The Cruise of the Midge. Michael Scott

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The Cruise of the Midge - Michael  Scott

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of a chocolate colour, as the turbid flow of the river feathered out like a fan, all round the mouth of it. But as the tide made, the colour changed, by the turgid stream being forced back again, and before it was high water, the bar was indicated by a semicircle of whitish light green, where the long swell of the sea gradually shortened, until it ended in small tumbling waves that poppled about and frothed as if the ebullitions had been hove up and set in motion by some subterraneous fire. But, as yet, the water did not break on any part of the crescent-shaped ledge of sand.

      In the very middle of the channel there were three narrow streaks of blue water. We chose the centre one; and while the frigate hove-to in the offing, dashed over with a fine breeze, that, from the eddy round the point to windward, was nearly a fair wind up the river. For a minute I thought we were in some peril when passing the boiling water on the bar; but presently we were gliding along the smooth surface of the noble river.

      On rounding the first point, right in the middle of the stream lay our friend of the preceding night, moored stem and stern, with boarding nettings up, and Spanish colours flying at the mizen-peak; but we could see no one on board. Sprawl therefore called a halt, and made the men lie on their oars, as some savage pranks had lately been played by slavers in these rivers, such as laying trains to their magazines when they found capture inevitable, and various other pleasant little surprises, one of which generally served a man for a lifetime. So being desirous of avoiding all chance of a hoist of this kind, we dropped anchor in the felucca, and got the boats alongside, all to the cutter, which was sent to pull round the polacre and reconnoitre. On the officer returning, he said he had seen nothing. We therefore determined to remain quiet for some time longer, to give any trick of the nature glanced at, time to develope itself. We lay for two hours under the most intense heat I ever remember; the sun was absolutely broiling us alive, for there was not the least breath of air, and the surface of the sluggish river was one polished sheet of silver—the low swampy banks being covered with mangrove bushes and dwarf palms, preventing any breeze there might be from finding its way to us.

      "Now," said Lieutenant Sprawl, "this is really very unentertaining. I say, Benjie, my dear, I think I had better pull under the stern of the polacre to reconnoitre a bit. I will take care that I do not go too near."

      "I see no objections to it," said I, "none in the world; but mind your hand, my hearty—don't go too far, as they are slippery chaps these same slaving gentry—that I can tell you."

      The boat shoved off—we were eating our hasty dinner on deck at the moment—and proceeded without let or hinderance until she arrived within pistol-shot of the polacre, when lo! from amongst the green bushes on the river bank, about musket-shot from them, a burst of white smoke flew up, and several round shot hopped along the calm surface, stirring up the water with whizzing splashes. The next moment the shrieks of the cutter's crew gave notice that they had told in a fearful manner. We looked out a-head. The wreck of the boat, with eight of her crew, including the lieutenant, holding on by it, came floating down to us; she had been knocked to pieces by the fire of the masked battery that had so unexpectedly opened, but the poor devils were promptly picked up; all to one unfortunate fellow who had been killed and now floated past us on his back, with his chest up, and his head down. Old Davie Doublepipe scrambled on board, in nowise greatly put out by his rough reception.

      "Why now," said he, "a surprise of this kind is extremely inconvenient."

      "But where the deuce came the shot from?" said I.

      "The devil only knows," quoth he; "every thing seemed as quiet as could be, when all at once—crash—the shot took us right amidships, and the next moment we were all floundering in the water, like so many pigs overboard."

      "Well, well, lucky it is no worse," rejoined honest Dick Lanyard; "but I say, Master Marline," to the senior midshipman of the frigate, who commanded one of the other boats, "we can't lie here to be murdered, so strike out for the polacre, keeping t'other side of the river, and her hull between you and the skulkers; then pull straight for her, but haul off if you see any one on board; and if any annoyance is offered from the shore this time, I will weigh and give our concealed friends a dose of grape."

      The boat shoved off, and pulled towards the enemy in the manner directed. All was quiet until she reached within ten yards of her, when a blaze of six pieces of cannon at the fewest once more took place, and eddies of smoke again gushed from the bushes. The boat instantly took the hint, put about, and returned to us. Her stern had been nearly knocked to pieces, and she was leaking so much, that by the time she was alongside, she was full of water, and the men had only time to get out, when she sank to the gunwale.

      "By the powers!" said Lanyard, driven off his balance, cool as he was, "but there is mighty little fun in all this. What see you, my man?"—to one of the people who had scrambled up the long yard to reconnoitre from whence the shots had proceeded; but he could give no information. The smoke rolled away down the dull river in white wreaths, growing more and more gauzelike and transparent, as they passed us, and all was quiet, and green, and noiseless on the bank as before; while the sun continued to shine down on us with the same sickening intensity, heating the thick unwholesome air, until it was almost unfit for breathing.

      "Something must be done," said I—"we must dislodge these fellows or be off, that is clear."

      "Do you think," said Lanyard, addressing himself to the discomfited first lieutenant, who was shaking his feathers, and drying himself as well as he could, "that there is water for us to sheer alongside where these scoundrels are ensconced?"

      "I consider there must be," said he, "but we had better remain quiet where we are until night, if they will let us, so that we may be off with the ebb if need be."

      The advice was good and discreet. So Old Bloody Politeful, Dick Lanyard, and I set to clean our beautiful persons, and make ourselves as comfortable as our scanty means permitted, while the men did the same. It was now near five P.M., and the tide began to flow again. As there were two good hours daylight still, we determined to prove our friends a little further, rather than lie inactive any longer—the same restless feeling had spread to the men.

      "The tide is on the turn now, sir," said the old quartermaster.

      "Then all hands up anchor—weigh, and sweep in close to that dwarf palm there."

      The smoke had come from a spot close under its shade.

      "Hurrah!" shouted the men.

      The anchor was catted—the sweeps were manned—the guns were loaded with grape—the marines stood to their arms, and in five minutes we were once more at anchor, with the two boats in tow, within half-pistol shot of the bank. All remained still. Not a breath stirred the leaves of the mangrove bushes, or the jungle of wild cane that grew close to the river brink. I was sure we were directly opposite the spot from whence the shots were fired.

      Whenever we were fairly settled in our position, we let drive both guns. The grape pattered in the water, and rattled amongst the leaves of the trees, but all continued still as death. We loaded and fired again; but as we had only one boat untouched, Mr. Sprawl determined, instead of attempting a landing, in order to cope with enemies whom we could not see, to weigh and sweep towards the brig again, with the intention, if opportunity offered, of boarding her. But the moment we turned our stern to the shore, and began to pull in that direction—bang—several cannon were again fired at us, in this instance loaded with round and grape, but fortunately missed us this time.

      "Pull, men, like fury; give way, and clap the hull of the brig between you and our honest friends there." Crack—another rally from the masked battery; the next minute, we had swept round the stern of the polacre, and were alongside. Lanyard laid hold of the manrope—"Now, men, there can be no tricks here, or they would

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