The Powder Monkey | Page 7

sound of a whistle, looking
rested and quite content, as he readily answered Jack's question about
sleeping well.
Then followed other questions put by half-awake sailors as to who he
was and how he came there--questions which began to trouble the little
fellow, till Jack Jeens came to his help.
"Who is he?" cried the big bluff sailor. "Why, he's my boy. He was
pressed along with me, and he's going to be a powder monkey."
"Rather a little un, eh?" said one joker. "Why, youngster, you'll do to

get in and sponge out the guns, only you must mind and not get stuck in
the touch-holes."
But Phil's appearance was enough to make all the men his friends, and
almost made Jack their enemy, for a strange kind of jealousy sprang up
as the crew made efforts to entice the little fellow away from his
companion. But the ill feeling soon died out, for though Phil had a
smile and a bright look for everyone, Jack Jeens was his great attraction,
and he was never happier than when he was at the big, rough fellow's
side.
The novelty of such a little fellow becoming one of the crew soon died
out, and in a few days he was so much at home, that the men treated
him as one of themselves, while the officers soon took his presence as a
matter of course, and had a nod or a smile for the active little fellow
who had become the pet of the ship.
"Why, you've quite put the tabby Tom cat's nose out of joint," said Jack
one day, with a grin. "Has he scratted you yet?"
"No, of course not," cried Phil. "He follows me wherever I go."
"Humph!" grunted Jack. "Everybody and everything seems to like you,
old chap."
Phil said nothing, but he thought a good deal, knowing only too well as
he did that his friend Jack was not right. For there were several other
boys on board who, seeing the favour in which the little new-comer
stood, were not long in trying to make his young life a burden. All far
bigger and stronger, they soon began to persecute him when they found
a chance, one of their favourite plans being to, as they called it, "chivvy
him" and hunt him about the vessel.
Soon after dawn one morning Phil had crept on deck to stand looking
over the bulwark through the soft grey light at the scattered vessels
sailing slowly along, when all at once a faint whish caught his ear, and
turning sharply he saw one of his persecutors creeping cautiously
towards him, followed by half-a-dozen more, while a couple had

crossed the deck and were ready to cut him off if he attempted to retreat
in that direction.
Phil glanced towards the forecastle hatch, but there was a boy rising
from the square opening, and he turned to look aft, but only to see that
other lads were waiting there. For the enemy had taken steps to cut him
off in every direction, and the little fellow looked wildly round for a
way of escape, and then made a rush to pass through his tormentors,
who cut him off at once and with a cry of delight dashed in.
It was all very quickly done; first one and then another of the lads
nearly had him, but active as a monkey that has no dealings with
powder, Phil dodged, feinted, and dodged again, brushing by the
foremost of his pursuers, making for the starboard bulwark, and
reaching the foremast shrouds before the first boy could recover
himself.
The last was after him, though, directly, but too late; for with a bound
Phil had sprung up, caught at the nearest rope, swung himself on to the
rail, and then begun swarming up the rigging, a mere morsel of a fellow,
as he dragged himself up from ratline to ratline, mounting higher and
higher towards the foretop.
Sure of him now, the boys uttered a low cry of delight, and while two
made for the starboard shrouds to follow him, a couple more made for
the larboard, or port, as they call them now, while the rest gathered
below.
"Take a turn round him with the halyards!" whispered one boy, from
the deck, "and then send him down to us."
Phil heard, and climbed on breathlessly, looking up the while at the top
and thinking that if his enemies followed him there he could climb
higher.
The fore top was reached, but this proved no sanctuary, and Phil had to
climb higher still, for one boy in particular, the most active and daring
of the party, followed fast and with such good effect, that to Phil's

horror just before he reached the top gallant cross-trees, his