A visit to the tailor’s, and a walk round Victoria—Tricks of the coolies—A Chinese festival—Sail for Shanghai—An unexpected meeting—Adventures of the Dragon’s crew—A walk through Shanghai—The midshipmen’s ride into the country—Their pleasure disagreeably interrupted—A ride for life, and a narrow escape—Bring news of the approach of the rebels—Regain their hotel—Aroused by the sound of firing—Shanghai attacked by the rebels—The blue jackets take part in the defence—Treachery defeated—Jerry saves Tom’s life—The rebels defeated—Return on board the Empress—The Orion, Captain Adair, arrives from England—Adair comes on board the Empress—Gerald’s anxiety—An astounding request—Captain Adair communicates some interesting information to Desmond—The fleet assembles, and the army lands on the shores of China. (continued 3)

The heat had been excessive, and the midshipmen were glad to rest until the following morning. During the night it was utterly impossible to make their way through the wood. As no huts had been seen near, they ventured to light a fire, watching carefully that it should not spread, when, as Billy observed, their provisions would have been very much overdone.

After camping, the first thing they had to do was to look out for food. The parrots, for some reason or other, were rather shy, but a troop of inquisitive monkeys came near to ascertain what the strangers were about.

Pipes, who accompanied Tom, urged him to shoot.

“Him very good, very good,” he said.

Tom had of course heard that the creatures were eaten, although he had never tasted monkey. He accordingly fired, and brought down two who were sitting together grinning at him. The rest on this came chattering and screeching to the boughs close above his head, and began to throw down sticks and nuts, some of the latter of which they had been eating, and to spit at him in the most furious fashion.

“Kill more, kill more!” cried Pipes.

Tom again fired, and two others fell to the ground, when the remainder ran shrieking away through the forest. Pipes, taking possession of the game, marched back to the camp with a well-satisfied air.

“You do not mean to say we are to feed on these creatures?” exclaimed Desmond.

“I can’t shoot anything else, and better eat them than starve,” answered Tom.

“Ah! let’s try them,” cried Billy. “Anything better than an empty stomach.”

By the time the monkeys had been cooked the appetites of all the party had considerably increased. Although the midshipmen made some wry faces at first, after a few mouthfuls they went on eating monkey as if they had been accustomed to it all their lives. Nick and Pipes advised that they should keep up the fire all night, as otherwise they might find that somebody had been carried off by a huge species of tiger which they said infested the woods and forests of their country. Their advice was followed, and all hands took it by turns to remain on watch. Billy called up his companions twice, declaring that he saw the head of a huge tiger peering from between the bushes, but he did not fire, as he was afraid of missing. Though Desmond grumbled at being roused up, it was proved that Billy was right by the marks the tiger had left on the ground.

They had not got far the next day when their scouts came back and urged them not to proceed. As to reaching the shore without being discovered, they said that it was impossible, as the country was thickly inhabited and open, their only chance being to pass through it at night. Should they advance much further they would run great risk of being seen.

After searching about Pipes and his companion discovered a good hiding-place, very similar to the one in which they had before concealed themselves. Towards night they could tell, by the soughing of the wind in the trees and the appearance of the sky, that there was a change in the weather.

“I am sure the boats won’t leave us while there is a chance,” observed Tom. “I will make my way alone, with the help of Pipes, and see what has become of them. If I do not come back you will know that I am caught, and I would advise you to try and get to the southward, where you may perhaps find the inhabitants more friendly, and be able to get across to Australia.”

Desmond begged Tom to let him go instead; but Tom had made up his mind to undertake the excursion, and as soon as it was dark he set off with Pipes, who had agreed to go, although he evidently did not like the work. Tom and his faithful attendant set off. They had a long distance to go, and detours to make. Occasionally they heard dogs bark, and saw lights in the windows of huts; but they kept clear of them, and made good progress. They had one or two narrow escapes; and on one occasion both tumbled into a water-course. They, however, scrambled out again, with only the inconvenience of a wetting, which, considering the warmth of the weather, was of no great consequence, even to Tom; and Pipes had only to rub himself over with his hand, and he was dry again in a few minutes. It was nearly daylight, however, before the beach was reached, when they hunted about and found shelter under some rocks, which would prevent their being seen by the people on shore.

Here they waited until daylight, when Tom eagerly looked out for the ship.

“There she is!” he cried out, as the gloom of night clearing away he saw her standing in towards the land, though at some distance to the northward of where he was. Presently a gun was fired, followed shortly afterwards by another. He was about to set off to try and make his way along the beach, feeling sure that the guns were fired as signals to some of the crew on shore, when he saw through his telescope a boat pull out from behind a point and make her way towards the ship, which at the same time swept round until her head was off shore. He had no means of making a signal. Even should he fire his rifle, it would not be heard. To shout would be of no avail. He watched the boat until she was alongside, when she was hoisted up and the ship steamed away. It was high time that she should get off the shore, for a heavy gale had sprung up, sending the heavy breakers with fury against the rock-bound coast.

“There is no chance of our getting off if this continues,” said Tom to himself; “we are left to our own resources, I see that. The best thing would be to start to the southward, as Pipes recommends.”

Tom was eager to return and consult with Desmond, but Pipes earnestly entreated him to remain concealed during the day, and then at night there would be but little difficulty in making their way back to their companions.

It was a melancholy day, as he sat on the sea-shore under the rocks, watching the departing ship. A few shell-fish was the only food he and Pipes could procure. As soon as night came on and the inhabitants had returned to their huts, he and his faithful companion set out. As the storm was howling and making a tremendous noise, there was little danger of being discovered.

Desmond and Billy had become very anxious and were thankful to see them, although Billy uttered a deep groan when he heard that the ship had sailed away, and that he would have some hundreds of miles to trudge through the country. None of them indeed knew what they were about to undertake, and, with the exception of Billy, looked upon the journey as a pleasant excursion.

As Tom had had plenty of time to rest during the previous day, he was ready to set off early in the morning.

Guided by Tom’s pocket compass, they steered westward of south, which was the direction Nick and Pipes wished them to take.

The two Papuans explained that they would have to go out of their way to reach the river, and advised them to keep in the direction they were now pursuing.

During the day they travelled on without stopping, anxious to get away from the sea-board. It was evidently the most thickly populated part of the country, while, judging from what they had seen, there were few or no inhabitants in the interior. In the afternoon, as they were moving on, Pipes, who had been scouting in front, came back and made a sign to them all to get under the cover of some bushes, which he pointed out close at hand.

Scarcely had they crouched down, when they heard the voices of a party of natives who passed close by without discovering them. Further on they came upon a plantation, with a number of women working on it. By turning aside in time, they escaped observation. They were, however, afraid of lighting a fire that night, lest it might betray their whereabouts to the natives. They had, fortunately, preserved some of the cooked meat before starting, and had enough for supper, with the help of some fruit. Tom urged all hands, each man in his turn, to keep a strict watch; for having no fire there would be a great risk of being attacked by wild beasts. All promised to obey his injunctions.

Tom intended to take the first watch, Casey the next, Desmond the third, and Billy—who, it was hoped, after a good sleep, would keep awake—the fourth. The three first had carefully kept their watches, moving round and round their sleeping companions, so that no savage beast could approach unperceived. Desmond, however, fancied that he saw some object moving amid the trees in the gloom. At last he called up Billy, and charged him to keep a bright look-out. “If you don’t, depend upon it you or some of us will be carried off by one of those beasts of tigers,” he said, with much emphasis. “I have not felt so uncomfortable for a long time as I have been during the time I have been on the watch.”

Billy promised to remain broad awake and to keep his weather eye open.

“Mind you do!” said Desmond, as he lay down.

The whole camp was awakened by a fearful shriek and a loud cry from Billy, and starting to their feet, they saw by the light of the day, which had just broken, a huge animal carrying off Peter, the black, in its jaws, while Billy lay sprawling on the ground where he had fallen, his foot having caught in a supple jack, as he was making chase after the depredator. The whole party followed, but the tiger, if tiger it was, quickly bounded out of sight. Tom and the other midshipmen had a sincere regard for honest Peter, and were grieved to think that they had lost him. Rushing on, they caught sight of Peter in the monster’s jaws. But the black was not inactive, for having been seized by the left shoulder, with his right hand, which was free, he was punching the tiger furiously in the eyes. Tom was afraid of firing, lest he should hit Peter; at the same time it seemed scarcely possible that the poor fellow would escape being torn to pieces. Suddenly, however, the tiger gave a spring forward, when the midshipmen saw that Peter was no longer in the creature’s mouth. Tom and Desmond both fired together, but the tiger bounded away. On getting up, what was their surprise to find Peter rising to his feet, and, although his left shoulder was very much torn and he looked somewhat confused, he was well able to accompany them back to the camp. He knew no more about the matter than they did. Suddenly he had felt himself carried off in the jaws of a big animal, and as he said, “naturally made the best use of his fists to get free.”

Billy looked very much ashamed of himself, and was compelled to acknowledge that he must have been dozing, as he certainly did not see the tiger coming.

“It shows that we must keep very wide awake, or none of us will reach the end of our journey,” said Tom. “Now, the sooner we get away from this the better; for the sound of our shots may have attracted the attention of the natives in the neighbourhood.”

Casey, who had been accustomed to see all sorts of wounds, assisted to bind up the hurt of poor Peter, who declared that he was perfectly ready to continue the march. As they were afraid of lighting a fire and had no food, they pushed on during the cool hours of the morning, intending to take a substantial meal as soon as it was too hot to proceed. They had no little difficulty, however, in making their way amid the creepers and climbing plants, which, hanging from tree to tree, interlaced each other in a perfect network. They often, therefore, had to hunt about until they could discover a more open place, through which they could advance.

They calculated that they had pushed forward about ten miles, when they reached a stream, arched over by tall trees, from which hung numberless flowers, bearing climbers of great beauty and of varied and brilliant colours. Many of them were convolvulus-shaped, and of prodigious size, some white and yellow, spotted with red, others of a pale violet. There were scarlet flowers, blue, and sulphur-coloured flowers, and others of similar tints, striped and spotted in the most curious way. But far more interesting to the hungry travellers were the numberless water-fowl, which flew up and down the stream, and Tom and Desmond in a few minutes had knocked over several kingfishers, storks, and ducks, amply sufficient to supply all hands with food.

The two natives had, in the mean time, been searching for honey and nuts, of which they brought in a supply. The latter grew on some enormous trees at no great distance. The natives had picked them up from the ground to which they had fallen, having been bitten off by the parrots. The outer shell was black and hard, about the size and shape of a lemon, and the kernel, enclosed in a thick inner covering, was white and hard, resembling chestnuts when roasted.

“Hurrah!” cried Billy. “We shall run no risk of starving, at all events. These nuts will serve us for bread, and with the honey will stay our appetites.”

The fire was quickly blazing up, and the birds, plucked and spitted, placed before it. A sharp look-out was kept on every side for natives, snakes, tigers, or any other wild beasts which might be tempted to pay them a visit. Tom urged his friends to keep together as much as possible, and always to have their arms ready. After a good rest they again pushed on, and encamped in the evening on the bank of a large river, no doubt the one up which they had come in the canoe.

While Casey and Peter were lighting the fire, the two Papuans were looking out for honey, and Tom and Desmond were shooting some birds for supper, Billy went down to the water to fill a large gourd which Pipes had procured for them. Just as he was about to dip it in, a long snout appeared above the surface, the possessor of which—a huge crocodile—made directly at him. Billy, throwing down the gourd, scampered off. Fortunately for him the monster stopped for an instant to pick up the gourd, which it crushed in its huge jaws, and thus Billy was able to increase his distance.

Pat Casey and Peter, on hearing his cries, started up with their rifles, and as they ran forward uttered loud shouts to distract the attention of the crocodile. Still, so determined was the monster to seize poor Billy, that it did not seem to heed them.

“Jump on one side, sir, jump on one side!” cried Casey to Billy, who followed the advice, and the seaman, levelling his rifle, poured the contents down the crocodile’s throat. It immediately rolled over, and after a few struggles lay dead.

Tom and Desmond considered it advisable on their return to move further away from the river. Fortunately they did so, for while they were sitting round the fire cooking their game, a dozen crocodiles crept out of the water and came towards them. The whole party, starting to their feet, shouted and shrieked, but not until Tom and Desmond had fired down the throats of a couple of the saurians did the rest turn tail, when, plunging into the water, they disappeared beneath the surface.

“If we don’t keep a bright look-out during the night one or other of us will be carried off, depend upon that,” observed Tom.

His warning had a good effect, and it was agreed that two of the party should keep watch together, as they had to risk an attack from crocodiles on one side and tigers on the other, not to speak of big serpents and other creatures. The most dangerous of these were scorpions, several of which were seen five and six inches long, with stings which the natives asserted would deprive a person of life in the course of an hour or less.

“Oh dear, oh dear!” sighed Billy. “I knew the journey would be fatiguing enough, but I little thought the trouble all these horrid beasts would cause us.”

For several days they travelled on along the course of the river, but taking care not to camp near enough to the bank to be surprised by a hungry crocodile. On several occasions they caught sight of tigers, and three were shot which came nearer to them than was pleasant. Among the vast numbers of the feathered tribe which perched in the trees, or flitted amid the boughs, or soared high into the air, were the beautiful birds of paradise, of brilliant colours and graceful forms, which Tom and Desmond agreed it was a shame to kill when they could obtain as much game of a different species as they required. Monkeys of various sizes were seen, some not larger than cats and others half as big as a man. The travellers were moving on, Nick and Pipes scouting in front, the three midshipmen following, Casey and the black bringing up the rear. Presently they heard a loud chattering overhead, and down came a shower of nuts, one of which hit Billy on the nose. The pain made him cry out, when his voice was replied to by shrieks of laughter from overhead, followed by another volley. On looking up they caught sight of a large troop of big monkeys scampering from bough to bough, some of them descending as close as possible in order to get nearer the intruders of their domain.

One old fellow spat right at Desmond, and when he saw that the shot had been successful, shrieked and chuckled with laughter as he climbed back to a more secure part of the bough. The monkeys on this, emboldened by success and increased in numbers, discharged volleys of missiles of all descriptions, some of a very disagreeable character, so that the three midshipmen with their followers were fairly put to flight, the monkeys pursuing them, chattering and shrieking until they made their escape from the forest, which here fortunately came to a termination.

“I’ll pay you off for this!” cried Desmond, who had been a sufferer with Billy, and, firing, he brought down one of the monkeys, on which the rest set up the most fearful cries, shaking their fists and making all sorts of defiant grimaces.

They now entered on a region totally different to any they had hitherto passed through. It was a vast open prairie, covered in many places with long grass, amid which snakes of large size were seen creeping, but Nick assured Tom that they were not venomous, and would afford a meal at any time, should game not be abundant. The difficulty of walking over this grass was considerable, as they had to lift their feet high at every step, while they were exposed to the rays of the sun. Having hitherto obtained as much water as they required, it did not occur to them that they might fail to procure it. They caught sight of herds of buffalo and deer, but none during the day came near enough to be shot. All day they trudged on without water, and were well nigh ready to drop from thirst.

“I shall die if I don’t get something to drink,” cried poor Billy.

Tom got Casey and Peter to lift him up on their shoulders that he might obtain thereby a wider view, but nowhere was a stream or lake to be seen. He, however, caught sight of several round yellow objects on the ground, and on getting nearer, great was the joy of the party to discover that they were melons, the produce of a creeper with ivy-shaped leaves.

The fruit proved even more refreshing than water, and enabled them to march on for several hours during the night. This they did in the hopes of reaching some clump of trees the next day before the sun had attained its greatest height. At last, overcome with fatigue, they were compelled to camp on the open prairie without afire. They were afraid of lighting one lest it should ignite the grass. After a few hours’ rest they again moved on. Already the sun had risen and every moment it was gaining strength, when they saw before them a grove of palm trees rising out of the plain. Although they hastened their steps and went on for some time, they still seemed a long way off, but happily they found an abundance of water melons, which quenched their thirst. Without them they must have perished. They were also getting very hungry, and in the open country no honey or nuts were to be procured, nor did birds come near them. A flight of parrots passed over their heads, but too high up for a shot, Billy was crying out that he should die, when a herd of buffaloes were seen scampering across the plain towards them.

“Down, down!” cried the two Papuans; “dey no see us den.”

The whole party hid themselves in the tall grass, with their rifles ready for action. There seemed great likelihood, however, that the buffaloes would trample them to death as they came rushing furiously on not dreaming of danger. The leading animals were close upon them when Nick and Pipes jumped up and waved their hands, shouting loudly at the same time. This turned the herd slightly, and as they swept by the animals presented a good shot, when their concealed foes, Tom and Gerald, fired, and two young bulls rolled over. The rest were not so successful, and before the first two who had fired had time to re-load, the herd were out of range. The two buffaloes shot were, however, more than sufficient for their wants, and in an instant Casey and Peter, aided by the Papuans, were engaged with their long knives in flaying the two beasts, and cutting off such pieces of flesh as they could carry. Here was a supply of food which would last them as long as it would keep good. The midshipmen did not fancy eating it raw, but the rest of the party were not so fastidious, and cut off favourite bits, which they clapped into their mouths with evident satisfaction. They were, in consequence, better able to bear their loads of meat than the midshipmen, who had satisfied themselves with two or three water melons apiece. At length the clump of trees was reached.

The party seated in the shade enjoyed the cool air which played among the tall stems. Having cleared away the grass in front of them, they lighted a fire and cooked a part of their meat, the rest being cut into strips and hung up in the sun to dry. It was fortunate for them that they took this precaution. For two days or more they travelled on without meeting with a drop of water, but existed as before on water melons, which prevented them suffering from thirst—as valuable to them as the plant of a similar species which exists on the arid sands of Africa is to many a weary traveller, as well as to the wild beasts who roam over those sandy regions.

They were keeping a look-out ahead for some prominent object by which to steer, when, as the sun rose one day, after they had been marching all night, his rays fell on what seemed like a white cone rising out of the plain. As they pushed on and on it rose higher and higher, although it seemed as far off as ever.

“Why, it must be a snow-covered mountain!” exclaimed Tom.

“I hope we shall not have to climb it, although I should not object to a good roll in the snow just to cool myself,” said Billy.

In spite of their eagerness they were compelled to rest as before at the first wood they reached, near the banks of a stream. As most of the party lay fast asleep in the shade, Tom, who was on the watch, observed a herd of small deer apparently coming down to drink. He roused up Desmond, and taking their rifles they crept behind two trees. The deer came on in single file. They were graceful little animals of a dark drab colour on their backs and sides, and white underneath, and pretty large antlers. Without hesitation they at once began to cross the stream, passing along close to where the midshipmen were concealed. Tom selected one animal and Gerald another, and both firing brought the two to the ground. The rest of the deer looked about very much astonished, but did not take to flight. Those who had crossed still continued the same course as before. This gave Tom and Gerald time to re-load, and they brought down two more animals. Not until this did the herd bound off in confusion. The firing had roused up the rest of the party. Tom and Desmond were eagerly rushing out to despatch one deer which was not quite dead, when they saw before them a large tiger, which had been following the herd, and was now going to seize hold of one of the slain deer. The beast looked at them, and seemed about to spring. Neither of them had re-loaded his rifle, Tom immediately began to do so, keeping his eyes on the tiger.

“Don’t move, Desmond,” he cried out, “or the brute will spring on you!” Desmond, imitating Tom’s coolness, also began to load, the tiger in the mean time lashing his tail and showing his huge teeth, while he kept a paw on one of the deer, which he seemed to claim as his prize.

“Now!” cried Tom. “I’ll fire at his head, you at his shoulder.”

Just as the tiger was about to make a spring which might have proved fatal to one of the party, Tom fired and hit him in the head. The creature gave a bound into the air. Desmond’s bullet struck him at the same moment and he rolled over dead.

“Well done, your honour!” cried Casey, who had just come up; “that was a fine shot.”

“Hurrah! we shall have some venison now,” exclaimed Billy, who followed him.

“We shall want it,” said Tom, “if we have to climb those mountains ahead, for very likely we shall find no food there.”

The deer were collected, and without delay all hands set to work to cook some of the fresh flesh and to dry the remainder.

Three days after this they found themselves at the foot of a large and lofty mountain, which if they were to get to the south must be crossed. Each man cut a stout stick, the end of which he pointed in the fire. Their dried meat held out; fortunately they shot a couple more deer out of a herd which came to drink at a pool near their camp, and thus the next morning at daybreak, with their provisions strapped on their backs, they commenced the ascent. The cone which they had seen in the distance rose high on their left hand, but they discovered a passage lower down. Up and up they climbed, feeling the cold increase, and suffering intensely after the heat of the plain. At length they could with difficulty breathe, and a desire to sleep seized all the party. Tom, knowing the danger of giving way to it, urged his companions to keep moving. Once Peter sat down, declaring that he could go no further. Tom and Desmond dragged him up, and told Casey to prick him on with the point of his stick if he attempted to stop again. Poor Billy puffed and panted, and at last declared that “he must have a snooze.”

“It won’t be until you are over the other side,” cried Desmond. “Haul him along! Do you want to leave your bones here, or come with us? Just think of the venison pasties and the parrot pies we will have when we get down into a more civilised country!” Thus urged, Billy exerted himself afresh. None of them could afterwards describe the way they got over the mountain. For several miles they dragged themselves over the snow, with the fear of sinking down into some crevice or hollow, while fearful precipices yawned now on one side, now on the other. The two Papuans held out bravely, and, considering their scanty clothing, this was surprising. For a considerable time the whole party moved on without speaking, staggering as if in sleep. Their eyes were dazzled with the whiteness of the snow, which now surrounded them on all sides. Above their heads hung icicles of fantastic shapes, ornamenting cliff and crag.

At length the summit of the pass was gained, and they commenced their descent, less painful because they knew that soon they would get into a warmer region. By nightfall they reached a valley, where the trees afforded them fuel to light a fire, round which they gathered, its genial blaze restoring warmth to their frozen limbs. For two days more they continued among the mountains, but gradually attained a lower altitude, until at last they once more found themselves in a tolerably level country. As far as they could see to the south, rose here and there ranges of hills, but they hoped, by skirting round their bases, to avoid the sufferings they had lately endured. The cooler air of this region enabled them to make longer journeys than before. They had been travelling along a range of hills, which shut out the country to the south from their view. Having crossed these, they encamped one evening on some rocky ground, from whence they saw away to their left conical mountains, several thousand feet in height, of which they had only just before obtained a view. There appeared to be clouds rising above their summits, of which they, however, took but little notice, as they were busy preparing for the night. Tom and Desmond, as usual, were hunting for game. They had shot several birds and a couple of monkeys, which they immediately brought into the camp to be cooked.

After the heat they had endured, finding the night chilly, they piled up some pieces of rock and slabs of bark to form a shelter from the wind. They had all stretched themselves to sleep, with the exception of Casey, who had to keep the first watch, when they were aroused by a loud exclamation uttered by him, and at the same time by a thundering sound and by feeling the earth shake beneath them. Starting to their feet, their eyes were attracted by a bright light, which rose from the mountain, where shooting upwards, it increased in size, until it assumed a mushroom appearance, the top extending far and wide round the mountain. It was a volcano which had suddenly burst forth. No lava, however, was seen descending its sides, but they felt a shower of fine ashes falling on their heads. The screen they had put up, however, partially sheltered them from it. Nothing further could be done, so they resolved to remain where they were, hoping that the eruption would not increase.

Further sleep was out of the question; all night long they watched the fearful flames, expecting every moment to find a fiery shower falling upon them.

“It might have been much worse,” said Tom. “We might have been close under it, and here, at all events, we only get a little peppered.”

Towards morning the eruption began to subside, and by daylight dense smoke only was seen ascending out of the crater. In spite of their want of sleep, they at once continued their march, hoping to get well to the southward. As none of the party had pocket-books, they were unable to note down a description of the curious creatures they met with and the wonderful scenery they passed through. They frequently saw serpents of fifteen or twenty feet in length, and huge apes, upwards of five feet in height, with hideous features, of almost human shape. They were thankful when they got out of the volcanic region, although they had again to endure the heat of the plains. What was their joy, after ascending a low ridge, to see before them a wide expanse of water, glittering in the sun.

“The sea! the sea!” exclaimed Billy.

Casey and Peter echoed the cry. Had they truly reached the termination of their journey? Tom doubted it. Looking through his telescope, he discovered both to the east and west, a low shore. It might be an estuary extending a long way inland, but they might still be many days’ journey from the coast. Whether it was really the sea or a fresh water lake, could only be determined by getting down to it and tasting its waters.

With stout hearts they marched on. They were now well supplied with food. Seldom many hours passed without their meeting herds of deer and buffalo, from which they obtained an ample supply of food. Smaller game, such as monkeys and parrots, were in abundance in the woods, while there were plenty of streams and lakelets of pure water, in which they often took a refreshing bath.

Billy, whose spirits had risen with the expectation of reaching the coast, insisted to the last that the water they had seen from the height was the sea. Casey and the black agreed with him. At last they got close to it. They all hurried forward. Fortunately the bank they reached was hard, and they without difficulty got down to the water. Billy dipped in his hand.

“It’s fresh!” he exclaimed, as he tasted it.

“I was sure of that,” said Tom. “It’s a lake, and a good big one too. We are a couple of hundred miles yet from the coast.”

They continued their course along the western shore of the lake, and as they spent fully four days before they reached the southern end, calculating by the rate at which they travelled it must have been between seventy and eighty miles long.

After this they had another range of mountains to pass, which, though wild and rugged in the extreme, were of less elevation than those to the north. Once more they were on a level country, covered with tall grass. They crossed several streams, in wading through one of which a huge crocodile made a dash at them and very nearly caught poor Billy.

Nick and Pipes now began to examine the country with more curious eyes than before, and at last led them into a native path.

“Friends there!” said Pipes, pointing ahead, and they saw through an opening in the trees several huts.

The two Papuans hurried on, begging their friends to sit down in the shade. In a short time they returned with a large party of natives, who, ugly as they were, had smiling faces. One of them who seemed to be the chief, advanced to Tom and made him a speech, which Pipes, who had accompanied him, interpreted as an invitation to the strangers to come to his village.

“Good mans!” said Pipes. “Plenty food!” The invitation was, of course, accepted. The chief, taking Tom by the hand and signing to the rest to follow, led him towards the village, which consisted of a number of large huts composed of wooden frames covered with mats, with which the floor was also spread. The chief begged his visitors to sit down, and ordered food to be brought in. A number of yellow-skinned damsels in a short time appeared, bearing boiled rice and messes of roasted and stewed monkey and yams. Whatever the midshipmen might formerly have thought of such a repast, they acknowledged that this was delicious. Calabashes full of toddy, prepared from the sap of the cocoa-nut tree, were then introduced.

“I say!” said Tom, after he had drunk two or three cups, “we had better not take too much of this, or we shall find ourselves fou.”

They wisely declined a pressing invitation of the chief to imbibe any more of the apparently harmless liquor, but their two Papuan friends, after their long absence, seemed to enjoy it, and were in a short time perfectly drunk. This was a misfortune, as they could no longer communicate with the friendly chief. However, he made signs to them to lie down on their mats. Feeling confident of his honesty, they willingly complied with his request.

After a day’s rest, which all the party greatly required, Nick and Pipes having recovered, they set off for a village on the coast, about thirty miles distant.

Here the two Papuans found friends and relatives, who welcomed them cordially, having long given them up for lost. The chief of the village, to whom Nick and Pipes were related, requested the midshipmen to take up their abode in his hut. It was situated in the midst of a grove of magnificent trees, and near it was a garden, in which were growing yams, bananas, pumpkins, and many other vegetables and fruits. They were glad to accept the invitation, as the hut was of considerable size, the floor spread neatly with mats, and perfectly clean. The reception over, they made their way down to the shores of the harbour, where, among several Chinese and other strange craft, what was their satisfaction to see an English brig.

Chapter Twelve.

The master of the Fox—Bargain for a passage—Trading with the natives—Farewell to friends—The skipper’s rascally trick—The Fox with the midshipmen on board at sea—Bad fare—Fishing—A shark captured, and the skipper knocked over—Short of water—The Fox struck by a squall—Capsized—The midshipmen hold on to the side of the brig—In a desperate condition—A sail—Taken off by a boat from the Empress—Fox founders—Welcomed on board—Sydney reached—A pleasant visit on shore—Bound for New Zealand.

While the midshipmen were standing on the shore of the harbour a boat put off from the brig, and came towards them. She was pulled by four hands, two of whom were blacks and two Malays. A stout white man, in a broad-brimmed straw hat, evidently the skipper, sat in the stern sheets. On landing, the latter, looking hard at them, and surveying their travel-stained, tattered uniforms, inquired—

“Where in the world do you come from?”

“From the other side of New Guinea,” answered Tom. He briefly narrated their adventures. “We want to get on to Sydney, where we expect to find our ship. Can you take us there?” he added.

“That depends on circumstances,” answered the skipper. “Can you pay for your passage?”

“We can work it, at all events, and I have no doubt that our captain will pay any sum we agree to,” said Tom.

Tom did not like either the manner or appearance of the skipper. Of course he did not express his opinion, either by words or looks.

“Are you bound for Sydney?” inquired Tom; “for, if so, we may come to terms.”

“As to that, I should not mind putting in there, provided you will pay the expenses. I was thinking of going further south, but I have not quite made up my mind,” was the answer. “The Fox is a fine craft, and you will not have another chance of getting to Sydney, or to any other English port for many months to come. Few British traders touch here.”

“I see several Chinese junks and Malay proas. We may have a chance of getting to Banda, or to some Dutch port, or Singapore,” said Tom, determined not to be done, if he could help it, by the master of the Fox.

“You will wish yourself on board the Fox if you sail in one of those craft, I can tell you,” said the skipper. “Come, you had better close with me, and I’ll undertake to land you at Sydney. What do you say now to 30 pounds a head, and payment for such provisions and liquors as you consume? It will be a mighty deal better than sweltering on here in this hot place, with a chance of being knocked on the head, or being brought down by fever.”

Tom thought the charge exorbitant, as probably no small sum would be added for provisions. He drew Desmond and Billy aside to consult with them. They were of opinion that the captain would certainly be unwilling to pay so large an amount. They soon returned to where the master of the Fox was standing watching them.

“May I ask your name?” said Tom.

“Yes; it’s Stubbins; I’ve no reason to be ashamed of it.”

“Well, Captain Stubbins, we will pay you twenty pounds a-head for ourselves, and fifteen for each of our men, besides a pound a day for provisions.”

“You are sharp young gentlemen, I’ve an opinion,” said the skipper. “If you don’t like my terms you will stay here until you wish you had accepted them. I shall not be away for a fortnight or more, for I only came in yesterday, and have to get rid of my cargo and take a fresh one on board.”

Accompanied by Captain Stubbins they returned to the hut of the chief, who was, they found, the principal trader in the place. He and the skipper appeared to be well acquainted, and arrangements for trading were soon concluded. The Fox had brought a cargo of very miscellaneous articles, consisting of gorgeously coloured calicoes of patterns such as to attract the savage taste—firearms, powder and shot, axes, knives, other articles of ironware, and no small amount of execrable rum and other spirits. The skipper invited the natives on board, and took good care to ply them with liquor before he commenced trading. The chief and his people had stores collected for the purpose, consisting of birds of paradise, and monkey skins, pearls, various kinds of wood and bark and gums, drugs and spices, besides cocoa-nuts, and other fruit and vegetables.

They showed themselves keen traders; and it was evident that, should they meet with a certain sale and obtain fair prices, they would be ready to collect a large amount of valuable produce, such as there can be no doubt their country furnishes.

Captain Stubbins, having obtained all the produce which had been collected by the natives, urged them to obtain a supply from other villages in the interior; and parties set off in various directions with the goods they had brought to make purchases. Thus the midshipmen were detained a month instead of a fortnight; and, as Captain Stubbins would not abate his demands, they were finally compelled to accept them. Immediately they had agreed to his terms, the skipper’s manner changed. He appeared to be anxious to accommodate them in every way in his power. He persuaded them to come and live on board, as they would be more comfortable than in the hut of the chief, and he would be ready, should the wind come fair, to put to sea at any moment, without having to wait for them. The midshipmen agreed to his proposal, carrying with them several monkeys, and cages full of birds, which the hospitable chief had given them. In return for all his kindness they presented him with their own rifles, while they gave to Nick and Pipes two seamen’s muskets, and such other articles as they could spare, promising to send the honest fellows more should an opportunity occur of forwarding the things from Sydney, as a reward for their fidelity. The two Papuans and their chief were highly delighted and grateful for the gifts, which they looked upon as an ample return for the services they had rendered.

The brig looked like a menagerie, with the number of creatures which the captain and crew were taking, mostly monkeys and birds, such as were not to be found in Australia.

The natives now returned with a considerable amount of produce, which the skipper received on board, promising to send the goods in payment on shore. In the mean time he presented, with apparent generosity, some kegs of spirits to the chief and his people.

The midshipmen, Casey, and Peter had turned in for the night, which was very dark, with the wind off shore. They heard the skipper go on deck, but were soon asleep again. Not long after this they were awakened by the sound of the windlass.

“Why they must be weighing anchor!” exclaimed Tom.

He and Desmond dressed, and went on deck. The brig was already under way, standing out of the harbour.

“Why, Captain Stubbins, you’ve forgotten to send the goods on shore, in return for the produce which came off yesterday!”

“Bless my heart! so I have!” answered the skipper, with a hoarse laugh. “I’ll pay the people the next time I come here; but they are too drunk by this time to know whether I have paid or not; and, knowing that you were in a hurry to get to Sydney, as the wind was fair, I could not resist the temptation of putting to sea.”

Tom made no reply, but he had a very strong suspicion that the skipper had intended to cheat the poor natives, and such, indeed, he found to be the case.

When morning dawned, the Fox was far beyond the possibility of pursuit by the natives, even had the chiefs been in a condition to follow her, which in all probability they were not, owing to the cunningly bestowed kegs of liquor. The breeze continued, and the Fox made good way. The skipper and his mate were constantly on the look-out to avoid the rocks and shoals which so thickly dot the entrance to Torres Straits. The brig then stood to the eastward, so as to run well clear of the coral reefs which fringe the north-eastern portion of Australia. Tom and his companions were thankful at length to find themselves, after all the dangers and toils they had gone through, on their way to a place where they could hope to meet with their ship; at the same time, there was little comfort to boast of on board. Their berths were narrow recesses on either side of the little cabin, which was close in the extreme, and swarmed, moreover, with cockroaches and other creeping things, scorpions and centipedes, which had come on board with the cargo and occasionally made their appearance.

“I don’t care for the beasts, hungry as they are, but it is not pleasant to know that one may be stung at any moment by them,” said Desmond, as he brought his knife down on one which had fallen on the breakfast table.

As long as their fresh provisions lasted, they fared pretty well, but when these were exhausted, they were reduced to very short commons, and, as Desmond observed, “very bad of its sort.” Salt junk, which had made, perhaps, more than one voyage round the world, and mouldy biscuit, constituted the chief ingredients of their meals. The midshipmen complained, but the skipper replied that he gave them the best he had. Billy especially declared that he should die of inanition. “Salt junk never agreed with me at the best of times, and this is more like old horse than beef,” he groaned, as he turned about a piece of black-looking stuff at the end of his fork.

The men were quite as ill off—they could not be worse; but when they found their officers faring as badly as they were, they could not complain. The old brig sailed like a tub even in a breeze, and at last the wind dropped and they lay becalmed day after day with the sun striking down on their heads. They had found it hot enough very frequently in travelling through the country; it was here sometimes even hotter. On their journey they had had at all events abundance of food, refreshing fruits, and clear water, while now they had only tepid, thick, brackish liquid to drink. When they made faces as they poured it out at meal time, the skipper remarked with a grin—

“You’re better off than if we had none, and if we are many weeks longer on the voyage maybe we shall be in that condition.”

Tom suggested that as soon as a breeze sprang up, they should steer for Brisbane, or one of the northern Australian ports, but the skipper would not listen to any such proposal. He preferred keeping the open sea, free of the reefs which existed nearer in with the land. Tom observed that they were already much further to the eastward than was necessary, but Captain Stubbins, though he was evidently no great navigator, declared that he knew his way as well as any naval officer, and refused to lend Tom his quadrant to make an observation.

Billy looked very melancholy, and declared that should the voyage continue much longer he should give up the ghost.

“If we could catch some fish we should do better,” said Tom. “Suppose you ask the skipper if he has got any hooks and lines.”

“I doubt whether the old fellow will take the trouble to look them out if he has,” observed Desmond.

Billy applied as was proposed, and greatly to his delight the mats produced a shark hook and several others of smaller size, with a supply of lines. In a few minutes all hands were busy with lines overboard with bits of pork and beef for bait. Several curious fish were hauled up, but the native crew pronounced them poisonous, and declared that those who ate them would die. This was tantalising.

While they were engaged in the sport, Toby—Desmond’s favourite monkey, whom he had taught all sorts of tricks—hopped on the bulwarks to see what they were about.

“Take care what you are doing, Master Toby,” sang out Desmond, springing forward to catch the monkey, who was in dangerous proximity to the shark hook line. Toby, expecting to be caught, made a spring, but having no rope to take hold of, lost his balance, and over he went into the water.

Desmond, who was fond of the little animal, threw a line, calling to him to catch hold of it, but the monkey, finding itself in the water, was too much alarmed to obey his directions.

“I’ll go after him,” cried Desmond, and was on the point of leaping overboard, when Toby uttered a cry of agony, a black snout was seen to rise for an instant, the white of a shark’s belly glanced in the water, and Toby disappeared beneath the surface.

“The horrid brute!” exclaimed Desmond; “we will pay him off for this if we can.”

The fishermen persevered, and Desmond caught a good-looking fish and Tom another.

“I’ve got one!” cried Billy, pulling away. “Here, Desmond, come and help me haul it in—he must be a big fellow.”

They hauled away at the line, which suddenly came up very rapidly, when a shark’s nose appeared above the water; it was but for a moment, and the next Billy and Desmond were sprawling on the deck with the hook bitten off some way above the shank.

“Bad luck to the beast! It’s the same which ate up poor Toby,” cried Desmond, as he picked himself up.

“I only hope he will not run away with any more of our hooks,” said Tom. “It will be as well to haul them in before he gets hold of them.”

Directly afterwards the line with the shark hook attached was seen to be pulled violently.

“Hurrah! the voracious brute has got hold of the hook intended for him,” cried Tom. “Let’s haul him in before he breaks clear.”

All hands ran to the line. Casey made a bowline round the line, ready to slip over the shark’s head as soon as it should appear above water. Could it once be got round its body, its capture would be certain.

Peter, in the mean time, got another ready to slip over its tail. The mate and some of the Malays came to the assistance of the midshipmen. Keeping a steady pull on the line, they soon brought the head of the big shark to the surface. It had bolted the hook, and was biting away at the chain secured to the shank.

“He’ll be through it if we don’t make haste!” cried Tom. “Quick, quick, Casey! slip the bowline round him!”

The seaman managed dexterously to do this, and the rest of the crew, hauling away, at length got its body out of the water. It was a huge creature, ten feet long. It struggled desperately, beating the water into foam alongside, so that it was some time before Peter could get a rope round its tail. That done it was a close prisoner.

“Keep all the lines taut, or he’ll be wriggling through them and carry off the hook and line!” cried Tom. At last it was got up flush with the bulwarks, when down it came, knocking over poor Billy and two of the native crew. Had not Tom and Desmond rushed forward and hauled Billy out of the way, he would have been beaten into a mummy by the furious lashing of the creature’s tail. For several moments it had possession of the deck, until at length Casey and Peter, having got hold of an axe apiece, rushed up and each dealt him a blow across the tail, springing back the next instant out of its way. Again and again they had to repeat their blows. It was some time before the struggles of the monster ceased.

“I shouldn’t like to be in the way of that fellow’s jaws,” exclaimed Billy, as he examined the shark’s head.

Just then the creature gave a heave, and Billy sprang back, knocking over Peter, who, in his turn, tumbling against the skipper, brought him sprawling to the deck. Captain Stubbins, getting up, furiously attacked poor Peter, as if he had tumbled against him intentionally, and, seizing a rope, began to belabour him severely. This excited Tom’s and Desmond’s indignation.

“You’ve no business to treat the poor fellow in that way,” exclaimed Tom; “and I’ll not allow it!”

“Who are you?” said the skipper. “This is mutiny, and I’ll clap you and your companions in irons as soon as look at you.”

“We are Queen’s officers, and cannot allow a man under our charge to be treated as you have this poor fellow,” answered Tom, in a determined tone.

The skipper, muttering a furious oath, without another word retired to his cabin, and presently re-appeared with a pistol in his hand, and another sticking out of his pocket.

Tom fixed his eye calmly upon him. “We do not fear your threats, Captain Stubbins,” he said. “If you were to kill one of us, you would be guilty of murder, and would be hung to a certainty. Let me advise you, then, to take those pistols back to your cabin. We have no wish to insult you or to dispute your authority. Our messmate, who was the cause of the black’s falling against you, is ready to apologise: I hope that will satisfy you.”

“Really, Captain Stubbins, I am very sorry for what has happened,” exclaimed Billy; “and I am sure the shark would be if he could speak, for he, after all, was the cause of your misfortune. Had he not given so unexpected a plunge, I should not have tumbled down nor knocked over Peter, and Peter would not have knocked over you. I promise you it shall not occur again, for I’ll keep clear of him until we have a few delicately browned slices placed on the table. I never ate shark, but I’ll undertake that it shall be better than the salt beef we have on board.”

By the time Billy had finished his apology the skipper’s anger had somewhat cooled down, but he still walked the deck with a pistol in his hand, and Tom and Desmond kept an eye upon him lest he should all of a sudden take it into his head to fire at one of them. At last, greatly to their satisfaction, he went below, and replaced the pistols in his berth.

Several other fish were caught after this, so that the midshipmen were not reduced to eat the shark. On cutting it open, poor Toby was discovered within, and served as a bonne bouche to the crew, the midshipmen contenting themselves with the fish.

As long as the calm lasted, and fish could be obtained, the passengers and crew of the Fox did not fare ill; but as the midshipmen were anxious to get over a disagreeable passage and rejoin their ship, they would gladly have gone on short commons and made a quick passage. The water every day became worse and diminished in quantity, and they had serious apprehensions of what might be the result.

“If we could manage to construct such a still as our friend the American doctor formed on the sand-bank, we might obtain fresh water,” observed Tom.

“I’m sure I don’t know exactly how it was done,” answered Desmond, “but I remember the principle, and feel pretty sure that I could manage it if any one on board understands blacksmith’s work. Steam we can produce fast enough from the largest tea-kettle on board; the chief difficulty will be the condenser.”

When, however, Tom mentioned his idea to Captain Stubbins, the skipper laughed at him, and declared that he could not do it if he tried, as there was no blacksmith on board. A breeze springing up made it less necessary for Tom to try his experiment, and the skipper asserted that the water would hold out until they could get into Sydney. He was, however, all this time keeping much further to the eastward than was necessary. Tom and Desmond agreed that he was not aware how far off he was from land, though he would find out his mistake when he came to haul to the westward.

“Well, I do wish this voyage was over,” exclaimed poor Billy, on whom the hard fare was beginning to tell, though he had wonderfully withstood the long journey across the country. “I shall be losing the number of my mess if this horrid brig doesn’t make better way than she has hitherto been doing.”

There seemed every probability of the voyage being prolonged. Now the wind was contrary, now it again fell calm; and even with a fair wind the tub of a brig seldom made more than five or six knots an hour. The heat of the cabin was such that the midshipmen never remained below longer than they could help, and much of the night was spent on deck. The skipper, on the contrary, seemed seasoned to any amount of heat, and was constantly below.

One night, after a supper of hard, cold, salt beef, which they could only eat by cutting it into the thinnest of slices—mouldy biscuit, rum and muddy water—they went on deck, where they found Casey and Peter, who had been taking a meal of the same description. Excepting the watch, the rest of the crew were below.

“Any chance of our getting in, sir?” asked Casey of Tom. “It is pretty well time we should be there, for I’ve been trying to learn what quantity of water we have got on board. As far as I can make out, we’ve not got a gallon at the most, and that won’t keep our tongues moist for more than a couple of days.”

“I doubt whether the master himself is aware of this,” said Tom, “for he takes the matter very easy, and he ought to have put all hands on an allowance before this. He must do so, or we shall be dying of thirst before we drop anchor in Sydney harbour.”

The brig was at this time under all sail, but the wind was light, and she was making little way. Suddenly her sails gave a loud flap against the mast.

“We are going to have another calm, I fear,” said Desmond.

“I’m not quite so sure of that,” said Casey. “I’ve been watching the sky, and it seems to me as if a thick gloom was spreading over it. I’ve observed a dark bank rising rapidly to the southward and eastward. Look, sir, you cannot see a star in that quarter. If I was the mate, I’d shorten sail at once.”

Tom and Desmond took a survey of the horizon in the quarter to which Casey was pointing. The bank was rising rapidly; it looked, indeed, as if a dark curtain was being drawn over the sky.

“I’ll point it out to the mate,” said Tom.

On going aft, Tom found the mate seated close to the taffrail. Instead of keeping a look-out, he was fast asleep. Tom roused him up, and pointed out the appearance of the sky.

“I don’t think it’s anything,” he observed, rubbing his eyes.

“It is, though,” cried Tom. “Listen to that roar.”

At that moment a dull rushing sound was heard, and a long streak of white was seen extending from east to south-west across the ocean.

“Turn the hands up! shorten sail!” cried Tom.

The mate repeated the order. The midshipmen sprang to the main-topsail halyards, Casey and Peter to the fore-topsail; but almost before a rope could be let go, a fierce blast struck the brig. In vain the mate tried to put the helm up. Over she heeled more and more, until the yardarms touched the water. Tom and Desmond seized hold of Billy, who had just before dropped off to sleep, and scrambled up to the weather bulwarks. Casey and Peter had been doing the same. Another instant and the brig was on her beam ends, with the water rising up to the combings of the hatchway.

Believing that the brig was going over, the midshipmen and their companions got on to the outside of the bulwarks, holding on to the main-chains. As the lee side of the sails was already under water, there was no probability that the brig would rise again. Every moment, indeed, it seemed as if she must go down. Their position was truly a fearful one.

The mate and the man at the helm had apparently slipped off into the water, as they were nowhere visible. Of the two men forward, one only succeeded in gaining the bulwarks, the other had probably shared the fate of the mate. The condition of those below was terrible. Unable to gain the deck, they were probably drowned in their berths. Although the main hatchway was closed, the fore and companion hatches were open.

The wind howled over the doomed brig; the sea was getting up. The midshipmen believed that she must quickly founder and their fate be sealed.

“We have gone through many a danger together,” said Tom, to Desmond; “but I believe our time has come at last. I wish my brother Jack could have known our fate. He will be very sorry for us, and so will those at home.”

“It cannot be helped,” said Desmond. “I should have liked to live longer, and we are better off than the poor fellows drowning in their berths.”

“What! Do you think the brig is going down?” cried Billy. “Dear me, how dreadful; can’t we get something to float upon?”

“As the water is rushing into her fearfully fast, I don’t see what chance there is of her floating,” answered Tom. “However, we will not give up all hope while she remains above water. Perhaps, when the squall is passed over, we may manage to scramble out along the masts and cut away the topgallant yards, and get hold of some of the gratings or spare spars to form a raft.”

“We must be quick about it, then,” observed Desmond; “for the old craft may go down at any moment.”

“While the wind is blowing as it is now, there is no use making the attempt,” said Tom. “She does not appear to me to have sunk lower than she did when she first went over. She has a light cargo, and will float longer than a vessel heavily laden.”

The midshipmen, however, could not talk much, for it was a difficult matter to make each other hear, what with the sound of the wind, and the sea dashing against the hull of the brig, while showers of spray fell over them. They could distinguish the figures of Casey and Peter, with another man holding on to the fore-rigging, but as yet they had been unable to exchange words with them, and were afraid to let go their hold, lest they should be washed off by the sea. The gale continued to blow furiously, and for two hours a perfect hurricane raged. It suddenly ceased, and the sea—though not so rapidly—began to go down. On this their hopes revived. Tom was anxious to ascertain Casey’s opinion, and made his way to the fore-rigging.

“I’d stick to the hull, sir,” answered Pat. “The brig has floated so long; she may float longer, and we had better wait until daylight before we attempt to make a raft. We may chance to slip off into the sea, or one of those savage sharks may be watching a chance to get hold of us.”

Tom followed Casey’s advice, and without much difficulty regained his former position. Never had a night appeared so long to any of the party. Notwithstanding their position, however, Billy was constantly dropping off to sleep, and Tom and Desmond had to hold him on, or he would to a certainty have fallen into the water. As the morning approached, the sea became perfectly calm. They would have been thankful for the breeze, which might bring some vessel to their succour. What hope could they have of surviving many hours on the bottom of the brig? The sun rose. Almost exhausted, the midshipmen could with difficulty hold on. As they turned their weary eyes in all directions, not an object was in sight.

“No land to be seen?” asked poor Billy.

“That may be a couple of hundred miles away, I fear,” answered Tom.

“Any vessel coming to our help?” again inquired Billy, who, stretched on the rigging, could not lift his head.

“Without a breath of air, there is no chance of that,” said Desmond; “but cheer up, Billy, perhaps a steamer will be coming this way.”

“There are not many likely to be cruising in this direction,” observed Tom. “However, as I have said all along, we will hope for the best.”

“Oh! I’m so hungry; so thirsty,” moaned the younger midshipman. “Can’t you get me something to eat?”

“If we were to go into the cabin, we should find nothing,” said Desmond. “The last cask of water was on the starboard side, with the hung out, and must be full of salt water by this time.”

The midshipmen again relapsed into silence.

The sun rose higher and higher, its beams striking down with fury on their heads; even Tom, who was the strongest, felt that they could not hold out much longer. Hour after hour went by; still, if they were not to perish, something must be done. He asked Casey and the other men whether they had by chance any fish-hooks in their pockets? They searched, but in vain, and as to going below to look for them, they all declared that it would be impossible. The brig, however, continued to float; that was something, but Tom could not help acknowledging that they would be unable to hold out another night. Even he, as he felt the pangs of hunger and his mouth parched with thirst, began to despair. Desmond and Billy were already far gone. He gazed at the countenances of his two messmates. “They’ll never see another sun rise, and shall I?” Tom began seriously to consider how best to prepare himself for his inevitable fate.

Just then Casey sang out, “A breeze! a breeze! I felt it on my cheek, a moment ago!” He endeavoured to wet his finger with his parched tongue, but could hardly do so. He held up his hand. “It’s from the southward, and if we can manage to build a raft, we may yet reach the land, or get into the line of vessels running between Sydney and the northern ports.”

These exclamations aroused Tom; even Desmond looked up.

“A breeze! Yes, indeed, there is, and a sail too. She is standing towards us!” He pointed to the southward. A patch of white canvas, on which the sun was shining brightly, appeared on the blue ocean. Casey, at at the same time, caught sight of it.

“Hurrah! hurrah! we are saved; she cannot fail to see us.”

The cheer was taken up by his companions in misfortune. Even Billy lifted up his head.

“Is it true, Rogers, that you see a sail?” he asked.

“As true as that we are here, but we must not make too sure of being discovered,” replied Tom.

“Sure, they would not be after passing us, if they once get sight of the wreck,” said Desmond.

“That’s just what they may not happen to do,” answered Tom, who had become much less sanguine than formerly, and, hungry and worn out, was inclined to look on the dark side of things.

The breeze increased, the stranger drew nearer and nearer. Tom and Desmond were both of opinion that she was a man-of-war. Casey thought the same. The question was, however, whether she would pass them by. She was steering due west, and an object so low in the water as the hull of the brig now was, might not be visible. On she came, until she was about south-east of them, and as yet it was evident that those on board had not seen the wreck, though she herself was easily made out to be a large man-of-war steamer. Proudly she was gliding on, when her yards were braced up and she stood towards the brig.

“Thank Heaven, there is no longer any doubt about it!” cried Tom. “Rouse up, Billy, rouse up, my boy! We are all right! Here comes the steamer to our assistance, and more than that, I’m very sure that she is the Empress, or a craft so like her that it would be difficult to distinguish one from the other.”

Poor Billy could only raise his head and smile faintly, as he ejaculated, “Thank Heaven, too!”

Tom was undoubtedly right. In a few minutes more the Empress was almost within hail, a boat was lowered, and with rapid strokes came pulling towards them. Mr Norman, from whom they had last parted on the coast of Papua, was in her, but he evidently did not recognise them, supposing them to be part of the brig’s crew.

“Slide down, and we will catch you,” he cried out, as the boat pulled close to the keel of the brig, the rigging preventing her approaching the deck side.

“Billy shall go first,” said Tom, and making a rope fast round their messmate, he and Desmond lowered him down.

“Handsomely, handsomely!” cried the lieutenant, “or that boy’s skin will be torn off his back. Why! who have we here?” exclaimed Mr Norman in astonishment, looking at Billy’s haggard countenance and recognising him rather by his faded and tattered uniform than by his features.

“Don’t you know me, sir?” asked Billy, in a faint voice. He could say no more.

“Bless my heart, is it you? and are those Rogers and Desmond?”

“Here we are, to answer for ourselves,” said Tom, who, with Desmond, had managed with the aid of the rope to get down close to the boat, into which they were helped by the men, although in their weak state, so overcome were they by the exertion they had made, that they could hardly stand. They were handed into the stern sheets, and the boat then moving on took off the other three men in the same fashion. Scarcely were they dear of the brig than she righted, and as she did so began rapidly to settle down.

The midshipmen and their companions were received with hearty congratulations on board the Empress, by no one more so than by her captain, who was truly thankful to get back his younger brother, about whose fate he had long been intensely anxious. The Orion, which had been astern, now came up, and Adair was informed that his nephew was safe, although apparently in a precarious condition.

It was several days before the midshipmen could give an account of their adventures. When once they were able to use their tongues, they had very little rest, for every one was eager to know what they had done and seen, and it must be acknowledged that sometimes they were inclined to indulge their hearers with travellers’ tales.

By the time they reached Sydney they were well enough to come on deck and have a look at the magnificent scenery of that superb harbour.

Of their stay there, although full of interest to themselves, but a brief account alone can be given. They were received in the kindest way by the inhabitants, and spent some weeks at the house of an old friend of the Rogers’ family.

Their friends, Mr and Mrs Calvert, had several daughters, who contributed not a little to make their stay agreeable. On their first arrival the young gentlemen were compelled to keep their rooms, as it was considered that they had not sufficiently recovered to bear the excitement of society. They were not allowed to starve, however. A handsome repast had been sent up to them, and they were pledging each other in glasses of light Australian wine, which they found very refreshing, when the two captains entered the room.

“I congratulate you,” said Jack, as he handed two official-looking letters, the one to Tom and the other to Desmond, respectively addressed Lieutenant Thomas Rogers and Lieutenant Gerald Desmond.

The envelopes contained their commissions.

“Those papers, I suspect, will do more to set you up than anything else,” said Jack.

“Indeed they will, although they have been long enough in coming,” answered Tom.

“Faith! I could get up and dance a jig forthwith,” exclaimed Desmond.

“You’d better not, in case the ladies should arrive to congratulate you,” observed his uncle.

“Is there no letter for me? I wonder when I shall get promoted!” asked Billy from his corner of the room.

“All in good time,” answered Jack. “Perhaps you will have an opportunity before long of doing something to distinguish yourself.”

Next morning the two lieutenants and Billy were able to come downstairs. Their promotion had had a wonderful effect on Tom and Desmond, who talked and joked at a great rate with their fair hostesses. As might be supposed, the young lieutenants lost their hearts, and even Billy Blueblazes, though still a midshipman, became more sentimental than he was ever before known to have been, the most juvenile of the ladies being the object of his adoration. A copy of verses, which he had begun to compose in her praise, though as yet he had not got very far in them, afforded a subject of amusement to his messmates.

Their visit on shore was, however, brought abruptly to an end, in consequence of the two ships being ordered off to New Zealand.

Chapter Thirteen.

Warfare in New Zealand—Blue-jackets from Empress and Orion land—A desperate attack on a pah—The pah captured—A night march—The party lose their way—Gain the top of a hill—Bivouac—Attacked by a large party of Maoris—A gallant defence—Many killed—Tom wounded—Nearly overwhelmed—Jack holds out bravely—Succoured in time by Adair and Desmond—Assault on the pah—Deserted by the garrison—A night march to attack a village—Desperate defence of the inhabitants—The old chief’s granddaughter—Tim proposes to splice her offhand—The end of the contest—Homeward bound—Billy struck by moon-blindness—A thunderstorm—Billy restored to sight—The Orion lost sight of—The Empress reaches Spithead.

Each of the two ships carried a party of volunteers, who had been raised to assist the New Zealand colonists and regular troops in putting down the Maori rebellion, which had some time before broken out.

The part of the northern island of New Zealand in which the natives had taken up arms, is a region of mountains, hills, and valleys, with lakes and streams, and several rivers of considerable size, the Thames and the Waikato being the largest. The ground is either covered with dense forest or scrub, or long grass, and the thickly growing flax plant, which afforded cover to the Maoris in their engagements with the British troops. The rebels had frequently been defeated, but had fought bravely on all occasions, and sometimes successfully defended themselves.

The commander-in-chief had resolved to attack a strong pah, in which one of the principal chiefs, with a large body of followers, held out, and the ships of war were ordered round, that the men of the larger ones might be landed to co-operate with the troops, while the smaller vessels and gun-boats proceeded up the river to bombard the enemy’s fortifications before they were assaulted. The Maoris had already shown themselves to be both brave and intelligent foes, and that, savages though they were called, they were in no way to be despised.

Jack and Adair were dining together on board the Empress. They intended to land next day with about eighty men and several officers, to assist the troops in the attack on the pah. It was situated on a hill some way up the river. The smaller steamers and gun-boats were to convey the troops and tow the men-of-war’s boats with the blue-jackets on board. Besides the pah, strong entrenchments had been thrown up by the Maoris, reaching from the right bank of the river to a lake on the opposite side of the pah, thus completely blocking up the road. In addition to these fortifications, were two lines of rifle-pits, the most dangerous style of defence to attack in the hands of a desperate enemy. Both soldiers and sailors knew that it was no child’s play in which they were to be engaged, and that, savage as was the foe, many a life might be lost before he would be compelled to succumb.

Jack was unusually grave. Adair laughed and joked, as was his custom.

“If I fall to-morrow,” said Jack, “tell Julia how I longed to return home to be with her. There is a letter for her, which I wrote last night, in my desk. I have left you my executor. My worldly affairs are in good order, so that you will not have much trouble. My letter contains chiefly expressions of my devoted affection and a few directions.”

“Of course I will do everything you wish, should such a misfortune happen, but I do not believe that the bullet is cast that is to deprive you of life, Jack,” answered Adair. “You’ll get your flag, as I hope to get mine one of these days; although I know it is possible that a bit of lead may find me out, yet the chances are if it does it won’t hit a vital part. Still, in case such a thing should happen, you will bear my affectionate farewells to Lucy, though she knows that I love her as the ‘apple of my eye.’”

Gerald had come on board to see Tom, and the four relatives spent the evening together. The two young lieutenants were to join in the attack.

At an early hour the next morning the expedition commenced the ascent of the river. It was sufficiently wide and deep to float steamers of considerable size, but as the current was very strong, it greatly impeded their progress. It had been arranged that simultaneous attacks should be made both above the fortifications and below them. The steamers which carried the troops destined to assault the southern end of the pah proceeded up the river.

Jack and Terence with their men, having landed on the north side of the fortifications, were directed to proceed close to the neck of land, and sweeping round, left shoulders foremost, to attack the entrenchments at the part they would then reach.

Their guide conducted them until they reached the foot of a low ridge just beyond gunshot of the enemy. Here they were to remain until a signal was made for them to commence the action.

Jack and Tom climbed up among some low brushwood which lined the top of the ridge, whence they could see into the pah about to be attacked. It was a formidable-looking place, with a deep ditch in front, and strong palisades, which must be pulled down or escaladed before it could be entered. Through his glass Jack observed a line of dark heads with musket barrels shining in the sun. These were only the outer defences; within were other entrenchments and pits, all probably concealing a host of determined enemies, for it had been reported that the pah was held by nearly a thousand men.

The blue-jackets cared very little for the difficulties and dangers before them. They were laughing and joking as usual, eagerly looking forward for the signal to assault the works. In the mean time the troops, having landed, were marching up to their destined positions, the object of the general being so completely to surround the pah that none of the garrison could escape and give further trouble.

Just then an officer arrived, directing Captain Rogers to keep his men in reserve. This was disappointment, as all hoped to be among the first in the fort.

At length the gun-boats, which had got into position, opened fire on the fort. Their shot, however, produced but little effect in the wide open space into which they fell, the enemy having numberless pits and holes in which they could protect themselves. The larger steamers were impeded by the current, and unable to get into position from whence they could discharge their shot at the pah.

At length a rocket flew up from a hill at the north end above the river, as a signal to attack. It was answered by another at the south end, when the troops, rising from behind the cover which had concealed them from the enemy, rushed forward towards the pah, those who had just landed joining them on their right. They were received by a withering fire from the fortifications, which brought many to the ground, but, nothing daunted, they pushed forward to plant their scaling ladders against the palisades. The first line was quickly gained. More soldiers, as they landed, joined the first assailants, when the enemy retreated to the centre of the redoubt, where they seemed determined to defend themselves. The troops on the south side were at the same time fighting their way across the lines of rifle-pits, from which the enemy were firing at them with deadly effect. One pit after another was taken, the occupants of some being bayoneted, while those of others, losing heart, leaped out and endeavoured to make their escape across the lake to the east, the only outlet which now remained for them.

The main body of the enemy held out in their centre fortification, which was of the strongest description. In vain the most desperate attack was made on it by a gallant party of artillery. So high were the palisades that the scaling ladders could not reach the summit. Their commanding officer, in searching for a spot through which an entrance might be made, was brought mortally wounded to the ground. Other officers fell; at length the soldiers had to retire.

“Now, Captain Rogers, will you see what you can do?” said an aide-de-camp, who had been despatched by the general.

“On, lads!” cried Jack. He and Adair led the way, followed at hot speed by their men. Terence had brought a number of hand-grenades, which were carried by a party under Desmond’s command. It was hoped, by throwing them in, the enemy would be driven from the spot, and time allowed for the seamen to climb over the palisades. The naval party were received with as hot a fire as had met the troops. The brave Maoris, disconcerted by the repeated attacks made on them, began to waver.

Jack, in leading on his men, was struck down, and Tom, who took his place, was wounded in the left shoulder, but still continued at the head of his men.

Desmond, in the mean time, was endeavouring to throw in his hand-grenades. Although they burst in the midst of the enemy, and must have wounded several, others springing forward occupied their places, and nearly a score of blue jackets being killed or wounded, Captain Adair was obliged to retire.

Just then Jack, who had been stunned by a bullet which had grazed his head, inflicting a scalp wound, recovered, and, calling on his men to follow, led them up once more to the assault.

Adair, imitating his example, and observing that some of the palisades had been shattered by the hand-grenades, attacked them with a party of his men who carried axes. While the Maoris hurried to defend the spot thus threatened by Adair, Jack and Tom, quickly followed by the Empress’s men, mounting their ladders, climbed over the palisades, and were inside before the enemy perceived them. Although there was yet another fortification in which the Maoris might have held out for a short time longer, finding that they were overpowered, they hoisted a white flag as a sign that they were ready to capitulate.

The troops who had been advancing to the support of the blue-jackets joined their shouts to the hearty cheers of the victors. Not another shot was fired. Several hundred Maoris, many of them being chiefs, laid down their arms. Some of the warriors declared that when they saw an officer whom they thought killed get up and lead on his men as bravely as before, it was time to give in.

The victory, however, had been dearly purchased: upwards of forty men had been killed, including four officers, and nearly a hundred wounded, while the Maoris must have lost a much larger number. Two or three hundred of the enemy, who had been unable to escape, yielded themselves prisoners of war, promising never again to take up arms against the British. They were kindly treated, and at once became on very good terms with the soldiers and blue-jackets. It was curious to see them mingling with the men round their camp fires, talking in broken English, and apparently on the most friendly terms with their late enemies. As they were totally unarmed, and their chiefs remained as hostages well guarded, there was no fear of their attempting any treachery.

A redoubt was now commenced on the captured position. Soldiers and sailors laboured together in its construction, the latter especially in bringing up the guns, ammunition, and stores required by the garrison.

Another important pah, one of the principal strongholds of the enemy, further in the interior, had now to be attacked. The steamers proceeded up the river as far as the depth of water would allow, and the troops landed, with several bodies of blue-jackets from the different ships, under their respective officers.

Jack had his second lieutenant with him, Mr Norman, his brother, Billy Blueblazes, and about sixty men, among whom were Jerry and Tim Nolan. Adair was accompanied by Desmond, his second lieutenant, and about the same number of men. While the main body of the troops were to assault the pah in front, other parties were sent round to attack it in the rear, as also to cut off the retreat of the enemy.

Jack had secured the services of a guide, a friendly native, who professed to know the country, and undertook to conduct him to a position whence he could observe the fort, and either move on to attack it, or, should the Maoris take to flight, capture or shoot them down if they refused to yield. The force destined to attack the enemy in reverse, which had furthest to go, started from the camp late in the evening. The men had had their supper, and were ready for any amount of fatigue they might be called on to endure. Tom marched alongside Jack for the first part of the distance. There was no necessity for keeping silence, as no enemy was near.

“I wish this business was over,” said Tom. “There is little honour or glory to be gained. It is excessively fatiguing and unsatisfactory work.”

“It has to be done, at all events,” observed Jack. “As to honour and glory, these Maoris are no despicable foes, and fight as bravely as any men can do, though not always in the most civilised fashion, it must be allowed. It is to be hoped that they will in time discover the hopelessness of their cause, and sue for peace. It is sad to think how many brave officers and men have already lost their lives, and if the enemy holds out many more, too, probably will be killed. I am sorry, too, for the Maoris themselves, who, from their ignorance of our power, venture so boldly to resist it.”

“It is satisfactory, at all events, to find that when they discover how hopeless is resistance, that they are inclined to become friends, as they have just shown,” observed Tom.

The party were marching along a native path towards the south-east. On the left were hills covered with brushwood; on the right a more level country, partly wooded, with wide open spaces, in which grew in rich profusion the tall New Zealand flax. The shades of evening were gradually closing around. Jack was well aware that should the enemy discover the advance of his party, his position might become critical in the extreme. He therefore kept his men well together, and pushed forward as rapidly as the nature of the ground and the darkness would allow. Having proceeded some distance, he ordered them to maintain perfect silence, and to tread as lightly as possible, so that their footsteps might not be heard at a distance. He sent Tom with four men ahead, directing him to fall back should an enemy appear. Thus the little band marched on, climbing hills, diving into valleys, now crossing open spaces, now making their way through the dense scrub.

At length Jack began to suspect that they had marched much longer than was necessary to gain the desired position. He interrogated the guide, who, in his replies, showed some hesitation, and at length confessed that a considerable period had elapsed since he had come that road.

“I was afraid so,” said Jack. “We must look out for a spot where we can encamp until daylight, when we shall be able to ascertain our true position. If we march further we may get beyond the pah, and be too late for the assault.”

The party were then in a small valley, commanded on the left side by a wooded hill, from whence an enemy might fire down with impunity upon them. The guide asserted there was no risk of this, and advised Jack to advance for a short time longer, assuring him that they should soon reach the position he wished to gain.

He was so confident in his manner that Jack allowed him to continue ahead to lead the way. As they advanced, however, the valley narrowed so that the party might be assaulted on both sides. Still, as no enemy appeared, his belief in the guide’s honesty returned. Again the valley opened out; a hill appeared on the left side, sloping gradually up from the valley. Jack determined to take possession of it, and to remain there until daylight. He accordingly sent Tim Nolan on to Tom, who had charge of the guide, directing him to halt until the main body came up, when he hoped the guide would find a path by which the hill might be ascended. Tim quickly returned, reporting that the guide had disappeared and although two of Tom’s men had instantly set off in pursuit, they had been unable to find him. This looked suspicious, and made Jack more than ever anxious to get into a secure position. A path was found leading up the hill. He determined to pursue it, though steep and narrow, directing the men to be prepared for an attack, as he thought it possible that the hill might be in possession of the Maoris. In perfect silence they proceeded, two men abreast, for the path would allow of no more. At any moment they might hear the crack of the enemy’s rifles, and a shower of bullets might come rattling about their ears. Still they went boldly on.

Up and up they ascended among the tall trees. It was too dark to see more than a few yards ahead; and Jack issued orders that should the enemy appear, his men were to fire a volley and charge, when he had little doubt but that the Maoris would give way. The path made several bends to avoid the steeper portions of the hill. It might easily have been defended by a determined body of natives. As none showed themselves, Jack began to hope that he should gain the position without fighting. Suddenly looking upwards, he discovered that there were no tall trees rising above him, and directly afterwards he found himself in an open space, destitute even of brushwood, on the summit of the hill. A line of palisades, partly broken down on the opposite side, convinced him that the ground was the site of an ancient pah or village; and, as it was of considerable elevation, he hoped at daylight, by obtaining a good view over the country, to ascertain the direction he must then take. It was not, he was certain, the position he had been directed to occupy, and was, he thought, a considerable way beyond it. That, however, without a guide, could only be ascertained in the morning. It was more secure than would have been a spot covered with trees, but at the same time the enemy might steal close up to it without being discovered. He therefore saw the necessity of keeping a vigilant look-out.

A short time before a detachment of military, after a long march, having halted, had become scattered, the officers going to a distance from their men, when the Maoris, who had been on the watch, fell upon them, killed one of the officers, wounded another, and killed or wounded upwards of a dozen men. To avoid a like misfortune, Jack kept his men together in the centre of the space, and placed sentries all round. The rest he allowed to lie down with their arms by their sides. As they had had supper before marching, they were not hungry. Many cried out for water, but unfortunately none had been brought. Although there was no moon the stars were bright, and enabled objects to be seen from the hill-tops at a considerable distance. Jack, though he sat down, did not venture to go to sleep, keeping his eyes and ears open. Occasionally he and Tom made a circuit of the ground, stopping every now and then to listen, but no sounds reached their ears.