By the Knife

by Steve Partridge

  The carpenter came on deck and walked up to Peterson. ‘We have eight feet of water in the hold, sir, and rising,’ he announced.

  ‘Can you not fother now that it’s quiet?’ Samuel asked.

  ‘The damage is too low, Mr. Samuel. It could even be a garboard plank.’ The man looked exhausted; water ran from his clothes.

  ‘I’m sure you have done all you can, Mr. Williams,’ Peterson told him. ‘We should soon find a beach to lay her on.’

  As they passed between two sandbanks Lieutenant Michael hailed from the boat, pointing to starboard. Looking in that direction Peterson saw a small bay with a white sandy beach; a wooded headland jutted out at the far end.

  ‘Would that suit you, carpenter?’ he asked.

  ‘If it’s flat, sir, and we could get as close to the trees as possible, it would do fine,’ Williams acknowledged. They turned slowly towards the beach. Peterson had the starboard guns run across to the larboard side putting a list on the ship and with all sail stowed the Challenger gently took the ground. The men in the bucket chains and at the pumps collapsed onto the deck and all was silent.

  ‘Sound round the ship,’ the sailing master ordered.

  Peterson went into the aft cabin. Jones sat on the floor beside the cot. ‘Has he moved or said anything?’ Peterson asked.

  ‘Nothing, sir,’ the boy told him.

  Sitting down beside him the lieutenant suddenly felt exhausted, his head was aching and his mouth felt very dry. ‘Would you like some brandy, sir?’ Jones asked. He held out a tankard. ‘I’ve had it ready for when the captain wakes up,’ he explained. ‘He will wake up, won’t he, sir?’

  Peterson saw the fear in the boy’s face and reaching for the brandy said, ‘He will, Jones. The longer he sleeps, the better he will be when he wakes. You look after him and I’ll ask the surgeon to come and look at him again.’

  Lieutenant Michael came through the door followed by Chaney. ‘How’s the captain?’ he asked.

  ‘No change at the moment, ‘Peterson told him, standing up.

  ‘The carpenter wants masthead lines run ashore to the trees. I’ll take Smyth with me if that’s alright,’ Michael said.

  Peterson looked at the tankard he held. ‘Yes, but first give all hands a tot of rum; they’ve earned it. How’s the ship?’

  ‘Settling by the stern, I think she will be down in a few minutes. There are a lot of creaks and groans, but I think she’s fine.’

  Chaney walked past him and stood looking down at David. ‘Has the surgeon been again?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ll send for him now,’ Peterson told him, walking from the cabin.

  CHAPTER 21

  Captain Daumas watched the enemy sloop sail away.

  ‘This Englishman has the luck of the devil,’ he told his first lieutenant.

  ‘Our broadsides hit him hard, Captain,’ the man replied. ‘He may yet be destroyed.’

  Daumas turned towards his cabin. ‘Salvage as much of the foremast as you can; we will jury rig some headsails and return to the army camp. If the Englishman is as damaged as you say, he is going nowhere. The army can finish him off.’

  CHAPTER 22

  The xebec swung to her anchor. Carter had returned to the bay and now lay close to the other two ships. After the slaughter on the beach he had been restless and unable to sleep. Instead of calming him, as was usually the case, killing the boy had made his fixation with Fletcher worse. Finally, he had ordered the xebec got underway; he would hunt the bastard down. Only a few miles to the south, however, he had sighted the sloop and as he watched she had attacked a frigate on the horizon.

  Carter had watched through a glass, as he turned his ship back towards the coast. At first, it seemed the sloop would win, bringing down the frigate’s foremast with her first broadside, but then the French had fired and the sloop had fled.

  If Fletcher’s ship had taken major damage, and Carter did not believe he would have broken off the action otherwise, where would he go? With a big sea running he might be cast ashore. Carter fantasized on finding Fletcher laid on a beach, all alone.

  I will wait until the weather settles, he decided, and then search for the wreck along the coast to the south.

  He would take all the boats from the three ships and all three crews. When I find him they will hear him screaming as far away as Gibraltar, he promised himself.

  To his annoyance the weather continued to work against his plans and for days it rained hard followed by periods of strong winds. The swell got bigger as time went on.

  CHAPTER 23

  The pain hit David’s consciousness like a hammer, lights flashed in crazy circles. It seemed that his brain would burst from his skull. He moaned and tried to bring his hands up to his head, but his fingers would not obey him; they danced as if possessed by some other force. He opened his eyes and instantly closed them again as pain lanced through his head.

  Jones rushed onto the deck, screaming for the surgeon and then turned and ran back to David’s side. The cabin was suddenly full of people; Peterson, Chaney, Michael, Samuel and Midshipman Smyth crowded round the cot. Woods pushed all aside and ordered them out. All moved back but none left.

  Leaning over the cot, Woods asked, ‘Captain, can you hear me?’

  The jumble of words that came from David’s mouth made no sense; he seemed unable to form a sentence. His eyes were clamped tight shut.

  ‘Close off the light,’ Woods ordered, and Jones pulled the canvas they had rigged over the damaged windows closed, plunging the cabin into semi-darkness. ‘Gentlemen, you must all leave. The captain must have silence and rest,’ the surgeon told them.

  Back on deck Chaney angrily told Peterson that Woods hadn’t got a clue. ‘He’s as useless as the rest of us.’

  Peterson raised his hand to Chaney’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry,’ he told him. ‘I’m sure it will be alright.’

  In the cabin Woods stood and looked at his patient; he was at a loss to know how to proceed. ‘Keep a wet cloth to the captain’s brow,’ he told Jones. ‘Call me if there’s any change.’

  Jones sat in the darkness; he had a bowl full of fresh water and a clean cloth. Every so often he would take the cloth from the captain’s forehead and rinse it, before putting it back. The gloom in the cabin became full dark as the evening wore on and Jones was on the edge of sleep when he heard a weak voice asking for water.

  Drinking the water was difficult; when David tried to lift his head the pain made his head spin. Finally, Jones helped him roll onto his side and he gulped the water. David gently eased himself down onto his back. At first, his back muscles radiated pain, but slowly he settled down. Jones had taken away the pillow.

  ‘What has happened, Jones? Where are we?’ David asked.

  ‘That French frigate almost did for us, Captain,’ the boy told him. ‘We’re half sunk and aground.’

  ‘Hell’s teeth,’ David exclaimed. ‘Bring Mr. Clark to me.’

  ‘He’s dead, sir. I’ll bring Mr. Peterson.’

  Once again the cabin was full of people. Peterson was telling the story of the failed attack when the surgeon arrived and drove everybody out. David was covered in sweat and the pain in his head was unbearable.

  ‘You must lie still, Captain, and no talking,’ Woods told him. ‘The ship is fine. Mr. Peterson has everything in hand.’

  David’s recovery was slow; over the next few days he was able to move his back and sit in a chair, but the pain in his head persisted and he was subject to bouts of sickness. He sat or lay in the darkened cabin whilst the works on the ship continued without him. The guns were removed to the beach where Peterson had them dug into a line, trained to seaward in case of attack. The crew were billeted in the trees, shelters being quickly made with sails and spars from the ship.

  At dawn on the first day the dead were buried on a sand spit. Peterson read a short piece from the bible and led the crew in prayer. Lieutenant Clark’s grave was marked with a wooden cross whilst the rest had simple wood
en stakes with their names curved on them.

  Once all was set, the stores, water casks and powder casks were moved ashore. The powder being buried some distance away.

  Mr. Martin had his men dig trenches behind the camp in case of attack over land. Finally, David was carried ashore and placed in a tent slightly away from the main camp, guarded by ten marines. Now the masthead lines were taken to the windlass and the lightened ship was slowly pulled down. The carpenter and his mates had swum down to the damaged planks and driven bedding and oakum into the holes and splits, they had then nailed canvas patches over the damage. Once the stores were ashore they had also been able to shore up from inside. This had enabled enough water to be pumped out to float the ship and allow her to be pulled down. Seventeen days after beaching the sloop, her wounds were above water and could be seen by all. David had himself rowed round the ship’s bow after sunset to inspect the damage.

  The pain in his back had become a dull ache and apart from stiffness when bending and sharp pain in his shoulder when he moved suddenly, David felt reasonably well. The sunlight still gave him violent head pains, however, which was why he had left his inspection until twilight. As he stood in the boat he squinted at the broken timbers.

  ‘Tell me your thoughts, Mr. Williams,’ David told the carpenter.

  ‘There are three broken frames and four more with cracks,’ the man began. ‘As you can see, sir, the third garboard plank is smashed over a length of six feet with the boards above and below it damaged. Further aft we have three other holes that I managed to plug.’

  ‘Can you repair the damage?’

  ‘I can patch it up, sir, but to repair it properly we need a slipway.’

  ‘You can get us moving again, however?’

  ‘Yes, sir, but I won’t guarantee she could stand another battle.’

  ‘She might have to. Do your best. How long do you need?’

  The carpenter looked worried. ‘Two or three weeks, sir,’ he mumbled.

  The next morning on the beach David walked down the line of guns with Peterson. Looking at his acting first lieutenant, David said, ‘I don’t think I have complimented you on getting us here, Stephen. Your action saved both our lives and our ship.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ Peterson paused. ‘I was worried that you thought I should have continued the action, sir.’

  ‘No, Stephen, the action was my mistake; to attack a frigate in those weather conditions was foolhardy. I have Lieutenant Clark’s death on my conscience.’ David stopped and leaned on a gun as a wave of giddiness swept over him.

  ‘Are you alright, sir?’ Peterson looked alarmed.

  ‘I’m alright, Stephen. It’s just the heat.’ After a moment David walked on.

  ‘What will we do next, sir?’

  ‘That depends on the French. I don’t think they will leave us alone for long.’

  As they approached the encampment the sound of drums was heard in the far distance. David smiled. ‘Perhaps Zuri will have some news for us. I’ll not be sorry to have the ship back in order. How is Williams progressing?’

  ‘He’s wandering in the woods, looking for fitches, sir. He needs to replace or at least reinforce the damaged frames. His mates are removing the planking.’

  ‘Williams is a good man.’

  ‘Yes, sir.

  The gunner wants to throw away half of the powder, sir. He says it’s wet and even if dried he could not guarantee the rate of burn.’

  ‘Ask him to dry it anyway, Stephen, and stow it at the bottom of the stack. Calculate the number of broadsides we have, using the good powder.’

  ‘Once we have the ship in order, sir, will we return to England?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Stephen. I have a feeling we are not quite finished here yet. Promote Midshipman Smyth to acting lieutenant and one of the master’s mates to midshipman. Your position as first lieutenant is permanent, of course.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll promote Vernon; he was very useful when he worked with me in the gig. Also, sir, I would like to make Able Seaman Harris master’s mate.’

  ‘As you wish, Stephen. Now I will return to my tent.’

  David’s head was aching; the sun seemed to be cutting through his eyes into his brain. Back in his tent he sat down and took his head in his hands.

  ‘Perhaps you should lie down, sir,’ Jones told him.

  ‘Yes, I will just for a minute or two.’ David lay on his cot and was soon asleep.

  ‘Sergeant Chaney, I am not a magician. I cannot see inside the captain’s head.’ Woods’ irritation came from his inability to suggest any remedy for the captain’s ailment, rather than Chaney’s demands that he help the captain.

  ‘There must be some drug you can give him, sir,’ Chaney insisted.

  ‘The captain will not take laudanum because it makes him sleep and I have none other. Now I must see to my other patients.’ The surgeon walked off down the beach.

  ‘Useless prick,’ Chaney muttered. He turned and almost walked into Zuri who had appeared behind him.

  ‘My father coming,’ the boy announced.

  ‘Your father is coming here?’

  ‘Yes, everybody coming.’

  ‘Let’s find Jameel.’ Chaney led the lad to where Jameel sat by a cooking fire. ‘Ask Zuri what’s happening with his father, Jameel,’ Chaney instructed.

  After some conversation Jameel said, ‘Zuri’s father is bringing his tribe here; the French are making problems for him down in the delta.’

  ‘When will they arrive?’

  ‘Four,’ Zuri said, pointing at the sun.

  Peterson turned to Chaney. ‘So in four days’ time Nanji’s whole tribe is going to turn up on our doorstep, with the French hot on their heels?’

  ‘So it would seem, sir.’

  ‘I must wake the captain.’

  David looked at his officers. ‘This can be turned to our advantage,’ he told them. ‘Firstly, Mr. Martin will find a place of ambush, it must be well away from the ship, and we will then have Zuri tell his father where to go. I want just enough men left here to continue with the work. If possible we will move some of the guns into position. Once we are engaged, Nanji’s warriors can assist us. Jameel, tell Zuri to find out as much as possible about the French force, their numbers, how they are travelling and whether they are supported by a ship or not. The most important thing, as I’m sure we are all aware, is that our ship is not discovered. If we are able to do the French some harm at the same time so much the better.’

  ‘Stop.’ Martin leaned forward gasping for breath. ‘Christ,’ he said. ‘Will you people slow down? We’ve been running for hours.’ Zuri grinned at him.

  ‘It’s not far now, Lieutenant,’ Jameel told him. ‘Just through that set of trees and over the hill.’

  ‘Alright, but let’s walk now. I’m not as used to this as you two are.’ They set off once again and after half an hour came to a clearing on what looked like a game trail. To the south two steep hills made the trail pass through a narrow rocky cut. ‘This is perfect,’ Martin told Zuri. ‘If we mount two guns to bear on the pass we could hold off a regiment.’ After the lieutenant had rested, they started the fifteen-mile hike back to the ship.

  ‘You will transport two nine-pounders and dig them in on the near side of the clearing; leave space between them for Nanji’s people to pass through. The guns must be well hidden. It is reported that over a hundred French troops are following Nanji. They would normally march in a column three abreast, but we cannot be sure. These people are not stupid; do not underestimate them. Hide your people well and wait for the last possible moment. I will be with the guns.

  ‘Mr. Peterson will be on my starboard side and Mr. Martin to larboard. Very well, gentlemen, you can move out. I will join you later.’ David watched the men set off into the woodland. Two guns on sledges were pulled by twenty men each whilst two other sledges carried powder, shot and provisions.

  The pain in his head was a dull ache. ‘I will lie down for a mome
nt,’ he told Jones, who stood watching him. ‘We will set out at dusk; Zuri will guide us.’

  ‘You should stay here, Captain,’ Jones said, his face full of concern. ‘That’s what the surgeon said.’

  Once the sun was down the headache eased and David prepared to leave. ‘Look after the ship, Mr. Samuel,’ he called.

  ‘I will, sir, and good luck,’ the sailing master replied.

  The journey through the jungle was long and without Zuri’s guidance would have been impossible. David had to stop and rest several times. Well before dawn, however, David joined his crew in their ambush position. As the sun came up David inspected the arrangements; all was as it should be and the clearing was a killing ground. Both seamen and marines were invisible on both sides of the game trail whilst the guns looked down the path that the French troops would take as they came through the pass.

  The sun also brought back the pain in David’s head. He settled in the shade and asked Zuri to ascertain his father’s progress. Sometime later the boy told him that his tribe was one day away.

  CHAPTER 24

  Carter sent the boats in past the wreck of the French brig. He had searched all the inlets large enough to hide a sloop on his way south without success. Now ahead of him was the beginning of the north side of the delta, a great mass of islands, sandbanks and small bays. He led a small flotilla of three longboats in which he had packed twenty-eight men, leaving only six back with the ships. As they sailed between the islands the breeze dropped away and the sails were stowed; under oars they moved deeper into the shoals. As they rounded yet another island he saw the sloop hauled down on the beach; he also saw an impressive row of guns trained in his direction.

  ‘Turn back,’ he breathed quickly.

  Once out of sight of the ship Carter ran his boats ashore.

  ‘Hide the boats,’ he ordered, ‘and wait for me here.’ Moving slowly through the undergrowth, Carter approached the encampment.

  At last he could look out onto the ship and the guns beyond from the far side of the bay. Men worked on the ship’s hull and a few walked the beach, but where were the rest?