The Powder Monkey | Page 8

pursuer was
so close behind that he made a dash at his quarry's ankle, and grasped it;
and in his horror Phil made a spring which took him out of his enemy's
reach and proved disastrous.
For the boy had thrown so much energy into his action that as Phil's
ankle glided through his hand, he failed to clutch the ratline beneath,
swung round, and unable to get a fresh hold, began to fall from rope to
yard, to rope again, and then came heavily on the fore yard, which
partially broke his fall, but after a moment or two he came down
heavily upon the deck, making his companions there scatter and then
make for the forecastle hatch, while those aloft scuttled down as hard as
they could.
As for Phil, white with horror, and feeling strongly that he was the
cause of the accident, he clung to the shrouds, looking wildly down for
a few moments, before seizing the halyards and sliding gradually down
to reach the fallen boy lying alone, and began to feel him all over in
silence, before his hand came in contact with the insensible lad's leg in
such a way that the little fellow uttered a shriek of horror which
brought the men of the watch to his side.
Phil turned sick as he stood there listening to what was said; but he
fought it back and walked with them as they raised the insensible boy
from the deck and bore him to the cockpit, where the surgeon was soon
busy setting and bandaging, and talking sourly the while in his
ill-humour at being roused from his morning's sleep.
His words consisted of scoldings and questionings.
"You young dog," he said to Phil, who was the only boy allowed to be
present. "Skylarking in the rigging before breakfast! What could you
expect? Well, my young shrimp, you have the satisfaction of knowing
that you've broken your companion's leg, and you'll have to be his
nurse. Do you hear?"
"Yes, sir," said Phil; "but he won't die, will he?"

"Not if I know it, boy. Ah, he's coming-to now."
For the injured lad opened his eyes, to stare about him, trying to
understand what it all meant, and grinning as he saw Phil.
"I say," he whispered, "I caught you!"
"That you didn't!" said Phil, indignantly.
"Well, nearly. But what's the matter with my leg?"
"Broke," said Phil, in a whisper.
"That all?" said the boy, coolly. "Well, then, I sha'n't be able to walk."
"No," said Phil, in a hurried whisper. "You're to be in hospital, and he
says I'm to be your nurse."
"Who? The doctor?"
"Yes, sir," said that individual, sharply. "Your right leg's broken just
below the knee, and you may think yourself very lucky it wasn't your
neck."
Phil turned upon him an indignant look which made the doctor stare.
"Be a warning to you both not to play such monkey tricks again," he
added, sourly. "There, little one, stop with him, and I'll tell one of the
men to bring you some breakfast here."
CHAPTER SIX.
That mishap and the boy's illness worked a complete change. His
companions were not allowed to come to what was called the sick bay,
but somehow they soon came to know that Phil had been appointed
nurse, and that he was constant in his attendance, and doing everything
he could to help the sufferer. Possibly they heard a good deal from Jack
Jeens, who did manage to steal a few minutes with Phil once a day. So
did the ship's boys whenever Phil showed himself on deck. He tried to

avoid them at first, but they cut him off, and to his surprise instead of
plying him with blows they wanted to shake hands, while ever after
they were the best of friends.
"Why is it?" Phil asked Jack Jeens, who laughed, and said he supposed
it was because he tended the injured lad so well.
But Phil found that there was other work for him besides nursing a boy
with a broken leg, for at certain times he was called up on deck when
the men were working the guns, and he had to learn what was required
from him in connection with the great gun to which Jack Jeens
belonged, and in his quick way Phil soon did what was required, and
that was, to run down to the magazine and fetch a flannel bag that
seemed to be full of sand up on deck ready for the crew of the gun to
push into the mouth of the gun, where it was rammed down with a long
rod, before a big shot was taken out of the rack close by, and rammed
down the gun in turn, which was then fired.