Chapter 16: In which a mutiny is quelled in a minute; and our Babu proveshimself a man of war.
Crouching low, Desmond waited. When the Maratha joined the groups FuzlKhan addressed him directly in a low firm tone.
"We are all agreed, Nanna," he said. "You are the only man wanting to ourpurpose. This is the fastest grab on the coast. I know a port where wecan get arms and ammunition; with a few good men (and I know where theycan be found), we can make a strong band, and grow rich upon our spoils."
"But what about the sahib?"
"Wah! We know what these Firangi are like--at least the Angrezi{English}. They have the heads of pigs: there is no moving them. It wouldbe vain to ask the young sahib to join us; his mind is set on getting toBombay and telling all his troubles to the Company. What a folly! Andwhat an injustice to us! It would destroy our chance of making ourfortunes, for what would happen? The grab would be sold; the sahib wouldtake the most of the price; we should get a small share, not enough tohelp us to become rovers of the sea and our own masters."
"The sahib will refuse, then. So be it! But what then shall we do withhim?"
"He will not get the chance of refusing. He will not be told."
"But he is taking us to Bombay. How then can we work our will?"
"He thinks he is sailing to Bombay: he will really take us to Cutch."
"How that, brother?"
"Does he know Bombay? Of a truth no. He is a boy, he has never sailedthese seas. He depends on us. Suppose we come in sight of Bombay, whowill tell him? Nobody. If he asks, we will say it is some other place:how can he tell? We will run past Bombay until we are within sight ofCutch: then truly I will do the rest."
The Maratha did not reply. The momentary silence was broken by Fuzl Khanagain.
"See! Put the one thing in the balance against the other: how does itturn? On the one side the twenty rupees--a pitiful sum--promised by thesahib: and who knows he will keep his promise? On the other, a tenthshare for each of you in the grab and whatsoever prey falls to it."
"Then the Babu is to have a share? Of a truth he is a small man, a harein spirit; does he merit an equal share with us? We are elephants tohim."
"No. He will have no share. He will go overboard."
"Why, then, what of the tenth share?"
"It will be mine. I shall be your leader and take two."
Desmond had heard enough. The Gujarati was showing himself in his truecolors. His greed was roused, and the chance of setting up as a pirate onhis own account, and making himself a copy of the man whose prisoner hehad been, had prompted this pretty little scheme. Desmond creptnoiselessly away and returned to his quarters. Not to sleep; he spent theremainder of his watch below in thinking out his position--in trying todevise some means of meeting this new and unexpected difficulty. He hadnot heard what Fuzl Khan proposed ultimately to do with him. He mightshare the Babu's fate: at the best it would appear that he had shaken offone captivity to fall into the toils of another.
He had heard grim tales of the pirates of the Cambay Gulf; they were notlikely to prove more pleasant masters than the Marathas farther south,even if they did not prefer to put him summarily out of the way. Hispresence among them might prove irksome, and what would the death of asingle English youth matter? He was out of reach of all of his friends;on the Good Intent none but Bulger and the New Englander had any realkindness for him, and if Bulger were to mention at any port that a youngEnglish lad was in captivity with the Pirate, what could be done? Shouldthe projected expedition against Gheria prove successful, and he not befound among the European prisoners, it would be assumed that he was nolonger living; and even if the news of his escape became known, it wasabsurd to suppose that all India would be searched for him.
The outlook, from any point of view, was gloomy. The Gujarati hadevidently won over the whole ship's company. Were they acting from theinclination for a rover's life, coupled with the hope of gain, or hadthey been jockeyed into mutiny by Fuzl Khan? Desmond could not tell, norcould he find out without betraying a knowledge of the plot.
Then he remembered the Babu. He alone had been excepted; the other menheld him in contempt; but despite his weaknesses, for which he was indeedhardly accountable, Desmond had a real liking for him; and it was anunpleasant thought that, whatever happened to himself, if the plotsucceeded, Surendra Nath was doomed.
But thinking of this, Desmond saw one ray of hope. He had not been forlong the companion of men of different castes without picking up a fewnotions of what caste meant. The Babu was a Brahman; as a Bengali he hadno claim on the sympathies of the others; but as a Brahman his person toother Hindus was inviolable. The Marathas were Hindus, and they at leastwould not willingly raise their hand against him. Yet Desmond could notbe certain on this point. During his short residence in Gheria he hadfound that, in the East as too often in the West, the precepts ofreligion were apt to be kept rather in the letter than in the spirit. Hehad seen the sacred cow, which no good Hindu would venture to kill foruntold gold, atrociously overworked, and, when too decrepit to be offurther service, left to perish miserably of neglect and starvation. Itmight be that although the Marathas would not themselves lay hands on theBabu, they would be quite content to look calmly on while a Mohammedandid the work.
At the best, it was Desmond and the Babu against the crew--hopeless odds,for if it came to a fight the latter would be worse than useless. Notthat Desmond held the man in such scorn as the men of his own color.Surendra Nath was certainly timid and slack, physically weak,temperamentally a coward: yet he had shown gleams of spirit during theescape, and it seemed to Desmond that he was a man who, having once beeninduced to enter upon a course, might prove both constant and loyal. Thedifficulty now was that, prostrated by his illness during the storm, hewas not at his best; certainly in no condition to face a difficultyeither mental or physical.
So Desmond resolved not to tell him of the danger impending. He fearedthe effect upon his shaken nerves. He would not intentionally do anythingagainst Desmond's interest, but he could scarcely fail to betray hisanxiety to the conspirators. Feeling that there was nobody to confide in,Desmond decided that his only course was to feign ignorance of what wasgoing on, and await events with what composure he might. Not that hewould relax his watchfulness; on the contrary he was alert and keen,ready to seize with manful grip the skirts of chance.
Perhaps, he thought, the grab might fall in with a British ship. But whatwould that avail? The grab with her extraordinary sailing powers couldshow a clean pair of heels to any Indiaman, however fast, even if hecould find an opportunity of signaling for help. Fuzl Khan, withoutdoubt, would take care that he never had such a chance.
Turning things over in his mind, and seeing no way out of his difficulty,he was at length summoned to relieve the Gujarati at the wheel. It was,he supposed, about four in the morning, and still pitch dark. When hecame to the helm Fuzl Khan was alone: there was nothing to betray thefact that the plotters had, but little before, been gathered around him.The lookout, who had left his post to join the group, had returnedforward, and was now being relieved, like the Gujarati himself.
Desmond exchanged a word or two with the man, and was left alone at thewheel. His mind was still set on the problem how to frustrate the schemeof the mutineers. He was convinced that if the grab once touched shore atany point save Bombay his plight would be hopeless. But how could heguard against the danger? Even if he could keep the navigation of thegrab entirely in his own hands by remaining continuously at the helm, hewas dependent on the plotters for information about the coast; to misleadhim would be the easiest thing in the world. But it suddenly occurred tohim that he might gain time by altering the course of the vessel. If hekept out of sight of land he might increase the chance of some diversionoccurring.
Accordingly he so contrived that the grab lost rather than gained in hertacks against the light northwest wind now blowing. None of the men,except possibly the Gujarati, had sufficient seamanship to detect thismano
euver; he had gone below, and when he came on deck again he could nottell what progress had been made during his absence. Only the mainsail,foresail, and one topsail were set: these were quite enough for theuntrained crew to trim in the darkness--likely to prove too much, indeed,in the event of a sudden squall. Thus the process of going about was along and laborious one, and at the best much way was lost.
Not long after he had begun to act on this idea he was somewhat concernedto see the serang, who was in charge of the deck watch, come aft and hangabout near the wheel, as though his curiosity had been aroused. Had heany suspicions? Desmond resolved to address the man and see what he couldinfer from the manner of his reply.
"Is all well, serang?"
"All well, sahib," answered the man. He stopped, and seemed to hesitatewhether to say more; but after a moment or two he moved slowly away.
Desmond watched him. Had he discovered the trick? Would he go below andwaken Fuzl Khan? Desmond could not still a momentary tremor. But theserang did not rejoin his mess mates, nor go below. He walked up and downthe deck alone. Apparently he suspected nothing.
Desmond felt relieved; but though he was gaining time, he could butrecognize that it seemed likely to profit him little. A criminal going toexecution may step never so slowly across the prison yard; there is theinexorable gallows at the end, and certain doom.
Could he not force matters, Desmond wondered? It was evidently to be acontest, whether of wits or physical strength, between himself and theGujarati. Without one or other the vessel could not be safely navigated;if he could in some way overcome the ringleader, he felt pretty sure thatthe crew would accept the result and all difficulty would be at an end.But how could he gain so unmistakable an ascendancy? In physical strengthFuzl Khan was more than his match: there was no doubt of the issue of astruggle if it were a matter of sheer muscular power.
For a moment he thought of attempting to enlist the Marathas on his side.They were Hindus; the Gujarati was a Muslim; and they must surely feelthat, once he was among his co-religionists in Cutch, in some piratestronghold, they would run a very poor chance of getting fair treatment.But he soon dismissed the idea. The Gujarati must seem to them much moreformidable than the stripling against whom he was plotting. The Hindu,even more than the average human being elsewhere, is inclined to attachimportance to might and bulk--even to mere fat. If he sounded theMarathas, and, their fear of the Gujarati outweighing their inevitabledistrust of him as a Firangi, they betrayed him to curry a little favor,there was no doubt that the fate both of himself and the Babu wouldinstantly be decided. He must trust to himself alone.
While he was still anxiously debating the matter with himself his eyecaught the two muskets lashed to the wooden framework supporting thewheel. He must leave no hostages to fortune. Taking advantage of a lullin the wind he steadied the wheel with his body, and with some difficultydrew the charges and dropped them into the sea. If it came to a tusslethe enemy would certainly seize the muskets; it would be worth somethingto Desmond to know that they were not loaded. It was, in truth, but aslight lessening of the odds against him; and as he restored the weaponsto their place he felt once more how hopeless his position remained.
Thus pondering and puzzling, with no satisfaction, he spent the fullperiod of his term of duty. At the appointed time Fuzl Khan came torelieve him. It was now full daylight; but, scanning the horizon with arestless eye, Desmond saw no sign of land, nor the sail of any vessel.
"No land yet, sahib?" said the Gujarati, apparently in surprise.
"No, as you see."
"But you set the course by the stars, sahib?"
"Oh, yes; the grab must have been going slower than we imagined."
"The wind has not shifted?"
"Very little. I have had to tack several times."
The man grunted, and looked at Desmond, frowning suspiciously, butDesmond met his glance boldly, and said, as he left to go below:
"Be sure and have me called the moment you sight land."
He went below, threw himself into his hammock, and being dead tired, wassoon fast asleep.
Some hours later he was called by the Babu.
"Sahib, they say land is in sight at last. I am indeed thankful. To thelandlubber the swell of waves causes nauseating upheaval."
"'Tis good news indeed," said Desmond, smiling. "Come on deck with me."
They went up together. The vessel was bowling along under a brisksouthwester, which he found had been blowing steadily almost from themoment he had left the helm. The land was as yet but a dim line on thehorizon; it was necessary to stand in much closer if any of the landmarkswere to be recognized. He took the wheel; the shade on the sea linegradually became more definite; and in the course of an hour they openedup a fort somewhat similar in appearance to that of Gheria. All theship's company were now on deck, looking eagerly shorewards.
"Do you know the place?" asked Desmond of the Gujarati unconcernedly.
The man gazed at it intently for a minute or so.
"Yes, sahib; it is Suwarndrug," he said. "Is it not, Nanna?"
"Yes, of a truth; it is Suwarndrug; I was there a month ago," replied theMaratha.
"What do you say, Gulam?" he continued, turning to one of the Biluchisstanding near.
"It is Suwarndrug. I have seen it scores of times. No one can mistakeSuwarndrug. See, there is the hill; and there is the mango grove. Oh,yes, certainly it is Suwarndrug."
At this moment four grabs were seen beating out of the harbor. Fuzl Khanuttered an exclamation; then, turning to Desmond, he said with a note ofanxiety:
"It is best to put about at once, sahib. See the grabs! They may beenemies."
Desmond's heart gave a jump; his pulse beat more quickly under the stressof a sudden inspiration. He felt convinced that the fortress was notSuwarndrug; the Gujarati's anxiety to pile up testimony to the contrarywas almost sufficient in itself to prove that. If not Suwarndrug, it wasprobably one of Angria's strongholds, possibly Kulaba. In that case thegrabs now beating out were certainly the Pirate's, and the men knew it.
Here was an opportunity, probably the only one that would occur, ofgrappling with the mutiny. The crew would be torn by conflictingemotions; with the prospect of recapture by Angria their action would beparalyzed; if he could take advantage of their indecision he might yetgain the upper hand. It was a risky venture; but the occasion wasdesperate. He could afford for the present to neglect the distant grabs,for none of the vessels on the coast could match the Tremukji in speed,and bend all his energies upon the more serious danger on board.
"Surely it can not be Suwarndrug?" he said, with an appearance ofcomposure that he was far from feeling. "Suwarndrug, you remember, hasbeen captured. The last news at Gheria was that it was in the Company'shands, though there was a rumor that it might be handed over to thePeshwa. We should not now see Angria's grabs coming out of Suwarndrug.But if it is Suwarndrug, Fuzl Khan, why put about? As fugitives fromGheria we should be assured of a welcome at Suwarndrug. We should be assafe there as at Bombay."
The Gujarati was none too quick witted. He was patently taken aback, andhesitated for a reply. The grab was standing steadily on her courseshorewards. Desmond was to all appearance unconcerned; but the crew werelooking at one another uneasily, and the Gujarati's brow was darkening;his fidgetiness increasing. Surendra Nath was the only man among thenatives who showed no anxiety. He was leaning on the taffrail, gazingalmost gloatingly at the land, and paying no heed to the strangesituation around him.
Desmond was watching the Gujarati keenly. The man's manner fullyconfirmed his suspicions, and even in the tenseness of the moment he felta passing amusement at the big fellow's puzzle-headed attempts to inventan explanation that would square with the facts. Failing to hit upon aplausible argument, he began to bluster.
"You, Firangi, heed what I say. It is not for us to run risks: the hinddoes not walk open eyed into the tiger's mouth. The grab must be putabout immediately."
"Who is in command?"
asked Desmond quietly; "you or I?"
"We share it. I can navigate as well as you."
"You forget our arrangement in Gheria. You agreed that I should command."
"Yes, but at the pleasure of the rest. We are ten; we will have our way;the grab must be put about, at once.
"Not by me."
Desmond felt what was coming and braced himself to meet it.
Then things happened with startling rapidity. The Gujarati, with a yellof rage, made a rush towards the wheel. Knowing what to expect, Desmondslipped behind it and with a few light steps gained the deck forward.Fuzl Khan shouted to the serang to take the helm and steer the vessel outto sea; then set off in headlong pursuit of Desmond, who had now turnedand stood awaiting the attack.
The Gujarati did not even trouble to draw his knife. He plunged at himlike a bull, shouting that he would deal with the pig of a Firangi as hehad dealt with the sentinel at Gheria.
But it was not for nothing that Desmond had fought a dozen battles forthe possession of Clive's desk at school, and a dozen more for the honorof the school against the town; that his muscles had been developed bymonths of hard work at sea and harder work in the dockyard at Gheria.Deftly dodging the man's blind rush, he planted his bare feet firmly andthrew his whole weight into a terrific body blow that sent the bigger manwith a thud to the deck. Panting, breathless, trembling with fury, FuzlKhan sprang to his feet, caught sight of the muskets, and tearing onefrom its fastenings raised it to his shoulder.
Desmond seized the moment with a quickness that spoke volumes for hiswill's absolute mastery of his body. As the man pulled the harmlesstrigger, Desmond leaped at him; a crashing blow between the eyes sent himstaggering against the wheel; a second while he tottered brought him limpand almost stunned to the deck.
Meanwhile the crew had looked on for a few breathless moments inamazement at this sudden turn of affairs. But as the Gujarati fellDesmond heard a noise behind him. Half turning, he saw Shaik Abdullahrushing towards him with a marlinspike. The man had him at adisadvantage, for he was breathless from his tussle with Fuzl Khan; butat that moment a dark object hurtled through the air, striking this newantagonist at the back of the head, and hurling him a lifeless lump intothe scuppers.
Desmond looked round in wonderment: who among the crew had thusbefriended him so opportunely? His wonder was not lessened when he sawthe Babu, trembling like a leaf, his eyes blazing, his dusky faceindescribably changed. At the sight of Desmond's peril the Bengali,forgetting his weakness, exalted above his timidity, had caught up withboth hands a round nine-pounder shot that lay on deck, and in a suddenstrength of fury had hurled it at the Biluchi. His aim was fatally true;the man was killed on the spot.
With his eyes Desmond thanked the Babu; there was no time for words. Thehostile grabs were undoubtedly making chase. They had separated, with theintention of bearing down upon and overhauling the Tremukji in whateverdirection she might flee. Fuzl Khan still lay helpless upon the deck.
"Secure that man," said Desmond to two of the crew.
He spoke curtly and sternly, with the air of one who expected his ordersto be executed without question; though he felt a touch of anxiety lestthe men should still defy him. But they went about their task instantlywithout a word: Desmond's bold stand, and the swift overthrow of the bigGujarati, had turned the tide in his favor, and he thrilled with reliefand keen pleasure that he was master of the situation.
While the ringleader of the mutineers was being firmly bound, Desmondturned to Nanna and said:
"Now, answer me at once. What is that place?"
"It is Kulaba, sahib."
"Where is Kulaba?"
"A few miles south of Bombay, sahib."
"Good. Run up the fore-topsail."
He went to the wheel.
"Thank you, serang. I will relieve you. Go forward and see that the mencrowd on all sail."
The mutiny had been snuffed out; the men went about their work quietly,with the look of whipped dogs; and barring accidents Desmond knew thatbefore long he would make Bombay and be safe. With every stitch of canvasset, the vessel soon showed that she had the heels of her pursuers.Before she could draw clear, two of them came within range with their bowchasers, and their shot whistled around somewhat too close to becomfortable. But she steadily drew ahead, and ere long it was seen thatthe four grabs were being hopelessly outpaced. They kept up the chase forthe best part of an hour, but as they neared the British port theyrecognized that they were running into danger and had the discretion todraw off.
Now that the pursuit was over, Desmond ventured to steer due northeast,and the coastline became more distinctly visible. It was about twoo'clock in the afternoon, judging by the height of the sun, when theserang, pointing shorewards, said:
"There is Bombay, sahib."
"You are sure?"
"Yes; I know it by the cluster of palmyra trees. No one can mistakethem."
Moment by moment the town and harbor came more clearly into view. Desmondsaw an extensive castle, a flag flying on its pinnacled roof, set amid agreen mass of jungle and cocoanut forest, with a few Portuguese-builthouses dotted here and there. In front a narrow jungle-clad island,called, as he afterwards learned, Old Woman Island, stretched like a spitinto the sea. To the left of the fort, at the head of a small bay, wasthe Bunder pier, with the warehouses at the shore end. Still farther tothe left were the docks and the marine yards, and; at the extremity ofthe island on which Bombay stands, a frowning bastion.
Feeling that he had now nothing more to fear, Desmond ordered Fuzl Khanto be cast loose and brought to him. The man wore a look of sullensurprise, which Desmond cheerfully ignored.
"Now, Fuzl Khan," he said, "we are running into Bombay harbor. You knowthe channel?"
The man grunted a surly affirmative.
"Well, you will take the helm, and steer us in to the most convenientmoorings."
He turned away, smiling at the look of utter consternation on theGujarati's face. To be trusted after his treacherous conduct wasevidently more than the man could understand. The easy unconcern withwhich Desmond walked away had its effect on the crew. When orders weregiven to take in sail they carried them out with promptitude, and Desmondchuckled as he saw them talking to one another in low tones anddiscussing him, as he guessed by their glances in his direction.
The Gujarati performed his work at the helm skilfully, and about fiveo'clock, when the sun was setting, casting a romantic glow over the longstraggling settlement, the Tremukji ran to her anchorage among a host ofsmall craft, within a few cable lengths of the vessels of AdmiralWatson's squadron, which had arrived from Madras a few weeks before.
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India Page 18
