and was,
I suspected, growing vicious. Now one rolled in the dust, now the
other, but Sambo was generally the sufferer. Fearing that he might make
use of a long knife I saw stuck in his belt, I made signs to Tom
Rockets, who not having had the means of procuring Burgundy, was happily
sober, to go in and put an end to the combat.

Poor Tom had better not have interfered, for Sambo, mistaking him for
his first antagonist, began pommelling away most furiously at his head,
while Robson, not comprehending the cause of his interference, attacked
him on the other side.

"Who are you, you son of a sea-cook, who ventures to interfere in the
quarrels of two gentlemen, I should like to know?" he hiccoughed out;
"let me tell you, I don't allow such proceedings!"

"My eyes, two gentlemen!" exclaimed Tom, fairly nonplussed; "you is an
officer, sir, but a rum sort of gentleman is t'other, I should think."

Tom bore his hammering for some time, when, getting a fair lick at
Sambo, he sent him spinning away ten yards off with a blow of his
ox-like fist. Sambo looked very much astonished, scarcely comprehending
at first whence the blow had come, but it had the effect of teaching
him, I suspect, for the future, to respect the arm of a British tar, and
of putting an end to the combat, which, I fain must own, did not redound
much to the credit of my brother-officer.

"Come, sir," quoth honest Tom, seizing him by the leg, "just let me
hoist you aboard this here animal, you'll be more comfortable-like than
kicking away here on the ground."

Robson made no objection, but looked up with a smiling aspect in Tom's
face.

"Yeo-ho! heave-ho!" sang out my follower, and the lieutenant was quickly
seated on the back of the quadruped, though, I suspect, he sat there
with no great amount of comfort, for he held on tightly by the pommel
with both hands, as if he expected soon to be tossed off again. Perhaps
he had in his recollection the occurrence of some such accident in
former times.

After this there was a general cry of "Heave ahead, my hearties, heave
ahead!" And we all mounted as best we could. Our two black guards got
on their steeds in no very good-humour with affairs in general, and us
in particular, though their mules were the greatest sufferers.

How the authorities could suppose that two niggers, albeit armed with
the longest hangers, and the biggest pistols ever used, could keep in
order a party of half-drunken British offic