Under the Waves, Robert Michael Ballantyne [ebook reader macos .txt] 📗

the chase was resumed.

It is almost unnecessary to say that it terminated unfavourably for the pirate-chief. For several minutes he continued to dive under the boat while they tried to seize him, and wounded some of the men nearest to him; but his Herculean powers began at last to fail, and he finally floated on the surface as if helpless.

Even this was a ruse, for no sooner was the boat near enough, and the Singapore man within reach of his arm, than he raised himself, and made a cut at that individual with such good will that he split his skull across down nearly to the ears.

Next moment he was hauled into the boat and bound hand and foot.

The scene on board the gun-boat now was a very terrible one. Every man there was more or less begrimed with powder and smoke, or bespattered with blood and soaked with water, while all round the decks the wounded were sitting or lying awaiting their turn of being attended to, and groaning more or less with pain.

On calling the roll after the action was over, it was found that the loss suffered by the gun-boat crew was two men killed and eighteen wounded--a very small number considering the time during which the affair had lasted, and the vigour with which the pirates had fought.

And now was beautifully exemplified the advantage of a man possessing a "little knowledge"--falsely styled "a dangerous thing"--over a man who possesses _no_ knowledge. Now, also, was exhibited the power and courage that are latent in true womanhood.

There was no surgeon on board of that gun-boat, and, with the exception of Edgar Berrington, there was not a man possessed of a single scrap of surgical knowledge deeper than that required for the binding up of a cut finger.

As we have already shown, our hero had an inquiring mind. While at college he had become intimately acquainted with, and interested in, one or two medical students, with whom he conversed so much and so frequently about their studies, that he became quite familiar with these, and with their medical and surgical phraseology, so that people frequently mistook him for a student of medicine. Being gifted with a mechanical turn of mind, he talked with special interest on surgery; discussed difficulties, propounded theories, and visited the hospitals, the dissecting-rooms, and the operating-theatres frequently. Thus he came, unintentionally, to possess a considerable amount of surgical knowledge, and when, at last, he was thrown providentially into a position where no trained man could be found, and urgent need for one existed, he came forward and did his best like a man.

Aileen Hazlit also, on being told that there was need of a woman's tender hand in such work, at once overcame her natural repugnance to scenes of blood; she proceeded on deck, and, with a beating heart but steady hand, went to work like a trained disciple of Florence Nightingale.

To the credit of the timid, and for the encouragement of the weak, we have to add that Miss Pritty likewise became a true heroine!

No average individual, male or female, can by any effort of imagination attain to the faintest idea of poor Miss Pritty's horror at the sight of "_blood_!"--"_human gore_!" particularly. Nevertheless Miss Pritty, encouraged by her friend's example, rose to the occasion. With a face and lips so deadly pale that one might have been justified in believing that all the blood on the decks had flowed therefrom, she went about among the wounded, assisting Aileen in every possible way with her eyes shut. She did indeed open them when it was absolutely necessary to do so, but shut them again instantly on the necessity for vision passing away. She cut short bandages when directed so to do; she held threads or tapes; she tore up shirts, and slips, and other linen garments, with the most reckless disregard of propriety; she wiped away blood from wounds (under direction), and moistened many dry lips with a sponge, and brushed beads of perspiration from pale brows--like a heroine.

Meanwhile Edgar went about actively, rejoicing in his new-found capacity to alleviate human suffering. What the Faculty would have thought of him we know not. All on board the gun-boat venerated him as a most perfect surgeon. His natural neatness of hand stood him in good stead, for men were bleeding to death all round him, and in order to save some it was necessary that he should use despatch with others. Of course he attended to the most critical cases first, except in the case of those who were so hopelessly injured as to be obviously beyond the reach of benefit from man. From these he turned sadly away, after whispering to them an earnest word or two about the Saviour of mankind--to those of them at least who understood English. To waste time with these he felt would be to rob hopeful cases of a chance. All simple and easy cases of bandaging he left to the captain and his chief officer. Joe Baldwin, being a cool steady man, was appointed to act as his own assistant.

From one to another he passed unweariedly, cutting off portions of torn flesh, extracting bullets, setting broken bones, taking up and tying severed arteries, sewing together the edges of gaping wounds, and completing the amputation of limbs, in regard to which the operation had been begun--sometimes nearly finished--by cannon shot.

"How terribly some of the poor wretches have been starved!" muttered Edgar as he bent over one of the captives, attempting to draw together the edges of a sword-cut in his arm; "why, there is not enough of flesh on him to cover his wound."

"There an't much, sir," assented Joe Baldwin, in a sympathetic tone, as he stood close by holding the needle and thread in readiness. "There's one man for'ard, sir, that I saw in passing to the chest for this thread, that has scarcely as much flesh on him as would bait a rat-trap. But he seems quite contented, poor fellow, at bein' freed from slavery, and don't seem to mind much the want o' flesh and blood. Perhaps he counts on gettin' these back again."

"Hm! These are not so easily regained when lost as you seem to imagine, my friend," exclaimed a pompous but rather weak voice. Joe looked up. It was Mr Hazlit, whose bloodless countenance and shrunken condition had become more apparent than ever after he had been enabled to reclothe himself in the garments of civilisation.

"Why, sir," said Joe, gently, "you seem to have bin badly shaken. Not bin wounded, I hope, sir?"

"No,--at least not in body," replied the merchant, with a faint smile and shake of the head; "but I've been sadly bruised and broken in spirit."

Joe, remembering somewhat of Mr Hazlit's former state of spirit, had almost congratulated him on the beneficial change before it occurred that his meaning in doing so might have been misunderstood. He therefore coughed slightly and said, "Ah--indeed!"

"Yes, indeed, my man," returned the merchant; "but I have reason to be supremely thankful that I am here now in _any_ condition of mind and body worthy of being recognised."

As the amateur surgeon here desired Joe to assist him in moving his patient a little, Mr Hazlit turned away, in a stooping attitude because of weakness, and, with his vest flapping against the place where his chief development had once been, shuffled slowly towards the quarter-deck.

It was at this time that the boat which captured Pungarin came alongside, and there was a general movement of curiosity towards the gangway as he was passed on board.

The hands of the pirate-chief were tied behind his back, but otherwise he was free, the cords that had bound his legs having been cast loose.

A howl of execration burst from the captives when they saw him, and several ran forward with the evident intention of spitting on him, but these were promptly checked by the sailors.

Pungarin drew himself up and stood calmly, but not defiantly, as if waiting orders. There was no expression on his bold countenance save that of stern indifference for the crowd around him, over whose heads he gazed quietly out to sea. His brow remained as unflushed and his breathing as gentle as though his struggles for life had occurred weeks ago, though the wet garments and the ragged red jacket told eloquently of the share he had taken in the recent fight.

"Take him below and put him in irons," said the captain.

"Please, sir," remarked the man whose duty it was to secure the prisoners, "we've got no more irons on board. We had only thirty pair, and there's now thirty-eight prisoners in the hold."

"Secure him with ropes, then," returned the captain;--"where is Mr Berrington?" he added, looking round hurriedly.

"For'ard, sir, lookin' after the wounded," answered a sailor.

While the pirate-chief was led below, the captain walked quickly to the place where Edgar was busy.

"Can you spare a minute?" he asked.

"Not easily," said Edgar, who had just finished the dressing with which we left him engaged; "there are several here who require prompt attention; but of course if the case is urgent--"

"It _is_ urgent: come and see."

Without a word our amateur surgeon rose and walked after the captain, who led him to the companion-hatch, leaning against which he found the Singapore man, with his head split across and apparently cut down nearly from ear to ear. From this awful wound two small spouts of blood, about the thickness of a coarse thread, rose a foot and a half into the air. We use no exaggeration, reader, in describing this. We almost quote verbatim the words of a most trustworthy eye-witness from whose lips we received the account.

The man looked anxiously at Edgar, who turned at once to the captain and said in an undertone, but hurriedly, "I can be of no use here. It is quite impossible that he can live. To attempt anything would really be taking up time that is of vast importance to more hopeful cases."

"Sir, do try," faltered the poor man in English.

"Ha! You speak English?" said Edgar, turning quickly towards him; "forgive me, my poor fellow, I did not know that you understood--"

"Yis, me speak Engleesh. Me Singapore man. Go for vist me friends here. Cotch by pirits. Do try, doctir."

While he was speaking Edgar quickly took off the man's necktie and bound it round his head; then, using a little piece of wood as a lever, he passed it through the tie and twisted it until the two sides of the gaping gash were brought together, which operation stopped the bleeding at once. This done he hastily left him; but it will interest the reader to know that this Singapore man actually recovered from his terrible wound after a month of hospital treatment. He was afterwards taken over to Singapore as a natural curiosity, and exhibited there to several doctors who had refused to believe the story. For aught we know to the contrary, the man may be alive and well at the present day. Certain it is that his cure at that time was complete. [Note. We were told this fact by a trustworthy eye-witness.]

It was evening before all the wounds were dressed, and it was dark night ere the disorder