CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
"Bedad, sorr, it sames I'm dhramin', sure," observed Tim Rooney to MrMackay as the two now stood together on the forecastle, looking out overthe hows. "It's moighty loike the ould river; an' I'd a'most fancy Iwor home ag'in, an' not in Chainee at all at all!"
"You're not far wrong, bosun," replied Mr Mackay, smiling at hisremark, or rather at the quaint way in which it was made. "I can fancythe same thing myself, the appearance of the Yang-tse-kiang hereaboutsbeing strangely like that of the Thames just below Greenhithe."
I, overhearing their conversation, thought the same too; for, although,of course, there was no dome of Saint Paul's in the distance, norforests of masts, nor crowds of steamers passing to and fro, nor allthat bustle of business and din and dense black smoke from thoseinnumerable funnels that distinguishes the waterway which forms thegreat heart artery of London, still there were many points ofresemblance between the two--the show of shipping opposite Shanghai,where we lay, being almost as fair as that which is to be seen sometimesat the mouth of the Thames on a fine day, when it blows from the southand there are many wind-bound craft waiting to get down Channel.
The sampans and other native boats, darting about hither and thither inshoals, somewhat made up for the absence of the panting tugs and paddlesteamers plying on the former stream, albeit there was no deficiencyhere either of Fulton's invention, steamers running regularly a distanceof more than seven hundred miles up the Yang-tse-kiang; and, as forhouses and the signs of a numerous population, there were plenty ofthese, although different to the bricks and mortar structures of ourmore accustomed eyes in England, with the peaks of pagodas doing dutyfor church spires, while the paddy fields planted with rice on eitherhand offered a very good imitation of the low-lying banks of our greatmother river along the Essex shore.
"Aye, it's the very image, an' as loike as two pays," reiterated TimRooney on my joining the two. "Don't ye think so, too, Misther Gray-ham?"
"I wish you would leave the `ham' out of my name!" I replied laughing,but a bit vexed all the same. "I think you might by this time, it'sgetting quite a stale joke."
"Faix, I dunno what ye manes, sorr," he replied, pretending to bepuzzled, but the wink in his eye showing clearly that this density ofhis mental powers on the point was only assumed. "Sure, an' I can'thilp me brogue, ye know, if ye manes that?"
"Nobody says you can," said I rather shortly; for one or two of thehands by the windlass bitts were grinning, as well as Sam Weeks who wasstanding by, too, and I did not like being made fun of before them. "Noone could mistake you for anything else but a Paddy all the world over!"
"Begorra, an' I'm proud av that very same, Misther Gray-ham," heretorted, not one whit put out by my words, as I imagined he would be."If other folks had as little to be ashamed av, it's a blissid worrldsure this'd be, an' we'd be all havin' our wings sproutin' an' sailin'aloft, loike the swate little cheroob, they says, looks arter poorJack!"
A general laugh followed this; and the captain just then coming out ofhis cabin, where he had been busy getting all his papers and bills oflading together, and ordering the jolly-boat to be lowered to pull himashore, Tim turned away to see to the job--so, he had the best of me inour little skirmish, albeit we were nevertheless good friendsafterwards.
In the afternoon, Captain Gillespie came off to the ship again, with agang of coolies under a native comprador. These were sent by theconsignees to help discharge the cargo into a lot of small junks thatthey brought alongside; but the Chinamen made a poor show, contrastingtheir work with that of our stalwart able-bodied tars, one of whomthought nothing of handling a big crate as it was hoisted out of thehold which it took ten of the others merely to look at.
Fortunately, only a few boxes of the Manchester stuffs that were stowedin our fore compartment were found damaged by the sea, the rest of thegoods being in good condition, and the cargo generally as sound as whenit came on board in the docks; a result which afforded "Old Jock" muchsatisfaction, as he had feared the worst. The only loss, therefore, theowners would have to suffer would be the small amount of our freightthat had been jettisoned when the ship first went ashore on the Pratas,the cargo that had subsequently been taken out to lighten her beforegetting her off the shoal having been carefully preserved.
"`All's well that ends well,'" cried he, rubbing his hands and sniffingand snorting, when the people ashore reported this after a systematicexamination of all the bales and stuff. "I told ye so, Mackay, I toldye so; and when I say a thing, ye know, I mean a thing."
"I'm sure, I'm only too glad everything has turned out right," repliedthe first mate, smiling to himself, though, at "Jock's" assertion ofhaving prognosticated this favourable issue, the contrary being thecase; for, he'd been grumbling all the way from Hongkong about thesalvage to be paid, and compensation to the consignees for deteriorationof the cargo, besides perhaps demurrage for late delivery, the shiparriving at Shanghai more than a month beyond her time. "`All's wellthat ends well,' as you say, sir; and I only hope we'll soon have afreight back which will recoup any loss the owners may have sufferedfrom the mishaps of our voyage out."
But, hoping for a thing, and having it, are two very different things.
It was the middle of July when we finally reached Shanghai, and it tookus, with the slow way of going to work of the Chinese coolies and theircomprador and the people ashore and all, a good three weeks to unloadour cargo; so that, by the time we had the hold swept out and got readybelow for the reception of a freight of tea promised the captain, lo andbehold we found we were too late, for the consignment intended for uswas now well on its way home in another vessel. This latter, however,we were told in excuse for our disappointment, had been waiting longerfor a cargo than us, having been lying in the river since May, and onlystarting off as we commenced discharging.
We were cheered up, though, by the hope of having a cargo of the secondseason tea, which the shore folk said was expected in the town from upcountry shortly; which "shortly" proved to be of the most elasticproperties, it being September before we received authoritativeinformation of our expected freight being at last at Shanghai and readyfor shipment.
When it came, though, we did not lose much time in getting it on boardand stowed, even Tom Jerrold and I working under hatches.
"Begorra, we'll show them poor craythurs," cried Tim Rooney, bracinghimself up for the task and baring his sinewy arms with much gusto as hebuckled to the job, setting the hands a worthy example to follow. "Aye,we'll jist show them what we calls worruk in our counthry, me darlints.Won't we, boys?"
"Aye, aye," roared out the men, all anxious to set sail and see OldEngland again; sailors being generally the most restless mortals underthe sun, and never satisfied at being long in one place. "Aye, aye, bo,we will!"
And they did, too, "Old Jock" rubbing his hands and snorting andsniffing in fine glee as the tea-chests were rattled up out of the junksalongside and lowered into the hold, where they underwent even a greateramount of squeezing and jamming together than our original cargo out,the process of compression being helped on by the aid of the jack-screwsand the port watch under Mr Mackay--who now superintended the stowageof the cargo, in place of poor Mr Saunders. No one, apparently, savethe faithful Tim Rooney, gave a thought to the latter, now resting inhis quiet tomb in Happy Valley!
"Bedad, we miss our ould sickond mate, sorr," I heard him say to MrMackay, who was a little strange to the job, having had nothing to do inthe stowing line for some time, his duties as first mate being moreconnected with the navigation of the ship. "He wor a powerful man toate, sure; but he knew his way about the howld av a vissil, sorr, thatsame."
"That means, I suppose, bosun," replied Mr Mackay laughing and coughingas the tea-dust caught his breath, "that I don't--eh?"
"Be jabers, no, sorr," protested Tim; "I niver maned to say that, sorr,aven if I thought it. But poor ould Misther Saunders samed, sorr, totake koindly to this sort av worruk, betther n
or navigatin'; which heweren't a patch on alongside av you, sorr, as ivery hand aboard knows."
"Get out with your blarney," said Mr Mackay good-humouredly, urging thecrew on to fresh exertions by way of changing the topic. "If we stopjawing here long we'll never sail from Shanghai before next year. Putyour hearts in it, men, and let us get all stowed and be done with it."
"Look aloive," yelled the boatswain, following suit; "an' hurry up widthim chistesses--one'd think ye wor goin' to make the job last a monthav Sundays, sore!"
They "hurried up" with a vengeance; so that, before the week was out,the tea was all stowed and the hatches battened down, with the shipquite ready to sail as soon as Captain Gillespie got all his permits andpapers from the shore--of which latter, by the way, I may confess, TomJerrold and I got tired at last.
I had received no less than three letters from home, all in a batch,when we got to Shanghai, one also coming after we arrived, telling meabout father and them all; and it seemed, as I read of their doings atthe vicarage and what went on at Westham, as if it had been years sinceI left England, instead of only six months or so passing by; the changeof life and all that had happened making me feel ever so much older.
However, reading these dear home letters made me long all the more toget back and see them again; and, in anticipation of this, you may becertain I did not forget to make a good collection of nice things formother and my sister Nellie, as well as some "curios" for father, suchas he had promised in my name when the letter came which made my mothergrieve so, telling that all the arrangements had been completed for mygoing to sea,--do you recollect?
Yes; and besides the curios I myself bought ashore, I had one given me,at the very last moment before we left the Yang-tse-kiang, by ChingWang, who, much to the surprise of all, said he wasn't going back in theSilver Queen--not, at all events, this voyage, he made the captainunderstand, being desirous of remaining at Shanghai until the next year.
"Me likee lilly gal, she likee me," he explained with his bland vacuoussmile and his little beady eyes twinkling. "Me wifoo get chop chop.Two men not stop one placee--no go ship and 'top shore too."
"You rascal!" shouted "Old Jock" in a rage, "you served me just the sametrick the voyage before last. You'd better come with us now, for I'mhanged if I give you the chance again."
"No, cap'en," grinned the imperturbable Chinaman, "no can do."
So, amidst the chaff of the men, who asserted that Ching Wang must haveabout fifty wives by this time at various ports, considering the numberof times he had contracted matrimonial engagements, he went over theside into a sampan he had waiting for him, smiling blandly to the last,and giving me as a parting present the little brass figure of Buddhawhich he worshipped as his deity. This was a sure token of the strongaffection he entertained for me, his "lilly pijjin," as he always calledme from the time that Tim Rooney had commended me to his good graces.
"He'll come back with us next trip," said Mr Mackay, as he with all ofus gave Ching Wang a parting "chin chin" on the celestial cook beingpresently rowed ashore in great state, sitting in the stern-sheets ofhis sampan and beaming on us with his bland smile as long as his roundface could be distinguished, dwindling away in the distance till itfinally disappeared. "I'm sorry to lose him, though, sir, for he was acapital cook, besides being a plucky fellow. Recollect how he helped tosave all our lives the other day, as well as the ship and cargo."
"Humph!" grunted "Old Jock," who appeared to have forgotten this. "He'sserved us a shabby trick now, by going off like that at the last moment,and I've half a mind not to have any truck with him again."
"Ha, ha, cap'en," laughed Mr Mackay, "you said so last time, don't youremember? Yet, you brought him aboard again with the other hands beforewe started from Gravesend this trip. You're too good-natured to bear inmind all the hard things you say sometimes."
"Perhaps I am, Mackay, perhaps I am," sniggered and snorted "Old Jock,"thinking this a high compliment. "Though, when I say a thing, I mean athing, you know."
Ching Wang, when he got ashore, did not forget his old friends and leaveus altogether in the lurch; for he sent off a black cook, a native ofJamaica, one Tippoo by name, to take his place; and as a messenger fromthe brokers on shore came off at the same time with the ship's papers,nothing now delayed our departure from Shanghai.
Then was heard Tim Rooney's piercing whistle once more on board, and thewelcome--thrice welcome cry:
"All ha-a-nds make sail!"
The topsails were soon loosed by one watch, while the other hove up theanchor in fine style to the chorus of "Down in the lowlands, oh!"
"Up and down!" cried Matthews on the forecastle, taking poor Saunders'place here, for he was now doing duty as second mate, although he hadnot yet passed the Trinity House examination for the post. "Anchor's upand down, sir!"
"Then heave and paul!" answered Mr Mackay from the poop, calling out atthe same time to the men standing by the halliards: "Sheet home andhoist away!"
In another minute, the topsails were dropped and the yards hoisted, thejib run up and the spanker set; when, as our anchor cleared the ground,soon peeping over our bows and being catted and fished in the oldfashion, the Silver Queen's canvas filled and she bade adieu to Chinawith a graceful curtsy, making her way down the Yang-tse-kiang at a ratethat showed she was as glad as those on board her to lose sight of itsyellow waters at last!
It was the 14th September when we sailed; and, although it was ratherearly in the year for it, the nor'-east monsoon had already begun toblow, fine and dry and cold, bowling us down through the Formosa Channeland into the China Sea beyond, "as if ould Nick war arter us," as TimRooney said.
In our progress past the same latitudes in which we had previouslyencountered such perils, we now met with nothing of interest; steeringsouth by the Strait of Gaspar--to the other side of the island of Banca,instead of by our former route when coming up--we navigated Sunda thesame day, getting out into the Indian Ocean at the beginning of October.
Shaping a course from here to pass about a hundred miles to thesouthward of Madagascar, our nor'-east wind changing to a nor'-westwardin 15 degrees south latitude, which was all the more favourable for us,we were able to fetch the Cape of Good Hope in forty-three days from ourstart. Our passage round the stormy headland was now comparativelyeasy, being aided by the strong current that comes down the Africancoast through the Mozambique, and so did not cost us any bother at all,as we had fine weather all the time until we turned into the Atlantic.
From the Cape to the Channel we made a splendid passage, sighting theLizard on the 20th December and getting into dock on the afternoon ofthe 22nd of the month. Strange to say, too, we were towed up from theDowns by our old friend the Arrow, just as we were towed down the riverat starting on our eventful voyage.
Captain Gillespie gave me leave to go home the next day, telling me hewould write when the ship would be ready again for another trip early inthe following year; and so, bidding my mess-mates a cordial farewell, Iwas soon in a train on my way to Westham once more, with "Dick" thestarling in a bran new wicker cage I had bought for him at Shanghai, aswell as my sea-chest packed full of presents for the home-folk andeverybody.
It was late in the afternoon of Christmas-eve when I reached the oldwell-known little station, which seemed to look ever so much smallerthan when I left; and the very first person I saw whom I knew--none ofmy people coming to meet me, as they did not know when I would arrive,not expecting me indeed until the next morning--was Lawyer Sharpe, asferrety-looking as ever!
He gave me a hearty greeting, however, saying he was glad to see me backagain, and to have "ocular demonstration," as he expressed it, that Ihad not been lost at sea as was reported; so, I recalled what father hadsaid when I had turned up my nose at the legal profession, and thoughtMr Sharpe no doubt was misjudged by a good many, and might not bealtogether such a tricky customer as the Westham folks made out.
Leaving my traps at the station to be sent on by a porter, only takin
gDick's cage with me, I was soon trotting along through the village,passing old Doctor Jollop on my way. He, too, was the very same asever, without the slightest alteration, muddy boots and all; for,although there was a little sprinkling of snow on the ground, asbefitted the season, it had thawed in the streets of Westham, and as amatter of course the doctor, who always appeared to choose the verymuddiest of places to tramp in, had managed to collect as much of themire as he could on his boots and legs.
But, mud or no mud, he was a jolly kind old fellow, and more reallypleased again to see me than--even with the most charitable feelings Imust say it--Lawyer Sharpe pretended to be.
"Just back in time, Allan, for the plum-pudding," he called out onseeing me. "Eh, my boy, eh?"
"Yes, sir," said I, laughing as I shook hands with him. "Just in timefor it."
"And the pills, too," he added, chuckling as he went into a cottageclose by. "And the pills, too; you mustn't forget them."
Nasty old fellow, as if I wished to be reminded of anything sodisagreeable at such a moment!
The next instant, however, I was at the vicarage gate, when Nellie, whowas on the watch, although as I've said I was not expected till nextday, flew out of the porch and had her arms round my neck, with mymother after her and father and my brother Tom, too--the latter bringingup the rear, his dignity not allowing him to hurry himself too much; andwhat with meeting and greeting these all thoughts of Doctor Jollop andhis pills and everything else were banished from my mind--everything,save the delicious feeling of being at home again.
"And what have you here, Allan?" inquired sister Nellie when all thekissing and hugging was over, and I'd asked and answered at least athousand questions. "A bird?"
"Yes, a starling," said I, introducing Dick and telling them his historyas we all went back into the house, keeping this a surprise and notmentioning about the little beggar in my letter from Shanghai. "I'vebrought him home for you, Nellie."
"Oh, thank you, Allan," she cried, hugging me again. "What a dearlittle fellow!"
"Ah, wait till you hear him talk," said I, speaking to Dick and givinghim my old whistle, "Dick, Dick!"
"Hullo!" cracked the starling, so comically, in Tim Rooney's voice thatthey all burst out laughing, "here's a jolly row!"
Dick then whistled a couple of bars, which was all he could accomplish,of "Tom Bowling," after which he ejaculated his favourite expression,"Bad cess to ye!" in such a faithful imitation of my friend theboatswain's manner that father smiled with the rest; although he saiddrily, "Your bird, Nellie, I hope will learn better language when he hasbeen amongst us a bit longer!"
My chest arriving presently from the station, I had the happiness ofshowing them all that I had forgotten none when away; for I had got aMandarin hat for Tom, and two old china jars I had brought for motherdelighting her heart, while Ching Wang's idol which I gave fatherespecially pleased him. He became, too, I may add, all the more deeplyinterested in this little idol when I told him all the circumstancesconnected with it, and the impression the Chinaman's devotion to his godhad made on me.
I have little further to say, having now given a full, true, andfaithful account of my first voyage; although I might point out to youthat I was no longer a "green" apprentice, but now able to "reef, hand,and steer," as "Old Jock," or rather Captain Gillespie to speak morerespectfully of him, said when I was leaving the ship, expressing thehope of having me with him on his next trip out, as I "had the makingsof a sailor" in me, and was "beginning to be worth my salt."
I had told father, though, so much about Tim Rooney, recounting all hiskindness to me on board the Silver Queen from almost the first moment Isaw him--almost, but not quite, the commencement of our first interviewhaving been rather alarming to me--that nothing would suit him but myfriend Tim's coming down to Westham for a short visit, if only for aday.
Of course, I wrote to him, inclosing a letter father sent inviting him,and Tim came next day prompt as usual in his sailor fashion, winning allthe hearts at the vicarage before he had been an hour in the place.
Father naturally thanked him for all that he had done for me, which madethe bashful boatswain blush, while he deprecated all mention of his careof me.
"Bedad, sorr," said he to father in his raciest brogue, and with thatsuspicion of mirth which seemed always to hover about his left eye, "itwor quite a plisure, sure, to sarve him; for he's the foorst lad I ivercame across as took so koindly to the thrade. 'Dade an' sure, sorr, Ibelaive he don't think none the worse av it now, by the same token; an'would give the same anser, sorr, to what I've axed him more nor oncesince he foorst came aboord us. Faix, I'll ax him now, your riverince.Ain't ye sorry, Misther Gray-ham, as how ye iver wint to say, now?"
"No, not a bit of it," replied I sturdily, in the same way as I hadalways done to his stereotyped inquiry. "And I'll go again cheerfullyas soon as the Silver Queen is ready again for her next voyage."
"There ye are, sorr!" cried Tim admiringly. "He's a raal broth av a boyentoirely. Sure, he'll be a man afore his mother yit, sorr!"
THE END.
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