第 10 页

commencement began with four distinct beats of the big drum. Just

before it began, Captain Manley saw Tom and Peter, who with some of

the other boys had brought the music-stands into the ground, with

their faces bright with anticipated fun.

"What is the joke, boys?" he asked good-humoredly, as he passed them.

"I can't tell you, sir," Tom said; "but if you walk up close to the

band, and watch Sam's face when he begins, you will be amused, I

think."

"Those are regular young pickles," Captain Manley said to the lady

he was walking with; "they are Etonians who have run away from home,

and are up to all kinds of mischief, but are the pluckiest and most

straightforward youngsters imaginable. I have no doubt that they are

up to some trick with our black drummer."

On their way to where the band was preparing to play, Captain Manley

said a word or two to several of the other officers, consequently

there was quite a little party standing watching the band when their

leader lifted his baton for the overture to begin.

There was nothing that Sam liked better than for the big drum to

commence, and with his head thrown well back and an air of extreme

importance, he lifted his arm and brought it down with what should

have been a sounding blow upon the drum. To his astonishment and to

the surprise of all the band, no deep boom was heard, only a low

muffled sound. Mechanically Sam raised his other arm and let it fall

with a similar result. Sam looked a picture of utter astonishment and

dismay, with his eyes opened to their fullest, and he gave vent to a

loud cry, which completed the effect produced by his face, and set

most of those looking on, and even the band themselves, into a roar of

laughter. Sam now examined his sticks, they appeared all right to the

eye, but directly he felt them his astonishment was turned into rage.

They were perfectly soft. Taking out his knife he cut them open, and

found that the balls were merely filled with a wad of soft cotton, the

necessary weight being given by pieces of lead fastened round the end

of the stick inside the ball with waxed thread.

Sam was too enraged to say more than his usual exclamation of

astonishment, "Golly!" and he held out his drumsticks to be examined

with the face of a black statue of surprise.

Even the band-master was obliged to laugh as he took the sticks from

Sam's hand to examine them.

"These are not your sticks at all, Sam," he said, looking closely at

them. "Here, boy," he called to Tom, who might have been detected from

the fact of his being the only person present with a serious face,

"run to the band-room and see if you can find the sticks."

In a few minutes Tom returned with the real drumsticks, which, he

said truly, he had found on the shelf where they were usually kept.

After that things went on as usual; Sam played with a sulky fury. His

dignity was injured, and he declared over and over again that if he

could "find de rascal who did it, by jingo, I pound him to squash!"

and there was no doubt from his look that he thoroughly meant what he

said. However, no inquiries could bring to light the author of the

trick.

CHAPTER V.

OVERBOARD.

There were no lighter hearts than those of Tom and Peter Scudamore

on board the transport "Nancy," as, among the hearty cheers of the

troops on board, and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs from friends

who had come out in small boats to say good-bye for the last time,

she weighed anchor, and set sail in company with some ten or twelve

other transports, and under convoy of two ships of war. It would be

difficult to imagine a prettier scene. The guns fired, the bands of

the various regiments played, and the white sails opened out bright

in the sun as the sailors swarmed into the rigging, anxious to outvie

each other. Even the soldiers pulled and hauled at the ropes, and ran

round with the capstan bars to get the anchors apeak. Tom and Peter,

of course, had, like the other boys, got very much in the way in their

desire to assist, and, having been once or twice knocked over by the

rush of men coming along with ropes, they wisely gave it up, and

leaned over the side to enjoy the scene.

"This is splendid, Tom, isn't it?"

"Glorious, Peter; but it's blowing pretty strong. I am afraid that we

sha'n't find it quite so glorious when we get out of the shelter of

the island."

Peter laughed. "No; I suppose we sha'n't all look as jolly as we do

now by night-time. However, the wind is nor'-westerly, which will help

us along nicely, if, as I heard one of the sailors say just now, it

does not go round to the south."

"Bugler, sound companies one, two, and three to breakfast."

The order interrupted the conversation, and, for the next hour,

the boys had little time for talk. Half the regiment was on board

the "Nancy," and, after breakfast, the men were divided into three

watches, of which one was always to be on deck, for the ship was very

crowded, and there was scarcely room for all the men to be below

together. The boys were in the same watch, for the day previous to

starting Tom had been appointed bugler to the 2d Company, Peter to the

3d. The 1st Company, or Grenadiers, were in the watch with the band,

the 2d and 3d Companies were together, and the 4th and 5th.

Tom was very ill for the first two days of the voyage, while Peter did

not feel the slightest effects from the motion. Upon the third day the

wind dropped suddenly, and the vessels rolled heavily in the swell,

with their sails flapping against the masts. Tom came up that morning

upon deck feeling quite well again, and the boys were immensely amused

at seeing the attempts of the soldiers to move about, the sudden

rushes, and the heavy falls. A parade had been ordered to take place;

but as no one could have stood steady without holding on, it was

abandoned as impossible. The men sat about under the bulwarks, and a

few amused themselves and the rest by trying to play various games,

such as laying a penny on the deck, and seeing which would pitch

another to lay nearest to it, from a distance of five yards. The

difficulty of balancing oneself in a heavily rolling vessel, and of

pitching a penny with any degree of accuracy, is great, and the manner

in which the coins, instead of coming down flat and remaining there,

rolled away into the scuppers, the throwers not unfrequently following

them, produced fits of laughter.

Tom was still feeling weak from his two days' illness, and was not

disposed actively to enter into the fun; but Peter enjoyed the heavy

rolling, and was all over the ship. Presently he saw Sam, the black

drummer, sitting in a dark corner below quietly asleep; his cap was

beside him, and the idea at once occurred to Peter that here was a

great opportunity for a joke. He made his way to the caboose, and

begged the cook to give him a handful of flour. The cook at first

refused, but was presently coaxed into doing so, and Peter stole to

where Sam was asleep, and put the flour into his cap, relying that, in

the darkness, Sam would put it on without noticing it. Then, going up

to the deck above, Peter put his head down the hatchway, and shouted

loudly, "Sam!"

The negro woke at the sound of his name. "What is it?" he asked.

Receiving no reply, he got on to his feet, muttering, "Some one call

Sam, that for certain, can't do without Sam, always want here, want

there. I go up and see."

So saying, he put on his cap, and made his way up to the upper deck.

As he stood at the hatchway and looked round, there was, first a

titter, and then a roar of laughter from the men sitting or standing

along by the bulwarks. In putting on his cap some of the flour had

fallen out, and had streaked his face with white. Sam was utterly

unconscious that he was the object of the laughter, and said to one of

the men nearest to him, "Who call Sam?"

The man could not reply, but Tom, who was sitting close by, said, "It

was no one here, Sam, it must have been the bandmaster; there he is,

close to the quarter-deck."

Sam made his way along towards the point indicated, and as he did so

some of the officers upon the quarter-deck caught sight of him. "Just

look at Sambo," Carruthers exclaimed, "somebody has been larking with

him again. Look how all the men are laughing, and he evidently has no

suspicion of the figure he is."

The sergeant, who, the bandmaster having remained at the depot, was

now acting as chief of the band, did not see Sam until the latter was

close to him. "You want me, sergeant?"

Sergeant Wilson looked up, and was astonished.

"What on earth have you been doing to yourself, Sam?" he asked.

"Me been having little nap down below," Sam said.

"Yes; but your face, man. What have you been doing to your face?"

Sam, in his turn, looked astonished. "Nothing whatsomeber, sargeant."

"Take off your cap, man, and look inside it." Sam did as ordered; and

as he removed the cap, and the powder fell from it all over his face

and shoulders, there was a perfect shout of laughter from the soldiers

and crew, who had been looking on, and the officers, looking down from

the rail of the quarter-deck, retired to laugh unnoticed.

The astonishment and rage of Sam were unbounded, and he gave a perfect

yell of surprise and fury. He stamped wildly for a minute or two, and

then, with a sudden movement rushed up on to the quarter-deck with

his cap in his hand. The colonel, who was holding on by the shrouds,

and talking with the major, in ignorance of what was going on, was

perfectly astounded at this sudden vision of the irate negro, and

neither he nor the major could restrain their laughter.

"Scuse me, colonel, sah, for de liberty," Sam burst out; "but look at

me, sah; is dis right, sah, is it right to make joke like dis on de

man dat play de big drum of de regiment?"

"No, no, Sam; not at all right," the colonel said, with difficulty.

"If you report who has played the trick upon you, I shall speak to him

very seriously; but, Sam, I should have thought that you were quite

big enough to take the matter in your own hands."

"Me big enough, Massah Colonel, me plenty big; but me not able to find

him."

"Well, Sam, it is carrying a joke too far; still, it is only a trick

off duty, and I am afraid that it is beyond my power to interfere."

Sam thought for a moment, and, having by this time cooled down from

his first paroxysm of rage, he said, "Beg pardon, massa, you quite

right, no business of any one but Sam; but Sam too angry to 'top to

think. Scuse liberty, colonel," and Sam retired from the quarter-deck,

and made a bolt below down the nearest hatchway, when he plunged his

head into a bucket of water, and soon restored it to its usual ebony

hue.

Then he went to the cook and tried to find out to whom he had given

flour, but the cook replied at once, "Lor, I've given flour to the men

of each mess to make puddings of, about thirty of them," and Sam felt

as far off as ever.

Presently, however, a big sailor began to make fun of him, and Sam

retorted by knocking him down, after which there was a regular fight,

which was carried on under the greatest difficulty, owing to the

rolling of the ship. At last Sambo got the best of it, and this

restored him so thoroughly to a good temper that he was able to join

in the laugh at himself, reserving, however, his right to "knock de

rascal who did it into a squash."

The following day the weather changed, a wind sprang up nearly from

the north, which increased rapidly, until toward afternoon it was

blowing half a gale, before which the whole fleet, with their main

and topsails set, ran southward at great speed. A heavy cross sea was

running, the wares raised by the gale clashing with the heavy swell

previously rolling in from the westward, and so violent and sudden

were the lurches and rolls of the "Nancy" that the master feared that

her masts would go.

"How tremendously she rolls, Tom."

"Tremendously; the deck seems almost upright, and the water right

under our feet each time she goes over. She feels as if she were going

to turn topsy-turvy each roll. It's bad enough on deck; but it will be

worse down below."

"A great deal worse, Peter, it's nearly dark already; it will strike

eight bells in a minute or two, and then we shall have to go down.

There's no danger, of course, of the ship turning over, but it won't

be pleasant down below. Look out, Peter!"

The exclamation was caused by an awful crash. The ship had given a

tremendous lurch, when the long-boat, which was stowed amidships,

suddenly tore away from its fastenings and came crashing down.

It passed within three feet of where the boys were sitting, and

completely tore away the bulwark, leaving a great gap in the side,

where it had passed through. "Look, Tom, Sam's overboard!" Peter

exclaimed.

Sam had been sitting on the bulwark, a few feet from them, holding on

by a shroud, when the boat came down upon him; with a cry he had let

go of the shroud and started back, falling into the water just as the

boat struck the bulwark. "There he is, Tom," Peter said, as he saw the

black only a few yards from the side. "He is hurt, come on," catching

up the end of a long rope coiled up on the deck close to their feet,

the boys jumped overboard together. A dozen strokes took them up to

Sam; but the black hull of the ship had already glanced past them.

They could hear loud shouts, but could not distinguish a word.

"Quick, round him, Peter!" and, in a moment, the boys twisted the rope

round the body of the black, and knotted it just as the drag of the

ship tightened it. Thus Sam's safety was secured, but the strain was