by T. T. Jeans
*CHAPTER XV*
*The Retreat*
Old B.-T. Wins--A Hard Retreat--A Case of Speed--A Race against the Fog--Hand-to-hand Fighting--Captain Marshall is Wounded--The Captain's Life Attempted--Round the Fire--Ford is Indignant--On Board Again
_Written by Captain Marshall, Royal Marine Light Infantry_
Old "B.-T." and I extended our people, ran down towards the paddyfields, crawled and dodged across them, and prepared for the "do-or-diebusiness" up the farther slope.
It was a bit of a rush, and old "B.-T." looked "bored" when we met againat the top. The blighters had never given us a show, but had clearedout, pretty well most of them. A few had run into "B.-T.'s" little lotby accident, and been polished off, that was all.
I don't suppose that they were expecting us to go at 'em so soon.
The Maxim came along after us, and we helped Langham up with it, andspread ourselves out, to cover the retreat of the Skipper with the mainbody, which came along almost immediately in a long line, slowlytrailing down the side of the hill from the house. We could see thatthey were carrying the wounded, and they had got halfway across thepaddy fields before the Chinese seemed to "tumble" to the fact that wewere clearing out, and began to pour back from the outskirts of the townand open fire at them.
"B.-T." and I managed to keep them in check, and the Skipper got acrosswithout any casualties, "Blucher" coming galloping up the hill, wagginghis long whip of a tail when he spotted me.
But by this time a number of Chinese had crept along behind the banksintersecting the paddy fields, and we couldn't get at them with riflefire. They were right in between us and the walled house, cutting offParkinson's retreat.
We could hear that he was having trouble--he was firing veryheavily--and directly the Skipper and his little lot had got acrosssafely, we saw his people begin leaving the house and falling back downthe slope. We saw them turning and firing back, and retiring byalternate companies, and natives were swarming round the house and amongthe trees at the top of the ridge. We knew that they must be having apretty warm time of it.
Those fellows who had crept round their rear began firing at them too;but one of their companies simply charged down at them, broke rightthrough, and, opening out to left and right, swept them on one side.They were the _Omaha's_ men. We could tell that by the peculiar noisethey made and by their uniform. Langham was able to let rip into theChinese as they sprinted out of reach of the Yankee bayonets, andhurried them along "pretty considerable", as Parkinson told meafterwards, we were also able to stop the people swarming down thatridge after him, and gave him time to bring along his Maxim and Coltguns, and to extricate himself from rather an awkward position. He madea wide sweep, so as not to mask our fire, and came across; but I sawthat he had to carry four or five men, who had been knocked over in theopen, and they delayed him much.
That is always the rotten part of a retreat, especially when fightingsemi-barbarous natives. One dare not leave the wounded behind, and eachone who cannot walk requires two able-bodied men to carry him.
From where "B.-T." and I were standing, I should think that we could seeat least seven hundred Chinamen, and away on the left, we could see anynumber more hurrying: from the town.
"Buck up, old chap! Don't look so blooming bored!" and I slapped him onthe back. "We'll have our work cut out in the next half-hour, when weare doing rearguard."
"Keep your beastly fists to yourself," he growled.
Old "Blucher" had bounded back to the Captain directly our Maxim hadbegun firing.
"Old Lest" and his little lot were in the rear of our hill--at thebottom of it--waiting for Parkinson to go on past them, farther back.We saw Parkinson drop his wounded people and sweep past and away towardstwo small rising bits of ground, about four hundred yards in the rear,and the Skipper, picking up his wounded, followed slowly.
Then came our turn as rearguard.
My Christopher Columbus! we had about all we could do to keep thebeggars back. The heathen Chinee was simply seeing "red", and camecharging across the paddy fields, rushing up towards the slope in frontof us, and getting round both our flanks. They thought that they'd gotus in a hole, I expect, and they spared a couple of hundred fellows tosneak away to the right, behind some banks, hoping to catch the Skipperin the open. They would have done it too, and got right on top of himbefore he could have spotted them, had not "B.-T." taken half hiscompany down the hill at a run, and posted himself behind a couple ofbroken-down huts and a bit of another bank, and given 'em "beans" asthey went doubling along below him. It was really a race who should getto the bank first, and old "B.-T." won.
They were now actually crawling up the hill in front of my chaps,dodging among the "scrub" and among the grave mounds, and they weregetting round my left rear as well. There must have been four or fivehundred of them, and they were taking cover so well, that it made itconfoundedly difficult to hit them.
Langham caught a few of them in the open with the Maxim; but it's such ajolly extravagant kind of weapon as regards ammunition, and puts a dozencartridges into a chap before another can take his place, and get hisown share.
Young Withers was in command of the other half of "B.-T.'s" company ofbluejackets on my left. I sent one of my chaps across to him to tellhim to retire, and he began to fall back steadily. He was keeping hishead, but looking very white. Langham's Maxim section began to haultheir gun back, and everyone was a bit flurried. Two men got bowledover. One sprang straight up, with one hand clawing the air, and I knewthat he was shot through the heart. I've seen a good many men do thatin my time, and they all had been shot through the heart.
I had a funny feeling in my right arm, too, and guessed that it had gotin the way of a bullet, but could move it all right.
I looked back to see whether the skipper had got safely across yet, andsaw that he was just disappearing between the two little hills or ridgeswhich Parkinson was holding; so it was time for me to be off, and webegan to retire according to the laws and regulations of the dear olddrill book. I sent the Maxim downhill with a run, and Withers and hishalf company with it, to get behind a bit of a bank two hundred yards inthe rear, and held on with my marines, dropping a few Chinese who werebrave enough to stand up and show themselves; but most of the skunkswere simply wriggling along from one bush or grave mound to another, andI'm jiggered if you can hit a man who's crawling and dodging--that is,when you are excited, and your heart is trying to thump its way out ofyour chest, and you are expecting the order to retire and have one eyeon the rear.
They began to get round my right flank then, and I was beginning tothink that "little James" was in a pretty tight corner, when old "B.-T."saw them and came back, just in time, cheering as if he was winning thebattle of Waterloo and Trafalgar all rolled into one, and went careeringright into them.
This checked them for half a minute, and gave my people time to drag ourwounded man--I had to leave the dead one--down the hill, and for therest of us to fall back together halfway down the slope.
"B.-T." came along after us, and we faced round and walked backwardsvery slowly, and they didn't like the look of our bayonets and wouldn'tcharge down, though they were swarming up above us and yelling likestuck pigs. (If they had charged they would have swept clean over us.)We managed to bring along two more of my chaps who were hit and couldn'twalk, and sent them on to the rear, and when we got to level groundagain we opened out, and bolted for where the Maxim and "B.-T.'s" otherhalf company were. They gave them blue blazes as they came screamingafter us, and dropped dozens.
I saw one of the bluejackets fall forward, his head striking the softground, and go slithering along. The Chinese were not twenty yardsbehind, so "B.-T." and two of his chaps stopped and tried to bring himwith them. Old "B.-T." had to do a bit of work with his sword andrevolver for a minute or two; but we'd got our breath behind the bank,came along to his rescue, and beat 'em back, Langham picking
the fellowup like a sack of corn and carrying him to the rear.
"Look at that rotten thing," "B.-T." panted out, as he got behind theMaxim, holding out his arm and showing me where his sword had brokenoff, about twelve inches from the hilt.
"If you _will_ do the V.C. act, old chap, with a rotten tailor-madesword, what can you expect?" I told him.
The Chinese daren't face our fire in the open, and funked it, so that wewere able to fall back again all serenely. It wasn't the fear of seeingany of our people getting killed that worried me then; it was the dreadof seeing them wounded so badly that they had to be carried, because, asI told you before, each one so wounded meant two sound men to carry himaway, and handicapped us so tremendously.
We were behind Parkinson now, and gave our wounded to the Skipper's mainbody. I caught a glimpse of "Old Lest" standing, with his great feetwide apart, and of "Blucher" squatting between them. He was watchingthe Chinese through his glasses, and young Ford and Ponsonby werestanding close to him, looking white and nervous. He shouted out, "Welldone, rearguard!" and we hurried past and came to a group of Chinesebluejackets, standing shoulder to shoulder. In the middle of them, Iknew, was my poor little princess and her miserable little father. Yousee, bullets were still coming past pretty thickly, and Ching wasshielding her with his men's bodies.
That old Chinese gun was there too, with some of the _Ringdove's_ peopleto drag it, and a few yards farther along half a company of Trevelyan'smen were sitting on the ground resting till they had to move on again.
They gave us a cheer as we passed them, jumping to their feet and wavingtheir caps, and off we went at the double for a low ridge about aquarter of a mile farther to the rear. We expected to be able to seethe gunboats from there, and were ordered to try and attract theirattention. They had been told to keep a lookout for us.
This bit was only a case of speed, and we were all blowing likegrampuses when we stopped, and the men flung themselves down and facedround, my little lot about a hundred yards from "B.-T.'s", with Langhamand his Maxim between us.
Some of his people had tied their silk handkerchiefs to their bayonetsand were waving them to attract the gunboats. I heard "B.-T." yellsomething, and saw him pointing away towards the sea.
It was there all right, but, buttered crumpets! a beastly fog-bank, likea solid wall of cotton wool, was creeping down from wind'ard. When Ifirst looked I could see the _Omaha's_ one mast and tall funnel, butthree minutes afterwards the fog had blotted her out of sight, and Icould watch it creeping towards the shore. Great bluebottles! I didn'tlike it; another night like last night would about send me off my"crumpet".
I was just thinking that it would have been better for me to have goneinto the Church, as my old dad always had wished, when Withers camerunning across to ask if I could lend "B.-T." a cigarette.
"You might get your pater to give me one of his livings," I told him."I'm going to be a parson if we ever get out of this."
"He's very particular, sir," the cheeky young rascal grinned, and ranback with my last cigarette. Old "B.-T." would have borrowed mymatchbox, but I sent Withers to tell him to _rub two sticks together_and light it that way; it would be good exercise, and the cigarettewould last longer.
I saw him shake his fist at me when he got the message, and then walkdown his line of men to try and borrow a match from one of them.
The main body was coming past now; Whitmore and Rawlings, at the head ofthe little column, were just passing Langham's Maxim; then Trevelyan'sright half company, a dozen Chinese bluejackets in a circle round Sallyand Hobbs, with Ching and the old Scotchman walking behind them. Thenthere was a gap, a long string of Chinese bluejackets carrying theirwounded, the rest of Trevelyan's chaps carrying ours, the _Ringdove's_people dragging the little Chinese field gun, and Trevelyan with a fewmen bringing up the rear.
They came to a halt behind us, and laid down their wounded very gently.
"There's no one behind us, I think," "B.-T." shouted to Whitmore. "Butjust look at that fog! It's hidden the _Omaha_ since we've been uphere."
"Where's the Skipper?" I asked him.
"Taking charge of the rearguard. This job isn't exciting enough forhim. They'll have all their work cut out to get back to us, and I don'tknow what will happen if we get many more wounded."
I had to go back to my men then, as I saw the rearguard already on itsway, fat little Rashleigh toddling along in front of two companies fromthe left of the two little hills, and the Maxim section rushing theirgun towards us. From the right the rest of the rearguard commencedtheir retreat, and I saw "Old Lest's" great broad shoulders swaggeringback, with Parkinson, as thin as a lamp-post, striding along beside him,and "Blucher" slinking between them.
Contrary to Whitmore's opinion, they had very little trouble inextricating themselves, because the ground was so flat on the other sideof those two little hills, that the Chinese had not dared to come toclose quarters, and they were more than halfway towards us before theenemy occupied the slopes they had just evacuated, and stayed there,contenting themselves with opening a very heavy but miserably directedfire. They made rotten shooting.
I felt that we had now got over by far the worst part of the show, allexcept the beastly fog part, which had already hidden the line of theshore a mile away, with its advance guard of feathery mist quicklycreeping along the ground towards us.
The Skipper came along grunting and growling, lighting another cigar,and highly pleased with himself and everything else so far; but when hesaw the fog he stormed and cursed.
"'Old Lest' won't worry about those chaps behind him. He'll marchstraight for the shore," he grunted, and sent Parkinson and thegunboat's brigade straight ahead, and ordered my marines and "B.-T.'s"bluejackets to remain in the rear. He took charge of the rearguardhimself, but practically gave the job to me. I suppose that he knewthat I had conducted many skilful retreats across the exercise ground atForton Barracks, so would know all about it.
Anyhow, it was a great compliment to me, and old Whitmore was as sick asa cat with a fish bone in its throat, only he tried not to show it.
No one troubled us in front, and we marched along quite quickly--asquickly as it was possible to carry the wounded.
It was really a race against the fog. Everyone knew that, and we gotover the first half-mile without difficulty.
The Chinese were not worrying the rearguard much; but of course they sawthe fog almost as soon as we did, and many of them began streaming awayto the left and right, and I knew that they would scoot round ourflanks, try and get in between us and the sea, and hem us in as they haddone during the night. I didn't like the idea of that--not a littlebit.
But with only another half-mile to do, the moist tongues of fog begandrifting overhead, and in five minutes we couldn't see fifteen yards.We recognized the huts with the dead pig's near them, and some of mychaps had a brilliant idea, and brought them along on their bayonets."Wat 'o! Bill, for a bit of the Gunnery Lootenant's sucking pigs whenwe gets aboard," I heard one of them sing out.
The advance guard halted to let the main body get up to them, and threwback their flanks to overlap it, and as we came up we threw forward ourflanks, and this meant that we practically formed a hollow square roundthe main body and the wounded. Like this we marched very slowly along,keeping in touch by shouting to each other. The Chinese were nowbeginning to draw up to our rear, and we could hear them yelling andfiring rifles at us, the bullets seeming to make much more noise in thefog.
They didn't venture close yet.
In another five minutes the fog was so dense that I couldn't see thethird man from me in the ranks. The skipper made a bugler with the mainbody in the centre sound two "G's" every half-minute, and that was agreat help to us to keep in station. All round us I could hear thenon-commissioned and petty officers singing out: "Not so fast on theright! Keep up on the left! Close towards the bugle, you on theflanks! Where's No. 1 section? Don't get ahead too far!"
These cries, with the
howling of dogs and the yells of Chinamen, who hadgot all round us now, were extremely discomposing. When presently theydid leave off yelling, and we had no idea where they were gathering orwhere they did intend to attack us, I must admit that it was still moredisconcerting. But we could hear the sea beating on the shore, andsmelt the decaying seaweed, and knew we should reach it in a fewminutes. The Skipper must have been a little nervous too, for hisbugler sounded the "halt" and the "close", and everyone drew in towardsthe centre till our little square was as complete as we could make it inthat horrid yellowish-grey fog.
We were just preparing to move on, when there was a most hideous uproaron our right flank. People began firing; there was the noise ofhundreds of feet rushing towards us through the fog, a fearful din ofyelling, shrieks of pain, then the noise of bayonets at work, and Icould feel that the right side of the square was giving ground and beingpressed back, and could hear the strange, choking, grunting noise menmake when they are fighting hand to hand, and being overcome by numbers.
I had heard it once before with General McNeil's column in the Soudan,when our zareba had been rushed, and it was touch and go for a fewmoments whether we were entirely wiped out or not. I was only a newlycaught subaltern in those days, and I shall never forget that rush.
Old "B.-T." ought to have written about this one, not I. He would havedone justice to it. I know that I can't.
It all happened in a moment, and we had the yelling brutes all over us,pushing a thin fringe of struggling bluejackets in front of them. Theylooked huge as they rushed at us in the fog, but the first two or threewho came my way must have been pretty sorry that I hadn't forgotten toload my revolver. It was a regular pandemonium for about sixty orseventy seconds, I should fancy. Ching's men were making a strange,squealing, hissing sound; the Yankees had a different row; and ourpeople were grunting and cursing. I could hear the Skipper roar: "Closeon the centre!" and his bugler kept on sounding the two "G's" to let usknow where the centre was. I found myself near him. He had hiscoxswain, and a couple of signalmen, and the two mids--Ford andPonsonby--close to him, and was laying about him with his big stick, andpunching fellows in the face with his fist. His coxswain knocked overone brute who was coming for him at the back, and I helped him get ridof another and then lost touch with him, and came across the woundedtrying to scramble up and defend themselves with their bayonets,Trevelyan's men standing over them, clubbing their rifles and making agrand fight of it. I saw that they were holding their own, and with adozen of my own marines at my back, ran and forced my way into a lot offellows who were trying to cut down Ching's men. I suppose they hatedhim and his jackets even more than they hated us.
My Christopher Columbus! we did give 'em beans, and I'm precious gladthat my sword was the best that could be bought (well, perhaps boughtisn't the right word; so I will say obtained), for their heads were astough as iron, and the wadded cotton coats they wore made it jolly hardto use the point. For all that, though, it tickled one or two of themconsiderably.
Old Grainger clung to me like my shadow. He always seemed to be handywhen I'd got two people to manage at the same time, and we alwaysmanaged to scoop the pool.
We eased off the pressure round my princess, especially when Parkinson'sFirst Lieutenant, a man nearly forty, came along from the left withtwenty or so of his people, shouting, "Rah!--Rah!--Rah!--O!--Ma!--Ha!"and burst in among them and began clubbing. Little Rashleigh suddenlyshot into view with a broken sword in one hand and a revolver in theother. His scabbard got between his legs, and he fell sprawling, andwould have been killed if Langham hadn't suddenly sprung out of the fogand run a chap through who was standing over him and just going to jabhim with a bayonet.
The three machine-gun carriages and the little Chinese field gun wereall rallying places for our people, and I suppose I must have got intothe "focus of disturbance", as they say about earthquakes, because,although the fog was so thick, I saw nearly all our officers at one timeor another, and we got so jammed together--Chinese and marines andbluejackets--that we could hardly move.
I nearly came to grief near that Chinese gun. A wretched chap thoughthe could prod people from beneath it in comparative comfort, and triedhis hand on me, but wasn't quite quick enough. He got me a beastly ripin the leg just above the knee.
Then "Old Lest" seemed to elbow his way along. If you'll believe me, hestill had a cigar between his teeth (Whitmore saw it, and his coxswainswears that it was even then alight). He had broken his stick over theheads of two big ruffians, and they bungled against the gun carriage,and just as I thought that it was my turn to do something prompt, hecaught them by their pigtails and "wanged" their heads together. Thatknocked them out of time, and his coxswain saw to it that they weredead.
Well, that was my little show, and I felt dizzy, and Grainger lowered meon to that gun wheel. The old sergeant-major came up streaming withblood and loaded my revolver for me, and Grainger wiped a lot of bloodstuff off my face, which was interrupting the view of the surroundingscenery. People seemed to be leaving off fighting; our fellows werecheering like mad, and the buglers began sounding the "fall in" and the"cease fire".
I was all right in a second or two, and went back to my old place in therear, and my people began limping back, calling each other and fallingin, talking twenty to the dozen, and wiping their bayonets with tufts ofgrass.
My sergeant-major got them into something like order again; there wereonly twenty-seven on their feet out of the thirty-nine who had landed,and only about four of these who had nothing in the way of cuts or stabsto show for it.
Presently the bugler sounded the "still", and the coxswain piped,"Officers commanding companies report to the Captain," and I groped myway across the ground, simply littered with dead bodies, and found himand Parkinson. "Blucher" was sitting behind the Skipper, and lookingextremely ashamed of himself.
Gradually all the officers commanding companies came up, except "B.-T.",who had a bayonet wound through his thigh and couldn't walk, and the_Omaha's_ First Lieutenant, who had been killed just after I had seenhim charging with his men.
Young Jones reported "A" company, and that Withers was missing; but thensomeone came up to say that he'd been found with his head cut open, andquite dead. Poor little chap! he was one of the brightest and mostgentlemanly youngsters on board, and I and my marines owed him a greatdeal for the way in which he covered our retreat to the barge two nightsago.
The doctors were singing out to let people know where they were, and Iran up against old Barclay. He seemed to have had a bad time of ithimself, but was busy dressing people and fixing them up. Old "B.-T."was sitting with his back to a Maxim carriage wheel, waiting his turnand holding on to his leg. He wanted to borrow another cigarette, buthe'd had my last half an hour ago. I managed to get one for him,however, and then found Whitmore. He'd had one of his thigh bonessmashed by a bullet, and was in great pain. The whole place was nothingbut a shambles. The _Sparrow's_ people, who had borne the brunt of thefirst attack, had come off worst, and after them Ching's bluejackets;but you will see by the list at the end what the actual casualties were.
Ching himself had a slash over the head, but looked as though he wastreading on air, he was so proud and happy, and I knew that there was agood deal more than the love of fighting to account for that.
"How's the little lass?" the Skipper said, and I followed him across tothe Chinese gun, and found my poor little princess bending over it withher head buried in her hands, and Hobbs sitting on the ground besideher.
The Skipper took her up in his arms and carried her off to a place wherethere were not so many dead bodies. Then happened something which,though disgraceful, is true. He was stalking along with her in hisarms, and had just made a long step across a body, when we werehorrified to see the apparently dead Chinaman spring up and raise asword above his head to strike the Skipper. He would have been killedfor a certainty, because the sword was a very heavy one--anexecutioner's sword--had not young Ford, who
luckily had his revolver inhis hand, placed it against the man's back and shot him.
"THE SKIPPER TOOK HER UP IN HIS ARMS"]
The Captain turned round and growled out "Umph!" but took no furthernotice. However, the word was passed round that a wounded Chinaman hadattempted to kill him, and the men were so enraged that they madecertain that there were no more wounded pirates left inside the square.
This is a fact, whatever you may say about the rights and wrongs of it.
The Chinese had had enough fighting to last them for a "month ofSundays", and let us alone after that, and gave us time to look afterthe wounded. The men, of course, all had their little packets of fielddressings with them, and did a good deal of amateur doctoring, whilstBarclay, Hibbert of the _Ringdove_, the doctor of the _Omaha_, and theirstretcher parties looked after the more seriously wounded.
Then we staggered down to the beach, wading through the fog with ourwounded.
When I say staggered, I mean staggered. Our people had been fightingfor practically twenty-four hours with no rest, and they were done to a"turn". After that strenuous sixty or seventy seconds' struggle, andthe square had been re-formed, and the wounds had begun to pain, andarms and legs and bodies to feel stiff, reaction set in, and if you hadseen them walking that last three hundred yards, you would have thoughtthat most of them were drunk.
Lucky indeed it was that the Chinese let us alone till we could get thewounded down on the beach behind a bank, light several fires to comfortthem, and gradually warmed our fellows up again.
I suppose that if they had charged out of the fog again, our men wouldhave roused themselves and put up just as good a fight; but I must saythat I felt most extremely anxious till we had the sea at our backs, andthat bank at the top of the beach with a deep ditch below it in front ofus.
We had hoped to find our boats lying off waiting for us, and tried toattract attention by shouting and firing rifles. Eventually we heard oneof the gunboats begin firing a gun every half-minute. It turned out tobe the _Omaha_, and presently she began to make a signal with her fogsiren. We knew that she was feeling her way in towards us, by the soundof the blasts coming nearer; but of course we could see nothingwhatsoever through that maddening nightmare of dirty fog, and out of itcame the moaning blasts of the _Omaha's_ siren with the message: "Haveseen nothing of your boats since this morning. _Omaha's_ boats have beensent down the coast to where gunboats' brigade originally landed, andhave not come back."
We well knew that that meant a night to be spent on the bleak shore tillthe fog should clear away and allow the boats to find their way to us.
It was then that the tired men were set to work collecting drift woodand making fires under the bank, whilst Rashleigh and Trevelyan had toline the bank itself, and guard our two flanks across the beach.
Although the fires were fairly large ones, they could not be seenfifteen paces from the far side of the bank. That will give you someidea how dense was the fog, so that we were quite safe in making them,and we brought the wounded across and settled them as comfortably aspossible. When I talk about the wounded, I mean, of course, the badlywounded, men who were obliged to lie or sit perfectly still; but besidesthese, nearly everyone was slightly wounded, but could still handle arifle.
Trevelyan had brought a tin of tea tabloids--he always had some dodge uphis sleeve--and with the water in our bottles, we made enough tea togive the wounded and my poor little princess a hot drink.
Old Grainger "managed" to find another packet of sandwiches for me, andwas very disgusted when I gave them to Sally. A strange old chap hewas. I suppose that I owed my useless life to him half a dozen timesthat day, but he would have been offended if I'd even suggested thankinghim. He had been my servant for nine solid years, and treated me as ifI were a helpless idiot, and that his whole business in life was to turnme out on parade a credit to "The Corps". (I don't mean to infer thathe was the only one who treated me as an idiot.)
Even during the night, when after a couple of hours' sleep the marineshad to take their turn on top of that bank, he began bothering me aboutmy clothes.
I had noticed him looking at me as I stood warming myself in front of afire, and he began: "Them clothes won't be no blooming good again, sir,I'm thinkin'. Two serges and two pairs of trouses in three blessednights! We ain't got enough gear to turn you out proper now, sir."
"That's all right, Grainger; we'll be at Hong-Kong in a fortnight," Isaid to cheer him.
"'Ong-Kong!" he sniffed. "They knows us too well there, sir. Theywants ready money from us there, sir, and we ain't got none. 'Ow's yourarm, sir? You never showed it to the Doctor."
I hadn't, I know; but he wouldn't be satisfied till I had pulled up mysleeve, and he had found a bandage and stuck round it, to cover up thetwo little marks where a bullet had gone in and out.
It really didn't trouble me much, except to make my arm stiff.
Then Ford and Rawlings came up to me. They ought to have been asleep.They were like two little cock sparrows with all their feathers ruffled.
"Would you mind telling us, sir, who captured that gun?" Rawlings burstout very angrily.
"As far as I remember," I told them, "one of 'B.-T.'s' people was first;beat you and Whitmore by a short head."
"There!" they both burst out, looking at each other joyously. "Do youknow, sir, that Mr. Rashleigh says it's his, and that he captured it?"
"Stuff and nonsense! That's all my eye! His people were nowhere insight!"
"Well, he's got it, sir, and the _Ringdoves_ dragged it back, and theysay they've got it, and are going to keep it."
"Come and ask Mr. Whitmore," young Ford said; but I told them that theywere not to wake him, and not to be blithering idiots waking the wholecamp.
"Wait till the morning; no one can take it away to-night."
I knew that if it belonged to anyone it belonged to our Skipper, andthat it didn't matter a tuppenny biscuit who claimed it now, for "OldLest" would have it in the long run.
Our two hours' watch passed without any serious trouble, a few shotsoccasionally whizzed overhead, that was all, and before daylight the foglifted a little, as it had done the previous day.
As soon as they could see us, the Chinese made a very half-heartedattack, and the whole brigade had to stand to arms and line the bank;but we had no difficulty in driving them off and keeping them at arespectable distance.
As the sun rose the hateful fog swept away altogether, and it was a mostblessed sight to see the sun glittering on the muddy water, and the_Omaha_ and _Ringdove_ close to one another, and only about half a milefrom the shore.
Little Sally looked such a forlorn, draggled little woman in the dampdaylight, that I thought she'd be only too glad for anyone to saysomething kind to her, so old "B.-T.", moving in a very "dot-and-go-one"manner, and I went over to say "how d'ye do" to her and give her atreat. We were the best-looking fellows in the _Vigilant_, but old"B.-T.", what with his limp and a forty-eight hours' beard round hisaristocratic chin, wasn't looking his best, I thought, however, that thebandage round my noble forehead (to cover up a cut someone had given me)would just about "fetch" her, and that she would be interested in abouta dozen different specimens of paddy-field mud which were plastered overme.
However, she "bristled" up when we came along to pay her homage, and"guessed she didn't want anyone fooling round her--just yet awhile".Poor little princess! She was so miserable, sitting on the beach behindthat bank, with the Skipper's overcoat buttoned round her.
About an hour after daylight, and the fog had swept away, our boatsmanaged to find us.
Old "Blucher" had had enough shooting expeditions to last him till hegot home, and jumped into the very first _Vigilant's_ boat that had runup the beach, got under the thwart in the stern sheets, and never movedtill she got alongside the ship.
The Skipper gave me the job of covering the embarkation, and it wasn'tall "beer and skittles" either, for the Chinese kept up such apersistent and annoying rifle fire, t
hat we had to get the _Omaha_ and_Ringdove_ to shell them out of some paddy fields and clumps of bambootrees. They tried to steal round the beach and cut a few of us off, andjust as we were getting "busy" with them, young Ford and Rawlings camerushing up again, right in the middle of everything, and squeaked outthat fat little Rashleigh was taking that wretched Chinese gun aboardthe _Ringdove_, that he had actually got it aboard one of his boats, andwas just going to shove off, and that as Whitmore was on the sick list,and "B.-T." had gone off to the _Vigilant_, couldn't I do something?They wanted me to go to the Skipper, or something like that, and tellhim that it really belonged to the _Vigilant_.
"My dear young gentlemen," I told them, when we'd stopped a bit of arush, "if you'll be so obliging as to go out there and ask about fivehundred Chinamen, who are very anxious to obtain specimens of ourlivers, to cease firing and stop where they are till we've decided whoshall own their toy cannon, I'll do the best I can to help you. Tellthem that the matter won't admit of delay, and no doubt they will obligeyou."
They looked angry, and rushed away to try and interest someone else inthe important question.
Gradually everyone was withdrawn from the shore, till there was no oneexcept the Skipper, myself, and my marines remaining. We kept thefellows at bay till the barge came along for us, and then we bolted downto her and scrambled in, the Skipper being actually the last to embark.We had hardly begun to shove off, before the Chinese had lined the otherside of that bank and began firing at us; but two can play at that game,and we had another boat and the steam pinnace lying off, to cover ourretreat, and they peppered them pretty severely.
The _Vigilant_ had come round to meet us, and we got away out of rangeall right and alongside her by seven bells in the afternoon, just intime for afternoon tea.
As soon as I could manage to do so, I slipped away to Truscott's cabin,and found him much more cheerful.
Old Mayhew had said that he couldn't tell what would happen till the endof the third day, and this was the third day since he was wounded, andhe had no bad symptoms.
"To tell the truth, soldier," he whispered, "I'm as hungry as a hunter;tinned milk and soda water ain't very filling, and Mayhew won't let mehave anything else, and precious little of that."
I felt pretty well "done up", now that everything was finished, soGrainger got me a steaming hot bath, and I turned in and slept till nextmorning.
Before I went to sleep, Grainger came back looking very cheerful. Heheld up my two damaged pairs of trousers. "We can do 'em all right, sir;one pair 'as a slit in the right leg, and the other a split over theleft knee. We'll 'ave a try at taking 'em to pieces, and makin' onegood pair out the two of 'em, sir."
"All right, Grainger; it will be better than having nothing to wear atall, won't it?" I told him, and went to sleep.
I copied this list of casualties from somewhere or other, and think thatit is pretty accurate as far as our own ships and the _Omaha_ areconcerned, though I cannot guarantee the figures given for the _HuanMin_.
The "slightly wounded" were those requiring some treatment, and most ofthose who were on the sick list only a few days.
CASUALTIES DURING OPERATIONS ROUND HECTOR ISLAND.
Captured and subse- Slightly Severely Died of quently Name of Ship. Landed. Wounded. Wounded. Killed. Wounds. rescued.
Offi- Offi- Offi- Offi- Offi- Offi- cers Men cers Men cers Men cers Men cers Men cers Men
Vigilant, 15 145 8 75 4 27 1 9 ... 2 1 2 Ringdove, 3 34 2 23 ... 5 ... 2 ... ... ... ... Sparrow, 2 39 2 20 ... 9 ... 6 ... 1 ... ... Goldfinch, 2 32 1 16 ... 3 ... 3* ... ... ... ... Omaha, 4 41 2 27 ... 8 1 2 ... ... ... ... Huan Min. 1 56 1 29? ... 16 ... 8 ... 1? ... ...
Totals, 27 347 16 190 4 68 2 30 ... 4 1 2
* This includes the two men killed by the six-inch projectile which struck the Goldfinch.
