by G. A. Henty
“I don’t think there is any real danger,” he said to Harry, “or that they will attempt to take the ship. Their habit is, I have heard, to lie in hiding, and to shoot their arrows at any stranger who may land.”
They sat chatting, for an hour, after the meal was concluded. Then the conversation flagged, and Fairclough said, presently:
“I think that we may as well follow the men’s example, and turn in. I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
The gale was still blowing strongly, in the morning, though its force had somewhat abated. But inside the bar there was but a slight swell, and the brig rode easily at her anchors; for the wind was now several points west of north, and they were consequently protected by the land.
The work of repairing damages began at once for, owing to the length of the voyage, the stores of provisions and water were beginning to run very short. Two or three buffaloes had been bought, at the village where Harry had landed but, with the exception of some fruit, and the meat sent off by the tumangong, no other fresh food had been obtained, since they sailed from Calcutta. The boat was turned over and launched; and the work of making a new fore-top mast, and overhauling the rigging, proceeded with.
During the day, several of the natives were observed at the edge of the forest by Harry who, having no special work to do, had been asked by Fairclough to keep his eye on the shore, and to ascertain whether they were being watched; as he intended, when the repairs were finished, to see if any spring of fresh water existed in the neighbourhood. He therefore kept a telescope directed on the shore and, soon after daybreak, made out two little men at the edge of the trees.
The natives of the Andaman Islands are among the lowest types of humanity known. Their stature does not exceed five feet and, with their slender limbs and large heads, their appearance is almost that of a deformed people. They use no clothing whatever, plastering their bodies with clay, or mud, to protect the skin from the sun’s rays. Animals are scarce on the islands, and the people live chiefly on fish. They carry bows and arrows, and heavy spears; to which, in most cases, are added shields. They inhabit roughly-made arbours, and seldom remain long at any spot; moving about in small communities, according to the abundance or scarcity of food. They use no cooking utensils, and simply prepare their food by placing it on burning embers.
The men first made out soon disappeared but, later on, Harry could see that there were many of them inside the line of forest.
“It is a nuisance,” the captain said, when he told him the result of his examination of the shore. “I suppose, in a day or two, we shall have hundreds of them down here. I don’t think they will try to interfere with us, as long as we are at work; but they will certainly oppose us, if we attempt to enter the forest, and will effectually prevent our wandering about in search of water. We could only go in a strong body and, even then, might lose a good many lives from their arrows.
“Of course, we should be able to beat them off; but I should be sorry to have to kill a lot of the poor little beggars. One can hardly blame them for their hostility. Naturally, they want to have the place to themselves, and are just as averse to our landing as our forefathers were to Julius Caesar and his Romans.
“Of course they would be, if they only knew it, very much better off by being civil. We have numbers of things that would be invaluable to them. For instance, I would willingly give them a dozen cooking pots, and as many frying pans, if they would let us obtain water peaceably. I suppose that, at some time or other, Malays landed here, and carried off a number of heads; or they may have been shot down by some reckless ruffians of traders, and have so come to view all strangers as deadly enemies. However, so far as I have heard, there is no chance of their being friendly; and native traders say that, of vessels that have been wrecked on the coast, none of the crew ever escaped.
“By the way, I believe that fish are extremely plentiful here. We have a good supply of fishing lines on board, for we generally fish when we are at anchor.”
“If you will let me have them, tomorrow,” Harry said, “Abdool and I will look after that. I hate having nothing to do and, certainly, fish would be a very agreeable change, after such a long spell of salt meat.”
“You shall have them, the first thing in the morning.”
Accordingly, the next day the lines were got out; and the Malay interpreter, who knew a great deal more of fishing than did Harry or Abdool, took the matter in hand. The hooks were baited with pieces of meat, or shreds of white or scarlet bunting. The fish bit eagerly, and all three were kept actively employed in drawing them up, and rebaiting the hooks. They were of all sizes, from a quarter of a pound to four or five pounds and, by dinner time, there were enough to furnish an ample meal for all on board.
“I will keep three or four of the men at work, this afternoon,” Fairclough said, “and we will have night lines down. We can salt down those we do not eat and, at any rate, we shall not be drawing much on our stores.”
By evening the new fore-top mast was in its place. As the heaviest part of the work was now done, orders were given for a boat’s crew to start, in the morning, to cruise along the coast and see if any stream ran into it. Mr. Eden was to be in command. The crew were to be well armed, but were not to attempt to effect a landing.
The sea had now calmed down, and the southwest monsoon was blowing steadily.
“You had better go south. The land is much higher there, and there is more likelihood of there being streams. I think you will be able to lie your course or, at any rate, make a long leg and a short one. You are to go, as nearly as you can tell, twenty miles. If you do not meet with a stream by that time, turn back. You will have the wind free, then, and can be back here well before sunset. Of course, if you find fresh water, you will at once return.
“Would you like to go with the boat, Mr. Lindsay?”
“Very much. My hands are so sore, from hauling in the lines, that I am afraid I shall not be able to help in the fishing, tomorrow.”
The party started early. It consisted of ten men, the coxswain, the midshipmen, and Harry. The surf was no longer breaking on the bar outside. There was a bright sea, with white-crested waves and, before starting, the captain ordered a reef to be put in the sails.
“She could carry full sail, well enough,” he said to Harry, “but there is no occasion for haste; and it is always best to be on the safe side, especially when a middy is in command. Besides, it is just as well to keep dry jackets.”
A keg of water and a supply of food, sufficient for two days, were placed on board.
“I expect you will be back by three o’clock in the afternoon, Mr. Eden; but it is always well to provide against any accident.”
With the sheets hauled tight aft, the cutter was just able to lie her course, outside the line of breakers. In a little over an hour there was a break in the shore, and a stream of some forty feet wide fell into the sea; and a general cheer broke from the sailors, who had been put on allowance for the past week.
“Put her about, coxswain,” the midshipman said; “we need go no farther.”
“Can’t we land, and have a bathe, sir?” the coxswain asked.
“Certainly not. That is the very thing that we mus’n’t do. For anything we know, there may be natives about; and some of us might get stuck full of their arrows before we could get out of range. This will be good news, and there will be no longer any need for your being kept on short allowance of water.”
At ten o’clock the boat re-entered the inlet, and lowered sail by the side of the brig.
“You have been successful, I suppose, by your coming back so soon, Mr. Eden?” the captain said, when they were within easy hail.
“Yes, sir. There is a small stream, about seven miles from here.”
“That is very satisfactory. Now you can come on board. There is plenty of work for all hands.”
Everyone, indeed, was busy in repairing damages. The carpenters were engaged upon the bulwarks and the stern, which had been much damaged
by the wave that had lifted them over the bar. As there were not sufficient planks on board for this work, canvas was utilized for filling up the gaps in the bulwarks; and this, after being nailed to temporary stanchions, was coated with pitch. All hands worked cheerfully. The change of diet already benefited them, and the news that there was plenty of fresh water near enabled the remaining supply to be freely used—a matter of no slight consequence, to men working in the broiling sun.
Two days later the work was finished and, on the following morning, the anchors were weighed and the sails shaken out; and the brig left the inlet that had saved them from destruction and, after sailing out to sea a couple of miles, came about and laid her course for the mouth of the stream.
The fishing had been continued, without intermission. Watches had again been set, and the work of attending to the lines was very welcome, as helping to pass away the four hours of darkness. By the time they left the inlet, a sufficient quantity had been salted down to last the ship’s company for a week, without recourse to the salt-meat casks.
The carpenter, with three or four assistants, had patched up the second cutter—the boat that had been least injured. The others had been broken up for firewood, some of the pieces being reserved for the repairs of the cutter.
As soon as the brig reached the mouth of the stream she was anchored, two hundred yards off the shore. The water barrels had already been got up on deck, and some of these were lowered into the first cutter, of which Mr. Hardy took the command. It was not deemed advisable to employ the second boat in bringing water on board as, if heavily laden, the water would force its way in through the hastily-executed repairs. The captain, then, accompanied by Harry and an armed crew, took his place in her; and went ahead of the larger boat into the stream.
It was found to be but three or four feet deep, with a slow current and, for some little distance up, was too brackish to be used. It was not until they entered the line of forest that it was found fresh enough. The men in the first cutter proceeded to fill their casks, while those in the other boat laid in their oars and, musket in hand, watched the forest. In a few minutes the work was done, and the first cutter rowed straight for the brig; while the second cutter followed her, for some distance beyond the trees, and there waited for her return.
“So far, so good,” Fairclough said; “but I am afraid that we shall be disturbed, before we have made another trip. No doubt, some of the natives followed the cutter along the shore, yesterday. I don’t suppose they recognized what your object was, as you did not enter the stream; but when they saw the brig going the same way this morning, I have no doubt that they set off in this direction. However, with one more boat load we can manage, well enough, until we reach the Hooghly for, with this wind, we shall make a quick run.”
In a quarter of an hour the cutter was seen returning and, when it approached them, Fairclough again took the lead. All appeared still in the forest, and the men had just begun to refill the casks, when a shower of arrows fell among the boats.
“Let half your men go on with their work, Mr. Hardy, and the others stand to their arms.”
Not a single foe was visible, but the arrows still flew fast from among the trees.
“Open fire!” Fairclough said. “Fire anywhere among the bushes. I don’t suppose that we shall hit them, but it may frighten them. They can’t know much about firearms.”
From both boats a scattering fire of musketry at once opened, the men loading and firing as quickly as they could. The effect was immediate. Arrows still fell, but only occasionally; and evidently shot at random, for but few of them came near the boats.
The men in the first cutter were working energetically, dipping breakers into the water and emptying them into the large casks. In three or four minutes these were filled, and Hardy hailed the captain.
“We are full up, now, sir, both casks and breakers.”
“Then retire at once, Mr. Hardy. We will follow you.”
As they issued from under the trees, the arrows again fell fast.
“Don’t fire,” the captain said; “perhaps they may issue out, and then we will give them a lesson—that it is better not to interfere with men who are doing them no harm.”
This proved to be the case. No one had been hit by the fire from the boats and, now that the shooting had ceased, the natives, with shouts of triumph, ran out from the forest. There were some hundreds of them.
The captain hailed the boat in front.
“Stop rowing, Mr. Hardy, and open fire on them.
“Now, lads,” he went on, to his own crew, “fire steadily, and don’t throw away a shot.”
As the rattle of musketry broke out again from both boats, many of the natives dropped. The others stopped, at once. A shower of arrows was discharged; and then, as the fire was kept up, they fled back into the woods; and the men, again taking to their oars, rowed out without further molestation to the brig. None of the crew had been killed, but four were wounded by the arrows.
“I hope they are not poisoned,” Fairclough said, in a low voice, to Harry. “I don’t know whether they use poison, on these islands; but we must hope not. However, we will not frighten them by even hinting at the possibility of such a thing.”
Happily, however, no evil symptoms resulted. The wounds were, for the most part slight and, the next day, all were able to return to their duty. The fair weather now set in and, ten days later, the brig dropped anchor in the river, opposite Calcutta.
Harry at once went ashore, and handed to the Governor a full report of what had taken place.
“I have not time to read this rather bulky report of yours, at present, Captain Lindsay,” the latter said, with a smile. “Please give me the pith of it, as shortly as possible.”
“The island, sir, is well adapted for a trading station; and would, I should think, when the forests are partly cleared away, be a healthy one. I have interviewed the tumangong, who has signed a document agreeing, at any time in the future that it may be desired, to cede either a trading station or the whole island to us. He was greatly pleased with the presents that you sent; and is, I believe, thoroughly in earnest in his desire for a trading station to be established so close to him. The Rajah of Johore has ratified this agreement, and has given his cordial consent for the cession of the island to us.
“It seems that he, himself, is an usurper. The rightful heir is a boy of seven or eight years old, and I think it is possible that, either at the present man’s death, or possibly even before that, he may ascend the throne. At present, he and his mother are in the hands of the reigning rajah; but I have promised her that, if we take possession of Singapore, she and her son can find an asylum there, and a small pension for her maintenance; and she, on her part, has promised that she will bring up her son to regard us as his best friends; and that he, if he ascends the throne, shall also ratify the treaty, and will become our warm ally.
“As to the Dutch, the reply of their Governor is with the report, but certainly it is an unfavourable one; and no cooperation, in the work of repressing piracy, can be expected from them.”
“I did not expect it, Captain Lindsay; and indeed, as I told you at the time, only sent you to Batavia in order to account for the presence of one of our ships of war in those waters.
“Well, sir, your mission has been, in all respects, most satisfactory. I shall read your report, and give it full consideration, at my leisure. For the present you will remain here, available for any office, military or civil; but at present, at any rate, you will retain your civil employment.
“I will not ask you to dine with me, today, as it is hardly likely that I shall have time to read your report, this afternoon; but I shall be glad if you will do so, tomorrow, and you can then answer any questions that may suggest themselves to me.”
Chapter 15
Assaye
While the Deccan had been torn by civil war, the Government of Bombay had extended their territory. The Nabob of Surat, who had been under their protection, had
died; and they had taken the government of the province into their own hands. A civil war having broken out, at Baroda, they had supported one of the rival princes; and had, after a good deal of fighting, placed their candidate on the throne—various districts being assigned to them, in return for their assistance.
Holkar, on hearing of Bajee’s arrival at Bassein, placed his brother Amrud on the musnud, and commenced a series of atrocities, in Poona, equal to that which it had suffered at the hands of Ghatgay; respectable inhabitants being robbed and ill treated, many tortured, and some killed, in order to wring from them the treasures that they were supposed to have concealed.
During the months that followed his return to Calcutta, Harry remained attached to the staff of the Marquis of Wellesley—for to this title Lord Mornington had succeeded, during his absence, on the death of his father—and was sent on various missions; among others accompanying the Governor General’s brother, the Honorable Henry Wellesley, to the court of Oude. He could now speak Hindustani, as well as Mahratti; and was very useful in acting as an interpreter, and in aiding to carry on the negotiations.
In February, 1803, he was sent by the Governor General to join the force that Major General Wellesley was preparing, in Mysore, to aid Bajee Rao to recover his throne. The treaty that the latter had concluded with the Government, on his arrival at Bassein, was a most advantageous one to the English. In return for their assistance, he agreed that a force of infantry, with guns and European artillerymen, should be stationed within his territories; their maintenance being paid by handing over to the Company a large amount of territory. The two parties were to support each other in case of war, and the Peishwa bound himself not to make aggressions against other states, nor to negotiate with them without the Governor’s consent. The Peishwa agreed, also, to abandon the Mahratta claims on Surat, and other districts that had been occupied by the English.
