzle-loading truck guns, which were mounted on wooden carriages of the sort only seen in the old _Victory_ nowadays, with which the _Martin_ was provided.

It was great fun.

The boys in turn detailed to act as crews of the guns used to be numbered off in regular fas.h.i.+on, according to the custom of the service, just as if they were grown men and working on board a s.h.i.+p going into action.

Number 1, who was the captain of the gun, stood in the rear; Number 2, on the right of the former, but clear of the recoil, as if to teach one that prominent and distinguished positions have their drawbacks as well as their advantages; Number 3 stood close up to the s.h.i.+p's side, by the breeching of the gun on the left; and Number 4 occupied a similar post on the right, while Numbers 5 and 6 stood in the rear of 3 and 4, and so on.

Through the energetic instructions of Mr Gadgett, who was a most painstaking officer, and spared no trouble to teach us our duties properly, we had learnt when ash.o.r.e on our drill-ground at Haslar to master all the necessary manipulation of our 'little barkers,' as the gunner used to call them, learning how to cast them loose from their las.h.i.+ngs, run them back for loading, and prepare them for firing, all in similar dumb-show fas.h.i.+on to our sail-drill experiences in the old s.h.i.+p; and now, when we were able to load with real powder and shot, and make Mr Gadgett's 'barkers' bark in earnest, the interest of our gunnery drill was increased tenfold.

It was splendid work; and from the first order, 'Cast loose!' to the last, 'Fire!' it was exciting to the last degree, all of us sponging, loading, and running out the little guns in the highest of spirits, as if we were fighting the Battle of Trafalgar over again, and throwing shot and sh.e.l.l into any number of French and Spanish three-deckers alongside!

We had hard work sometimes to check ourselves from uttering a wild cheer when the order was given to pull the trigger and the gun went off with a grand 'Bang!' sending a cloud of white smoke inboard from its muzzle as its fiery iron messenger leaped forwards and splashed into the sea, either ahead or abeam as the case might be, throwing up a tall column of water on its first plunge that was like a sort of fountain, while it skipped onward, playing 'ducks and drakes' on the top of the waves, until it sank out of sight in the distance, its energy exhausted.

We often used to rig out a target, made up out of an old rum puncheon, fixed on a raft of spars, which we fired at as at a mark, making very good practice, too, after a bit.

Mick soon became one of our best shots, Mr Gadgett complimenting him on having the sharpest eye on board the brig, my chum often, when acting as Number 1, who you must know invariably sights the gun, succeeding in smas.h.i.+ng our improvised target all to pieces.

”How is it, Donovan,” asked the gunner on one of these occasions, ”you have such a steady aim? Why, boy, you haven't been at it very long.

Your eye is like a hawk, by jingo!”