"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 pa.s.s 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 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 c.o.c.kpit, 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.

It was all new to Phil, and he saw neither harm nor danger in it. It was nothing to him but going below to fetch that flannel bag, and he was in profound ignorance of the fact that if it went near a light he would be blown to pieces, while he could not have had a more dangerous task than that of the powder monkey who fetched up the charges from the magazine, where if a spark should fall the vessel would be blown to atoms and sunk.

Phil was not afraid, for he could not see the danger, and he laughed and liked to run up and down from the powder magazine to the main deck, because the big bluff men always laughed and said pleasant things to him. He was not afraid either on that day when Jack Jeens looked very serious and sponged his face for him over a bucket of water.

"Why, you're as black as a sweep with the powder," said Jack. "I say, didn't you feel frightened when the guns roared?"

"No," said Phil; "I only felt as if I should like to put my fingers in my ears. That gun did make a noise."

Just at that moment a little serious-looking officer in uniform, with only one eye and one arm, stopped short, took off his c.o.c.ked hat, and after putting it on again, laid the telescope he carried upon Phil's shoulder.

"Why, you're the little fellow they call Phil, arn't you?" he said.

Phil nodded shortly.

"You're the little powder monkey, they tell me."

"Yes," said Phil, looking at the little man wonderingly.

"And you've been bravely nursing the boy who broke his leg, eh?"

"Oh, it isn't brave," said Phil, laughing and showing his white teeth.

"His leg hurts him very badly sometimes, and he likes me to read to him then and tell him stories."

"Oh," said the officer; "then you read to him and tell him stories?"