Blue Jackets - The Log of the Teaser

George Manville Fenn

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• Publié par: enna
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 23
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blue Jackets, by George Manville Fenn This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Blue Jackets The Log of the Teaser Author: George Manville Fenn Illustrator: W.B. Handforth Release Date: May 4, 2007 [EBook #21299] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE JACKETS *** Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England George Manville Fenn "Blue Jackets" Chapter One. We Jolly Sailor Boys. “Come along, boys; look sharp! Here’s old Dishy coming.” “Hang old Dishipline; he’s always coming when he isn’t wanted. Tumble over.” We three lads, midshipmen on board HM clipper gunboat the Teaser, did “tumble over”—in other words, made our way down into the boat alongside—but not so quickly that the first lieutenant, Mr Reardon, who, from his slightly Hibernian pronunciation of the word discipline and constant references thereto had earned for himself among us the sobriquet of “Dishy,” did catch sight of us, come to the gangway and look down just as Double B had given the order to shove off, and was settling the strap of the large telescope he carried over his shoulder. I ought to tell you our names, though, in order of seniority; and it will make matters more easy in this log if I add our second handles or nicknames, for it was a habit among us that if a fellow could by any possibility be furnished with an alias, that furnishing took place. For instance, Bruce Barkins always went by the name of “Double B,” when, in allusion to the Bark in his family name, he was not called the “Little Tanner,” or “Tanner” alone; Harry Smith, being a swarthy, dark-haired fellow, was “Blacksmith;” and I, Nathaniel Herrick, was dubbed the first day “Poet”—I, who had never made a line in my life—and later on, as I was rather diminutive, the “Gnat.” One can’t start fair upon any voyage without preparations, so I must put in another word or two to tell you that there were two logs kept on board the good ship Teaser—one by the chief officer, and in which the captain often put down his opinion. This is not that, but my own private log; and I’m afraid that if the skipper or Lieutenant Reardon had ever seen it he would have had a few words of a sort to say to me—words which I would rather not have heard. It was a gloriously fine morning. We had been dodging about the coast on and off for a month on the look-out for piratical junks and lorchas, had found none, and were now lying at anchor in the mouth of the Nyho river, opposite the busy city of that name. Lastly, we three had leave to go ashore for the day, and were just off when the first lieutenant came and stood in the gangway, just as I have said, and the Tanner had told the coxswain to shove off. “Stop!” cried our tyrant loudly; and the oars which were being dropped into the pea-soupy water were tossed up again and held in a row. “Oh my!” groaned Barkins. “Eh?” cried the first lieutenant sharply. “What say?” and he looked hard at me. “I didn’t speak, sir.” “Oh, I thought you did. Well, young gentlemen, you are going ashore for the day. Not by my wish, I can assure you.” “No, sir,” said Smith, and he received a furious look. “Was that meant for impertinence, sir?” “I beg pardon, sir; no, sir.” “Oh, I’m very glad it was not. I was saying it was not by my wish that you are going ashore, for I think you would be all better employed in your cabin studying navigation.” “Haven’t had a holiday for months, sir,” said Barkins, in a tone of remonstrance. “Well, sir, what of that? Neither have I. Do you suppose that the discipline of Her Majesty’s ships is to be kept up by officers thinking of nothing else but holidays? Now, listen to me—As you are going—recollect that you are officers and gentlemen, and that it is your duty to bear yourselves so as to secure respect from the Chinese inhabitants of the town.” “Yes, sir,” we said in chorus. “You will be very careful not to get into any scrapes.” “Of course, sir.” “And you will bear in mind that you are only barbarians—” “And foreign devils, sir.” “Thank you, Mr Smith,” said the lieutenant sarcastically. “You need not take the words out of my mouth. I was going to say foreign devils—” “I beg pardon, sir.” ”—In the eyes of these self-satisfied, almond-eyed Celestials. They would only be too glad of an excuse to mob you or to declare that you had insulted them, so be careful.” “Certainly, sir.” “Perhaps you had better not visit their temples.” Smith kicked me. “Or their public buildings.” Barkins trod on my toe. “In short, I should be extremely guarded; and I think, on further consideration, I will go to the captain and suggest that you have halfa-dozen marines with you.” “Captain’s ashore, sir.” “Thank you, Mr Herrick. You need not be so fond of correcting me.” I made a deprecatory gesture. “I should have remembered directly that Captain Thwaites was ashore.” “Beg pardon, sir,” said Barkins, touching his cap. “Well, Mr Barkins.” “I hope you will not send any marines with us.” “And pray why, sir?” “We should have to be looking after them, sir, as much as they would be looking after us.” “Mr Barkins, allow me to assure you, sir, that the dishipline of the marines on board this ship is above reproach.” “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I only thought that, after being on board the ship so long, sir, they might be tempted, sir.” “I hope that the men of Her Majesty’s gunboat Teaser are above all temptations, Mr Barkins,” said the lieutenant harshly. “There, upon second thoughts, I will not send a guard. You can go.” The oars dropped with a splash on either side, and away we went among the hundreds of native boats of all kinds going up and down the river, and onward toward the crowded city, with its pagodas, towers, and ornamental gateways glittering in the morning sunshine, and looking wonderfully attractive to us prisoners, out for the day. “Don’t speak aloud,” I whispered to Smith, who was gathering himself up for an oration respecting the first