In Greek Waters: A Story of the Grecian War of Independence

For two hours the firing continued; but towards the end of that time it slackened considerably.

“I expect a good many of them are running short of ammunition,” Martyn said. “Now they have done firing they will have time to talk a bit, and may arrange to march off somewhere, and come down between us and the shore; so I think it is time for us to be making a move. I will go along and tell every third man to fall back at once. I think, Mr. Beveridge, it would be as well that you should go with them. I shall send Tarleton in command, and tell him to pick out a spot, from a hundred to three hundred yards from the shore, and place the men in position there. Five minutes later you shall pick out every second man, Horace, and go down and join them. We will keep up a more rapid fire now, so that they sha’n’t have any idea we are falling back. Of course, when you join Tarleton, you will take up your position with him. I shall be down five minutes after you. When we are all there we can form a semicircle, with the ends resting on the sea, and there will be an end of this constant fear of being outflanked.”

Five minutes later Tarleton, with a third of the men, went off at the double down the path. Those left behind renewed their fire, taking aim among the rocks and bushes, and this at once provoked a fresh outburst of firing on the part of the Turks. In a short time Martyn told Horace to get his men together and be off, and in twenty minutes he joined Tarleton, who had taken up his post at a little more than a hundred yards from the shore. The men were slashing down bushes with their cutlasses, and piling them and stones so as to make a low breastwork. The party Horace had brought at once joined in the work.

“It is a screen we want more than a defence,” Tarleton said. “You see we are commanded everywhere from the hill, but these bushes will hide us, and they will only be able to fire into them at random; besides, we want them cut down in front of us to be able to use our guns.”

They were soon joined by the rear-guard.

“The Turks must be some distance behind,” Martyn said. “We could hear them blazing away when we were nearly half a mile on the road. That is a good work, Mr. Tarleton; we shall get it finished by the time they come.”

So strong a party made quick work of it, and in another quarter of an hour the screen of bushes was completed down to the shore on either side, the sweep being some three hundred yards in length, and the breastwork in most places three feet high.

“It won’t keep out bullets,” Martyn said; “but from the distance they won’t see how thin it is. At any rate it is a good screen.”

The whole of the Greeks and twenty of the sailors were placed at intervals of about six feet apart behind the screen, and each man was told to dig up the soil with a knife or cutlass in front of him, and with that and a few rocks to make a protection for himself against stray bullets. The other twenty sailors Martyn retained under his own command to carry to the assistance of the defenders at any point against which a serious attack might be made. Mr. Beveridge had gone down at once to the women and children who were sitting under shelter of the bank by the sea-shore, and cheered them by assurances that the schooner would be sure to return some time during the night. It was not until a quarter of an hour after the screen had been completed that parties of Turks could be seen descending the side of the hill. They did not seem to be hurrying.

“They think they have got us in a trap, Horace,” Tarleton said, “and that they have only to wait a bit to starve us out. Perhaps it is just as well the schooner made off, for it would have been hot work all getting on board under their fire, whereas now we shall be able to slip off in the dark almost without their knowing it.”

When the Turks approached to within a distance of three or four hundred yards of the breastwork, the party with the rifles opened fire upon them, and they at once fell back some little distance. For half an hour nothing was done, and then a party of fifty or sixty men were seen reascending the hill.

“They are going to make a siege of it,” Martyn said. “They don’t like the look of this breastwork.”

“But what are they sending the men away for, Martyn?” Horace asked.

“Because it is just as necessary for them to eat and drink, Horace, as it is for us. We have got our water-bottles and biscuits, and the Greeks have all brought something with them; they were warned to do so before they started. But those gentlemen all came off in a hurry. I don’t expect any of them had breakfast, and in the excitement not one in twenty is likely to have caught up as much as a gourd of water, so I have no doubt those men you see going up the hill are on their way to their villages for a supply of food and water, and perhaps to get some more ammunition if they can find any. I will warrant half those fellows in front of us have fired away their last shot. You will see they won’t disturb us any more to-day.”

A few shots only were fired from either side during the course of the day, this apparently being done on the part of the Turks from pure bravado, as they generally showed themselves conspicuously, brandished their long guns over their heads, and shouted defiantly before firing. One of them, however, having been shot by a sailor armed with a rifle, the amusement ceased, and during the afternoon all was quiet. An anxious look-out was kept seaward all day. At five in the afternoon one of the sailors sang out, “Sail, ho!”

“Where away, Baldock?”

“About west-north-west I should say, sir, though I ain’t sure of my bearings here.”

Martyn went up to where the man was standing on a rock that projected eight or ten feet above the surrounding ground, a position which would have been dangerous had not the Turks been almost out of range.

“There, sir, do you see just under that streak of white cloud? it is a little black patch.”

“I see it, Baldock.”

“I believe it is the schooner’s gaff top-sail, sir; it is too narrow for a square sail.”

“I think you are right, Baldock. It might be the peak of one of the native lateen sails, but I think it is too far away for that. It is about the direction we might expect the schooner to come from. She was more to the north-west when we saw her last, but to get round the Turks she would have to bear either one way or the other, and if she ran to the south that is just about where she would be on her way back. Hullo! that was a near shave; we had better get off this, Baldock.”

“Are you hit, sir?”

“Yes, but I don’t think it is of any consequence; it is in the arm, but as I can move it all right, it is only through the flesh.”

Half a dozen guns had flashed out in reply to the shot, which had been fired from a distance of less than a hundred yards, the man having crept through the bushes unseen. Martyn’s coat was taken off and his arm bandaged at once.

“It is rather foolish to expose yourself like that, Captain Martyn,” Mr. Beveridge said as he came up. “Your life is too valuable to us all to be risked in that way.”

“It was rather foolish,” Martyn laughed; “but I thought the fellows were out of range, and did not give them credit for enterprise. Anyhow there is no great harm done. I think we have made out the schooner, sir, and it is worth getting a ball through one’s arm to know that she is on her way back.”

“Do you feel sure it is her?”

“Well, I can say that it is not a square top-sail; that is certain, and it must either be her gaff top-sail or the peak of a lateen sail of one of these native craft; but I think it is the schooner. If it is, we sha’n’t be long before we can make out her fore-top gallant-sail. No native craft carries a lateen and anything like a square sail.”

“If it is the schooner, how far is she off, do you think?”

“Five-and-twenty miles, I should say. There is not much breeze, but that is all the better, for she will be slipping along now at least two knots to the Turks’ one, while in a strong breeze she would not go more than five to their four. It is five o’clock now, and though we can’t feel any wind here, I expect she is making five or six knots an hour. Anyhow she ought to be here between ten and twelve.”

A quarter of an hour later Baldock said: “May I take another squint from the look-out, sir?”

“Yes, but don’t stand there long, Baldock. I expect that fellow has moved off again if he was not hit by any of our shots. Still it is as well not to give him another chance.”

Baldock stood on the rock shading his eyes from the light of the western sun, which was now getting near the horizon. For a minute or two he stood uncertain, and then said:

“It is the schooner, sir, sure enough. I can just make out a black line below the sail; that must be her fore-top gallant-sail just showing.”

A cheer broke from the sailors lying along the shelter of the screen of bushes.

“That is good news, Baldock,” Martyn said. “Come down now; another half-hour will settle it anyhow, and there will be light enough till then.”

The next observation settled the question. It was certainly a square sail underneath the sharp peak of a gaff top-sail. The joy of the Greeks was extreme when they heard that the vessel that was to carry them away was in sight.

“The schooner will be in a nice mess,” Martyn grumbled to Tarleton. “With what there are on board now, and all these, there will be something like six hundred of them; a nice cargo that.”

“There is one thing,” Horace laughed, “I expect she has carried as many before.”

“Yes, I daresay she has taken six hundred slaves, but we can’t pack these Greeks as they pack slaves. There will be no moving on board, and as to fighting the guns if we fall in with a Turk, it will be well-nigh impossible. Why, she will be as deep in the water as she was when we sailed out of Plymouth. What is the weight of them all, Horace, do you suppose?”

“Not very great, Captain Martyn. I don’t suppose there are a dozen of the men weigh over ten stone. I suppose the women average seven, and the children, counting babies, say four. As there are as many children as there are men, that would make the average seven stone all round, but even if you said eight stone, which is a hundredweight, and they are certainly not that, or anything near it, that would make thirty tons, and it won’t be over that if you throw in all the bundles. You calculated that you got fifty tons out of her hold.”

“Oh, well, that is not so bad. If it comes on to blow we will make shifting ballast of them, and pack them all up to windward on both decks; that ought to make her as stiff as a church. It will be a big job getting them all on board tonight. There is one thing, I don’t suppose the Turks have made her out. Of course they don’t know that we are expecting a vessel, or anything about her rig. We must make a fire down on the shore as soon as it gets dark, and keep a sharp look-out for her, putting the fire out as soon as she is near enough for the light to begin to show on her sails. Then we will open fire all along the line as if we thought we heard them creeping up towards us, and that will cover the rattling of the anchor chain. I will hail Miller to muffle the oars, and in that way we may manage to get most of them on board at any rate before the Turks have an idea of what is going on. By firing an occasional shot we shall keep their attention fixed, and gradually withdraw from the line as we did from that place we held up there.”

CHAPTER X

A DARING EXPLOIT

SOON after nine o’clock Will Martyn took his post on the shore at the northern end of the position. A dropping fire was kept up all round the semicircle, as if the defenders feared that the assailants might be trying to crawl up towards them. Martyn continued to listen intently for half an hour, then he thought he heard a sound on the water. In another minute or two he could make out the sound of voices.

“Miller has got his head screwed on the right way,” he said to himself. “He is showing no lights.” Another five minutes and he could dimly make out the outline of the schooner.

“Misericordia ahoy!” he shouted.

“Ay, ay,” came across the water.

“I am going to put out the fire so that the light won’t show on your sails, and in a minute or two I am going to open fire heavily to cover the rattle of the chains. Directly you hear us begin let go the anchor; don’t answer.”

Horace was standing by the fire, and he at once scattered the brands and threw sand over them. Martyn ran up to the front of the position and shouted, “Open fire!” and the rattle of musketry broke out all round the screen. The Turks, surprised at the sudden din, and fearing that a sortie was going to be made, replied briskly, and for four or five minutes the fire was maintained. Horace down on the shore heard the rattle of the anchor chain and the creaking of the blocks, followed shortly by the sound of the tackle as the boats were lowered.

“Please muffle the oars, Mr. Miller!” he shouted, and the answering hail came across the water. Twelve of the sailors came down from their posts to assist with the boats, and in three or four minutes there was a slight splash of oars, and the four boats of the schooner ran gently ashore.

“All well, I hope?” Tom Burdett asked as he jumped out.

“All well, Tom, with the exception of about half a dozen slightly wounded.”

“Thank God!” the boatswain said. “I tell you we felt mighty sore at having to run away and leave you just at daybreak this morning, and you can’t tell how glad we were when we caught sight of the fire first and then made out the popping of the guns. Have you got the Greeks out, Mr. Horace?”

“Yes, there are over five hundred of them here.”

“My eye!” the sailor said, “that is something like a cargo.”

“I have got twelve men here, Tom. That will give you four and a helmsman to each boat with what you have got. Has Marco come ashore with you?”

“Yes, Mr. Horace. I thought I might be useful if you had got the Christians with you.”

“Yes, that is what I wanted you for, Marco. Now, then,” he said to the women who were clustered behind him, “take your places in the boats. Help them in, lads; there are lots of children among them. You need not be afraid of packing them closely so long as you leave yourselves room to row, for there is not a ripple on the water. Father, would you mind going off with the first lot?” he said as Mr. Beveridge came up. “Marco has come ashore to help here, and Mr. Miller does not talk their language. If you take Zaimes with you he can help settle them down as they come on board. Mind, lads, you are to make as little noise as you can. There are six hundred of those Turks lying round us, and if they got a notion of what was going on they would be coming on us like a pack of wolves, and in the dark they would be among us before we knew that they were coming, and your first boatload would be your last. Impress upon the Greeks, father, when they get on board, that not a word must be spoken.”

“Mr. Miller will see to that, sir, no doubt,” the boatswain said. “He has got the whole lot of them down between decks, and he and Bill Scoons have got the deck to themselves.”

The women and children were crowded into the boats, which were first backed stern on shore to allow them to enter. The sailors lifted the children, and wading into the water put them in. The smaller boats pushed off as soon as they were filled, and they were back again just after the two larger ones started. The schooner was but a hundred yards away, and so quickly did the work go on that in little more than a quarter of an hour the last batch of women and children left the shore. Horace directed Marco to see that the wounded were carefully lifted into the next boat, and to go on board with them; he then ran up to Martyn. The continuous fire had ceased now, but dropping shots were kept up all round the position.

“The last batch has gone on board, Captain Martyn,” he reported.

“Thank God for that, Horace! That is a load off one’s mind. It is a smart piece of work to have got them on board so soon. I did not expect you for some time yet. I have been listening sharply. Of course I heard sounds, but even here they were faint, while the Turks, being twice as far away, can hardly have heard them, and if they did would not have made them out, knowing nothing of what is going on. Now do you and Tarleton go off, one each way, and send every third man down to the boats; but if the third man is a sailor send the next Greek to him. When you get down to the shore go along to the boats and see the men off. As soon as they are in the boats start back again, sending the rest of the Greeks down to the shore. Then when you join me here I shall know that there are only our own men to draw off. Tell them all to keep up a pretty sharp fire when the Greeks have left.”

In a very few minutes they were beside him again. “The boats took the first batch off in one trip, sir,” Tarleton reported, “and they will be back again by the time the last fellows we have sent down get to the shore.”

“We will give them five minutes and then be off.”

“Mr. Miller sent word by the boatswain, sir, that he had got the guns loaded with grape, and blue lights ready, so that if they should at the last moment press you he will sweep the hillside as soon as you bring the men down to the shore.”

“I hope we shall not want it,” Martyn said; “but it is well to be on the safe side. I am sure we don’t want to kill any more of these poor beggars than we can help. Of course they wanted to massacre the Christians, but as they know their own people have been massacred in tens of thousands by the Greeks, it is only human nature they should take revenge. Anyhow I am glad there has not been much bloodshed. The only time we got fairly at them was when they first gathered for a charge at that olive grove, and again when they came down the path to that place where we stopped them. Of course a few fell while we were falling back, but I should say that from forty to fifty would be quite the outside; and likely enough it may not have been half that. It has been a much easier business than I expected. I must say, when we first got into the village and I saw what a crowd of women and children there were there I thought we were going to have a very tough job before we got on board the schooner again. Now I think we can fall back. Go down to the shore again, please, and start the men from that end, so that we can keep on firing from here up to the last moment.”

In a very few minutes the last of the defenders stepped into the boats and rowed off to the ship.

“All safe, Captain Martyn?” Miller’s voice asked as the boats came alongside.

“All safe, Mr. Miller.”

“Then we will give a hearty cheer, sir. They will know in a few minutes that you have gone, and it will make no difference. Now, lads, all together.”

And three hearty cheers broke from the English sailors, swelled by shouts and yells from the Greeks clustered on deck. As they stepped on to the deck Miller shook hands heartily with Martyn, Tarleton, and Horace.

“Thank Heaven you are all back safe again!” he said, “and, as I hear, without the loss of a single life. We have had an anxious time of it, as you may guess, since you have been away. I suppose we may as well get the boats up, sir?”

“Certainly. We sha’n’t want to go ashore again, Miller.” The boatswain’s whistle rang out, the falls were hooked on, and the boats run up to the davits.

“Don’t swing them in at present,” Martyn said. “We want all our room on deck. What have you done about the Greeks, Miller?”

“The cook had a big copper of soup ready, and they each had a basin as they came on board. We have given up the whole of the lower deck to the women and children. Our fellows and the men sleep on deck.”

“I thought that was how you would manage, Miller; indeed I don’t see any other way that it could be done.”

“I have got all the scuttles open down below,” Miller said, “and the hatchways off, so I think they will manage. It will be pretty close, no doubt, but none of these people are particularly fond of fresh air.”

“You have got supper ready for the men, I hope, Miller. They had something to eat in the village at daybreak, and they have had the biscuits they took with them; but I expect they are all ready for a regular meal. Of course they will have a ration of grog all round.”

“I have seen to all that, sir, and Marco came up just before you came alongside, to say that supper would be ready for us in five minutes. How he managed it I don’t know, for he, Mr. Beveridge, and Zaimes have been busy settling the women below ever since they came on board. How did the chief get through it?”

“As well as anyone, except in the climbing. There is a lot more in him than we thought, Miller. I watched him when he was loading and firing, and he was just as cool and quiet as if he was sitting here on the quarter-deck, and what was better, he always fell in with what I suggested without any talk or argument, and if I were asked I should say that he really enjoyed the whole business. I have never seen him look so bright and animated. Well, I am quite ready for supper; at least I shall be when I have had a wash.”

In a short time the party in the cabin was seated at supper. All were in the highest spirits. Their enterprise had been a complete success in every respect, and they were the more pleased that it had been accomplished without the loss of a single life on the part of the crew. The supper was not quite so varied as usual, and Marco apologized for its shortcomings.

“There is no occasion to say a word, Marco. It is excellent,” Martyn said. “I don’t know how on earth you have managed it.”

“I had most of it ready before we dropped anchor, Captain Martyn,” he said, “but I went ashore with the boats and have been helping with the women until a few minutes ago, so I have not had time to finish the things properly; but I thought you would rather have them so than wait.”

“Much rather, Marco. Now, Miller, let us hear your report. I have not had time to ask you a single question since I came on board. We made you out from the top of the hill twenty-five miles away, with two Turkish frigates after you.”

“Yes,” Miller said, “we were as near as possible caught in a trap. It was lucky I had had the anchor buoyed and the chain ready to slip. Of course we kept a sharp watch all night; I was on deck half an hour before day began to break, for I knew that that was the dangerous time. It was very dark then.”

“Yes, we know that,” Martyn put in. “We pretty nearly broke our necks scrambling along the face of a hill nearly as steep as a wall.”

“Just as the first gleam of daylight came,” Miller went on, “I made out two large craft coming along about a mile and a half from shore. They were not quite abreast of us, perhaps half a mile south. You may guess we lost no time in slipping the chain and getting up our head sails. Fortunately there was enough breeze even in here to fill our sails. I knew they could not make us out as yet, lying in here under the shadow of the land, and, indeed, I was half inclined for a moment to lower the sails and trust to their not making us out at all, but as it would soon be light, and no doubt they would be keeping a sharp look-out for us, I saw it wouldn’t do. It was not long before I saw that, though, of course, they had a good deal more wind than we had, we were holding our own with them.

“Ten minutes after we got under weigh they made us out and changed their course, steering so as to cut us off before we were clear of the northern point, while I stood a little more out so as to get farther from the shelter of the land and catch a little more breeze. They closed a bit with us, and one of them began to try the distance with his bow-guns, but though we were not quite out of range, the shot went altogether wide of us. I never saw such lubberly shooting. We were better than a mile ahead when we came out beyond the point and got the true wind. As soon as I felt her beginning to walk along I got a couple of sails overboard to deaden her way and stood for the north-west. The Turks got out stun-sails and did their best to come up to us, and as the wind was pretty fresh they walked along faster than I should have given them credit for, and I had to get one of the sails on board again to keep my distance. They fired occasionally, but as I kept them in line they could only bring a couple of bow-chasers to bear.