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Russell, W. Clark (William Clark), 1844-1911

"The Honour of the Flag"


Jackson and I at once tumbled into the boat, but we were careful to
keep her close to the two craft, and the amazing platform they floated
on, for they furnished out a show that was not to be missed aboard the
approaching vessel, whereas the boat must make little more than a
speck though but half-a-mile distant.
The breeze the vessel was bringing along with her was all about us
presently with a threat of weight in it. We stepped an oar, with the
shirts atop, and they blew out bravely and made a good signal.
"Why, see, Mr. Small!" cries Jackson, on a sudden, "ain't she the
_Hindoo Merchant_?"
I stood awhile, and then joyfully exclaimed, "Ay, 't is the old hooker
herself, thanks be to God!"
I knew her by her short fore-topgallantmast, by her chequered band,
and by other signs clear to a sailor's eye, and the three of us sent
up a shout of delight, for it was like stumbling upon one's very home,
as it were, after having been all night lost amidst the blackness and
snow of the country where one's house stands.
She came along handsomely, with foam to the hawsepipe, thanks to the
freshening breeze, and her main royal and topgallantsail clewing up as
she approached, for our signal had been seen; then drove close
alongside with her topsail aback and in a few minutes we were aboard,
shaking hands with Captain Blow, and all others who extended a fist to
us, and spinning our yarn in response to the eager questions put.


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