CHAPTER IV.

The Pratta Shoal--The Wreck--The Pirates--Another Wreck--Prospect of Hong-Kong--Wantchee Dinner--Up the River--Bocca Tigris--Getting it properly--A Chinese Landscape--Plenty of Swamp-seed--Our Anchorage--Boats to Fatsan--A Dose for the Long-tails--A dark Watch--Capture of Chuenpee--Trophies: unboiled Goat and boiled Rice--Chasing a Pirate--Bird-scarers--Alarm of Fire--Inspection by Admiral Sir Michael Seymour--The Growlers pacified--Crickets and Bullfrogs--Theatrical Amusement--Discontent--Drop down the River--A Funeral--Hong-Kong, and a Run on Shore--A Prospect--The old Anchorage again--Flogging and Tail-lopping--Rowing Guard-boat--Cooking and Story-telling--A Sanpan of Thieves--Prizes without Profit--A Grumble--See-no-more’s Fund.

Glad enough we all were to get to the end of our voyage. I had not had any dinner when the hands were ‘turned up,’ but I had devoured all my letters. We were not long idle, for the next day we received orders to weigh and proceed to the Pratta Shoal to relieve an English merchant ship which had struck there, and remained wedged upon the reef. We found her in this position, abandoned, and with all her sails flying loose. She was totally lost, as she had broken her back, and the first gale of wind would wash her off the reef, and she would go down in deep water. We took from her all kinds of gear likely to be useful, and then left her to the mercy of the Chinese pirates, whose junks were hovering about. The principal token of the luckless _Annie_ which we brought away was her figure-head, and it was preserved in the ship for years afterwards, and its end was, I believe, fuel for the furnaces. Our next expedition was to Macao, where we had to get old stores out of the wreck of the _Raleigh_.

During the time that we lay at Hong-Kong I had a chance to observe the town, and will try and say a few words about it. It stands at the foot of a lofty and somewhat rugged hill, called Victoria Peak. This hill abounds with springs of the purest water, which trickle down the hill in the hot sunshine with a cooling and pleasant sound; the soil is otherwise unproductive. The general appearance of the town reminded me greatly of Cowes, barring the pretty scenery; the streets are tolerably broad and indifferently paved; the shops are mostly held by Chinese; it swarms with beer-shops, which are kept by broken-down mates of merchant vessels, or by runaway convicts. On landing, if you feel disposed for a feed of puppy-pie or grimalkin-pudding, you have only to accompany one of the many cringing Chinamen who run after you, crying, “Wantchee dinner, Jack? Come my hu’s; me got plenty very good; all samee Inglis fash.” There are many substantial and good houses belonging to Government and wealthy colonists. Fans form a great part of the show in the shops, made entirely of feathers, others of silk and lighter stuffs, many of ivory, and you can have the sticks carved by hand to whatever pattern you may order, such as a shield with a coat of arms, or a cypher, or wreath, all finished according to the copy with very great exactness. Models of temples, pagodas, gods, are often worked in ivory, and from the shavings, interwoven with small pieces of quill, the natives make neat little circular and oblong baskets, very light and elegant.

At length, everything being ready, we started for the river. The shore is wild and rocky at its entrance, and at the Bocca Tigris, where the stream narrows suddenly, the tide sets through like a mill-race, and boats often have great difficulty in making headway against it. We passed the Bogue Forts, which had recently been captured by our people; they were a mere heap of ruins, our shot having told severely upon them. “Them’s the Bogue Forts,” said the old hands, as we passed. “Johnny got it properly there!” Farther up the shore becomes very flat, spreading away to a range of blue hills in the distance, crowded with well-cultivated fields, skirted by rows of willows or bananas running in all directions, full and leafy, but low of stature. Here and there appears a picturesque village. The river, as I guess, is about a mile broad, and deep and rapid. Long rows of piles stand up in numerous places nearly all across, and native boats and junks dot the surface. About six o’clock we arrived in a quiet bend of the stream, within sight of Dane’s Island; the same luxuriant rice-fields spreading still on each side, which occasioned the exclamation more than once from our men, “Well, there’s one good job, we needn’t starve, for there’s plenty of swamp-seed!” And, besides rice, there were groves of orange, bamboo, and ash trees.

Here we dropped anchor, and sent away the launch and pinnace to Fatsan to take part in the action in the morning. The remainder of us who were left on board went to quarters, and loaded the guns with round shot and grape in case of surprise. While doing this we didn’t talk much, only one or two of us youngsters would ask older hands, “D’ye think we shall have a go in?” and were told to “shut up” for our pains; and every gun as we finished with it we thought “another dose for the Long-tails.” The watch was called and kept under arms; the night was intensely dark, and the rain poured down in torrents, and from the adjacent villages we could hear the occasional sullen boom of the gong proclaiming the passage of the night, or the activity of the people, and the savage baying of Celestial watch-dogs. I was on the look-out part of my watch, and I peered into the profound gloom over the bows with keen anxiety, as every ten minutes or so I would hear the often repeated caution, “Keep a good look out there.” “Ay, ay, sir,” would be the ready response, and my eyes were again straining to pierce through the darkness. Oh! how dreary, and long, and weary seemed that middle watch, and what a welcome sound had the bell when it struck eight, and the other watch was called.

On the 18th of June we steamed down the river to attack Chuenpee Fort, just beyond the Bogue, in an angle of the stream; the guns were cast loose, shotted, boarding nettings triced up, and with everything cleared away for action we stood at our guns. We approached the fort, which looked silent and grim, but showed no signs of activity. We came nearer and nearer, and still no hostile movement from the garrison. We got to within thirty yards; but no, either they were endeavouring to draw us on, or they didn’t mean to fight. The _Hong-Kong_, hired steamer, bearing the flag for the time, now sent a 68-pounder over all, but no messenger in reply came from the battery. The marines were quickly landed at the rear of the fort, and, as we half anticipated, found it deserted, with the exception of an old goat and a big copper of boiling rice. All the guns had been buried at the back of the fort, but so hurriedly that the muzzles of several were above ground. We left them undisturbed. Of course this would-be action was a good joke among the men, and many said, “Well, if all Chinee fighting is to be like this, I don’t care a bit; we may as well be doing this as swinging at our moorings; it’s all in the commission.” We often used afterwards to revert jocularly to the glorious 18th of June.

As an offset to this, on the same evening, after we had returned to our anchorage, and as we were mustering for evening quarters, a large piratical row-boat was seen pulling away in shore; “’way there, cutters,” was the decisive pipe, and, quickly manned and armed, we started in pursuit. I pulled stroke oar, and did give way with a will. It was a hot and hard chase, and had we not had injunctions to withhold our fire we might have captured them; as it was, they, with their knowledge of every small creek and bayou of the river, and with their flat-bottomed boat, escaped us, and the twilight was fast merging into night when we gave up the chase.

About a week after this we unmoored, and steamed fifteen miles farther up the river to a new billet. As we advanced the river gradually narrowed, the banks rose higher, and the most delightful scenery presented itself; beautiful groves, growing completely down to the water’s edge, neat little villages, embosomed in trees; while well-cultivated fields spread away into the distance, skirted by rows of bananas and plantains. In some of the fields, where the crops had been newly sown, little boys were seen, as they are in England, scaring the paddy-birds and crows from the grain, and their “halloo-shoo!” sounded very familiar. Stow the youngster out of sight and you would imagine easily you heard a little English rustic. It was different where we anchored. Picture to yourself an extensive river, wide and muddy; you are looking east, up stream, and discern lofty rugged mountains and a bend in the stream, where lie two of Her Majesty’s ships, _Fury_ and _Acorn_. Lower down, and below the barrier, is our ship, her broadsides commanding both banks, which are flat and swampy, and flooded by every tide; on the higher ground flourish crops of watermelons, yams, potatoes; the scenery farther inland is park-like and very rural. We had hardly settled into our place when all hands were startled by an alarm of fire, and every man went to his station, having been drilled for fire as well as firing. But it was nothing of importance, and was soon put out. This was the second since we were in commission; the first happened just as we were leaving Portsmouth. The admiral, Sir Michael Seymour, came up after we had settled into our new berth and inspected us. He expressed himself well satisfied with the ship and crew; but the day before, to have heard many of the sapient Highflyers making remarks, it would have made him seem an “awful fellow.” “Well, Bill, I say, the admiral’s coming aboard to-morrow, at four in the morning, to inspect us.” “Well, God bless him, Jack, he’s a nice old fellow, and I wish him luck.” “If _I_ have to turn out at four I shall give him a prayer,” growled S. “The old ----,” broke in a petty-officer, using a very uncomplimentary word. “He might have waited till after breakfast. We shall have to pull and haul our souls out for him, I suppose.” Petty-officers are apt to be wise in their own conceit, and deliver their opinions accordingly. The one in question walked aft with a very dignified air, as if he considered all admirals a bore, but especially this one. “One fool makes many,” sung out a forward youngster, for which he received a sound box on the ear from a seaman, but whether justly or not I don’t pretend to say. Such was the talk occasioned by anticipations of Sir Michael’s visit. After mustering round the capstan for inspection, we went to general quarters, the well-known signal for which was the rapid roll of the drum, embodying the tune _Hearts of Oak_; the guns were soon cast adrift, and actively knocked about, ‘extreme trained,’ and all but dismounted. The casting loose, loading, and running out, providing of ammunition, were accomplished in three minutes and a half from the roll of the drum, much to the admiral’s satisfaction. After this came cutlass exercise, points and parries, thrusts and guards; and last, but not least, a spell of rifle drill, in which we fired kneeling, forming ‘rallying square,’ extending from the centre, and the like evolutions. The whole of these operations may have lasted about two hours, and those who growled were considerably mollified when after breakfast we had all the rest of the day to ourselves.

About this time there appears in my log, “I hate this weary lying inactive in harbour; sooner by far would I be at sea, then I could at least learn somewhat of my profession.” Sometimes in the evenings we were allowed the use of the launch to sail about the river and bathe, and very often we used to go far up some picturesque creek with the seine and fish till dark, but often, instead of fish, all we got for our trouble was mud and vexation. The nights were often oppressively sultry--it was out of the question to sleep--not a breath of air would be stirring; nothing would be heard but the monotonous chirrup of the crickets, the croak of the bullfrog from the swampy fields skirting the river, and the ripple of the muddy and turbulent stream as it rushed past to mingle its waters with the distant sea. However, even these sounds have a soothing effect on a quiet mind.

On the 13th of July we had an entertainment; our theatre royal was opened by amateur actors, who played two farces, _Fortune’s Frolic_ and the _Camp at Chobham_. We thought the acting good and very amusing, and enjoyed it vastly, testifying our approbation by shrill whistling and noisy cries of “Hencore! hencore!” But the effect of this was soon over, and most of us felt very discontented at being kept idle so long, and we thought there would be a danger of our grounding on our own beef bones.

After a time there came a change. We lifted the anchor, dropped down the river, and met with a storm, in which our launch went down with one poor fellow, who was drowned. We recovered his body, and, seeking out a quiet spot, buried him on Tiger Island, where a simple white cross, in a lonely and savage nook, marks his resting-place. I was one of the funeral party, and as we stood, with heads uncovered, listening to our good chaplain reciting the burial service, the tears came to my eyes, as I thought such a fate might be mine, and, far from home and those I loved, I might find a stranger’s grave. Then we steamed down to Hong-Kong, where all hands had leave for a run on shore for forty-eight hours. What a treat! How I enjoyed it! On the first day, feeling tired, I didn’t exactly know where to go, so I mounted the hill, and espying a little bamboo hut, I made towards it, and offered a good-natured Chinaman a shilling to let me lie down. He agreed with, “Yes, can do, Jack; all ploper;” and on some clean rice-straw I made a luxuriant couch, and lay enjoying the prospect over the town and bay of Victoria, and the neighbouring island of Kow-loon. When thoroughly rested, I strolled down to Happy Valley, which contains the race-course and Christian burial-ground. It is a secluded spot, and very picturesque: low swelling hills encircle it on three sides; on the fourth it is open to the blue and sparkling waters of the bay. The hills are covered with shrubs, firs, and young English forest trees, and look very pretty. The cemetery is situated at the base of one of these hills, shut in by plantations, laid out in good walks, adorned by native plants and well-kept grass, and further by two picturesque chapels; and is so quiet, so profoundly still, one could well feel happy at the thought of being laid in so sweet a spot for one’s last long rest.

After the leave was over we returned to our old anchorage, where we presently had a little excitement in the shape of flogging three Chinamen, who had been entering native villages and extorting a tax in the English name. After the flogging, which was administered on board a junk that lay handy, by a boatswain’s mate, their tails were cut off, and they were turned adrift, as a warning to all other cheating rascals.

All this time there had been various rumours of taking Canton, and early in December (1857) a trooper came up with five hundred marines on board. This looked like doing something; but even now we knew nothing positive, save that we got ready our knapsacks, water-bottles, and havresacs in case we were wanted. The river had been in a state of blockade for months, and every night we had to row guard-boat, which, as it gave us something to do, never wanted for volunteers. We used to leave the ship about eight o’clock and pull away at once to our washing-junk, where all the officers’ clothes were washed, and make the boat fast alongside. Then, having lit the fire, we put the pot on, with meat and potatoes, or yams, and sat down to smoke our pipes and twist yams; that is, to tell stories till supper was ready. No one thought of refusing any of that, and it soon disappeared. One hand used to wash up, clean out the pot, and put it on again full of water, all ready for tea when we came back from going the rounds. The distance was, from the junk round the farthest ship, about a mile, and back to the junk again about twelve o’clock. Then we would have our tea, and sit and talk again till three o’clock; then rounds once more. By the time we could get back it was daylight, so the fire was put out, everything placed in order, and we returned to the ship. As a rule, we were exempt from duty all the remainder of the day; but I have had at times to work hard all day after rowing guard-boat all night.

While we were going the rounds one night, some Chinese boarded the junk and walked off with the ‘slack’ of a fathom or two of cable. We found it out on our return, and determined to lay wait for them. So, instead of all of us going away, three--myself being one--remained on board, all lying flat down on our breasts in the afterpart, with our pistols in hand ready cocked, and intently listening. No sooner had the splash of the guard-boat’s oars died away in the distance, than a sanpan shot out from the sedgy bank of the creek and pulled towards the junk. We let it come close aboard, and one of the rowers was in the act of clambering over the stern, when I fired. He fell back with a yell, and my two comrades, dashing forwards, discharged their pistols at the prowlers. We heard sundry groans, but the sanpan darted away, and was soon lost to sight.

The guard-boat pulled quickly back, heard our story, and shoved off again in the direction the sanpan had taken, but could see or find nothing. One of the men, however, said he could see a fellow creeping along the banks, under cover of the reeds, and directly fired his musket at the object, but still it was there, and upon our nearer approach we found it to be an old tree-stump. Didn’t we laugh at our shipmate--disturbing the silence of the creek with our hearty roars. Then back we went to the junk, and talked over the affair till morning.

Soon after the _Bittern_ brig, with mortars on board, and another trooper with marines, came up, making us look for an end to our idleness. Meanwhile we had something to grumble about. Our captain being senior officer in the river, the heavily-laden junks of all classes, which we were continually capturing during the blockade, were moored in-shore near the _Highflyer_, and hands were appointed to keep a look-out upon them. Some were laden with tea and silk, Chinese native manufactures, clothing, grain, salt; in fact, the very articles that were saleable in the country. Well, here they were, left rotting and no good to anybody, when they ought to have been sent to Hong-Kong, valued and sold, and the proceeds given to us for prize-money. Some ships did this, and why could not we? By-and-by the owners ventured aboard the _Highflyer_, and craved for their property, knowing our captain’s character for kindness, and representing that they were poor, innocent, honest Chinamen, who obtained their living by trading and the hire of their vessels; upon which, in many cases, they were released, and away went the supplicants, laughing in their sleeve at the clemency of the English mandarin. This we thought was not right; the men grumbled amazingly: “Ah! this comes of being along with a rich skipper as don’t care about making money, and thinks nobody else do. Give me a poor man as only got his pay to look after, a fellow might crack a fine crust then.” Some of the receipts, we were told, were sent to Hong-Kong, and put into a fund for the benefit of ships in Chinese waters. Jack used to call it “See-no-more’s fund,” on account of Sir Michael Seymour’s taking charge of it. The money, so far as it went, as we believed, would be given to ships upon their leaving the station and going home; but we never knew what became of the fund, and so paid ourselves by christening it as above-mentioned, and many a joke did Jack crack upon it besides: “The authorities,” he said, “were having sieves made to sift the fund, and after the sixth-sized sieve had done its work, all that remained was to be given to sailors.” And when our mail chanced to be a little over-due, another said, “She had grounded on the bar with the weight of the fund, and our boats were to go away and lighten her.” For a long time it was our standing joke, till, gradually forgotten, we heard of it no more.