Chapter 45 | Huzza! | Blue Jackets

By the time the Teaser’s boats had picked up those of the wretches who wished to be saved, I had learned from Mr Brooke how, when the boat struck, he and the others had clung to her and been swept along through the channel, the fierce current carrying them round the point, and at last into comparative shelter, where finally they reached the shore right on the far side of the island.

Thence, after a great deal of climbing, they made their way toward the channel to come in search of us; but they had to fly for their lives, finding that the island was in possession of the wrecked crew of the junk.

They lay in hiding all that day and the next. That evening, in answer to signals, a fishing-boat picked them up, half-dead with thirst, and by the use of a few Chinese words and signs, and the showing of money, the men were prevailed upon to take them up to the river, where, to Mr Brooke’s great delight, he found the Teaser at her old anchorage uninjured, she having escaped the fury of the typhoon, just passing into the river before it came down in its full violence.

Captain Thwaites had been anxiously awaiting the return of the boat from up the river, for, in spite of all inquiries, he had been unable to get any tidings of her till just as Mr Brooke arrived, to find the owners of the boat he had taken, on board making application for payment.

They were dismissed with a promise of full restitution, and, while steam was being got up, a boat was lowered, the floating grating which acted as a buoy found, the cutter recovered, and then the Teaser sailed for the river’s mouth and came in search of us, Mr Brooke still clinging to the hope that we had escaped. In the offing the two junks were seen and recognised, evidently on their way to pick up their shipwrecked friends.

First of all, the strong party of blue jackets and marines was landed, while the Teaser went round the back of the island, to reach the channel and take the pirate junks by surprise.

Thorough success, as I have shown, attended the manoeuvre, and soon after we were on board, where, after a few congratulatory words from our busy captain, I found Barkins and Smith eager to welcome me back, and quite ready to forgive me for having what they called “such a glorious lot of adventures,” on account of the share they had had in the sinking and blowing up of the two pirate junks.

“Yes,” said Barkins, after I had told my experiences on the island, “that was all very well; but oh, my lad, you should have been here when we attacked those junks! It was glorious—wasn’t it, Blacksmith?”

“Lovely! But don’t say any more to the poor fellow; it will only make him mad.”

We returned to the river, where our prisoners were landed, and we three lads had more than one spell on shore before we left that port, notably being in the city on the night of the Feast of Lanterns; but though we had several more brushes with pirates, they were all trivial affairs with small junks, the destruction of the last three being the crowning point of our achievements. Indeed, this and the sinking of another in search of which, upon excellent information, Captain Thwaites had suddenly gone after we had set out on our shooting expedition, and in which engagement Smith assured me he had greatly distinguished himself, were such blows to the piratical profession that its pursuers were stunned for the time.

We remained upon the coast for another six months, and then: were ordered home, to the great delight of everybody but Ching, who parted from us all very sadly.

“You think Mr Leardon like to take Ching see Queen Victolia?” he said to me one day in confidence.

“I’m afraid not,” I replied seriously.

“Ching velly solly,” he said. “Plenty lich man now! plenty plize-money! Ching wear silk evely day in Queen Victolia countly. You no tink captain take Ching?”

“I’m sure he would not,” I said.

“Ching velly good interpleter; velly useful man.”

“Very; you’ve been a splendid fellow, Ching!”

He smiled, and a fresh idea struck him.

“You tink Queen Victolia like Ching teach lit’ plince and plincess talk Chinese?”

Again I was obliged to damp his aspirations, and he sighed.

“What shall you do when we are gone, Ching?” I said.

“Open fancee shop again. Sell muchee tea, basket, shell, culios, fo’ Inglis people. Glow tow-chang velly long. Wait till Mr Hellick come back with jolly sailo’ boy, fight pilate.”

And with that understanding, which was doomed never to be fulfilled, we parted.

For the next morning the men were singing—

“Huzza! we’re homeward bou-ou-ound. Huzza! we’re homeward bound.”

And homeward we all—including Tom Jecks, who soon recovered from his injury—returned in safety, HMS Teaser steaming gently one summer day into Plymouth Sound; and this is her log—my log—written by a boy. But that was years ago, and I’m an old boy now.