Sketches From My Life | Page 6

I saw why he wanted me to fire,
so that he might know whether my gun was loaded; but the old caps
evidently deceived him.)
All this was the work of a very few seconds. Now what was my chief
doing? Seeing a row going on, he was dismounting; in fact, was
half-way off his horse, only one foot in the stirrup, when the man made
the rush at him. Finding me stuck to my saddle (for the ruffian's knife
had gone through my coat and pinned me), and the fellow snapping my
gun, which was pointed at him, he as coolly as possible put his gun
over his horse's shoulder and shot the would-be murderer dead on the

spot. Then turning to me he said quite calmly, 'I call you to witness that
that man intended to murder me.' How differently all would have ended
had my gun been loaded! The villain would have shot my chief, taken
both guns, and galloped off, leaving me ignominiously stuck to my
saddle.
The audacity of this one man attacking us two armed sportsmen
showed the immense confidence these prairie people feel in themselves,
especially in their superior horsemanship. However, the fellow caught a
Tartar on this occasion.
As for me, the knife had gone, as I said, through my loose shooting
jacket just below the waist, through the upper part of my trousers, and
so into the saddle, without even touching my skin. I have kept the knife
in memory of my lucky escape.
While laying at Monte Video there was on each side of us a French
man-of-war, the officers of which were very amiably inclined, and
many were the dinners and parties exchanged between us.
In those days the interchange of our respective languages was very
limited on both sides, so much so, that our frantic efforts to understand
each other were a constant source of amusement. A French midshipman
and myself, however, considered ourselves equal to the occasion, and
professed linguists; so on the principle that in the 'land of the blind the
one-eyed man is king,' we were the swells of the festivities.
I remember on one occasion, when the birthday of Louis Philippe was
to be celebrated, my French midshipman friend came on board
officially and said, 'Sir, the first of the month is the feast of the King;
you must fire the gun.' 'All right,' said we. Accordingly, we loaded our
guns in the morning, preparatory to saluting at noon. It was raining
heavily all the forenoon, so we had not removed what is called the
tompions (to my unprofessional reader I may say that the tompion is a
very large piece of wood made to fit into the muzzle, for the purpose of
preventing wet from penetrating). To this tompion is, or used to be,
attached a large piece of wadding, what for I never rightly understood.

Now it seems that those whose duty it was to attend to it had neglected
to take these things out of the guns.
On the first gun being fired from the French ship we began our salute.
The French ships were close alongside of us, one on either side. The
gunner who fires stands with the hand-glass to mark the time between
each discharge. On this occasion he began his orders thus: 'Fire, port;'
then suddenly recollecting that the tompions were not removed he
added, 'Tompions are in, sir.' No one moved. The gunner could not
leave his work of marking time. Again he gave the order, 'Fire,
starboard,' repeating, 'Tompions are in, sir,' and so on till half the
broadside had been fired before the tompions had been taken out. It is
difficult to describe the consternation on board the French vessels,
whose decks were crowded with strangers (French merchants, &c.),
invited from the shore to do honour to their King's fête. These horrid
tompions and their adjuncts went flying on to their decks, from which
every one scampered in confusion. It was lucky our guns did not burst.
This was a most awkward dilemma for all of us. I was sent on board to
apologise. The French captain, with the courtesy of his nation, took the
mishap most good-humouredly, begging me to return the tompions to
my captain, as they had no occasion for them. So no bad feeling was
created, though shortly after this contretemps an affair of so serious a
nature took place, that a certain coldness crept in between ourselves
and our ci-devant friends.
It seems that there had been of late several desertions from the French
vessels lying at Monte Video, great inducements of very high wages
being offered by the revolutionary party in Buenos Ayres for men to
serve them. The French commander therefore determined to search all
vessels leaving Monte Video