by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XXVII
THE PLANNING OF AN EXPEDITION
The Bronx continued on her course indicated in the verbal order of theflag-officer. Christy felt that he had had a narrow escape from death,or at least a severe wound, at the hands of the desperado who hadinvaded his cabin. Flanger had escaped, after he had been put on boardof the flag-ship, with the assistance of Galvinne; and he appeared notto have taken the trouble to render the same service to his confederate.The ships' companies of the two steamers were inclined to converse,giving and receiving the news; and doubtless the prisoner had takenadvantage of the confusion to slip on board of the Bronx and secretehimself.
His scheme, which must have been devised after he obtained admission tothe cabin, was born of nothing less than madness, and could hardly havesucceeded under any circumstances, though it might have ended in killingor disabling the commander. Christy felt that a kind Providence hadsaved him, and he rendered devout thanks for the merciful interposition,as it seemed to him.
While he was still considering the subject, he heard the call for "Allthe port watch!" on deck, and Mr. Camden came below to wake the thirdlieutenant, for the routine was hardly in working order on board of thesteamer. The commander went into his stateroom, and soon returned withthe sealed envelope in his hand. He was deeply interested in itscontents, for he hoped his vessel was ordered to take part in theMississippi expedition, which was to attack Forts Jackson and St.Philip, and capture the city of New Orleans. Eight bells had beenstruck, indicating midnight, which was the hour at which he was directedto break the seal. The first lieutenant was quite as much interested inascertaining the destination of the Bronx as the commander. Christy hadinvited him to his cabin.
"Midnight is rather an odd time for the opening of the envelopecontaining the orders," said Mr. Flint, as he seated himself at thetable. "But I suppose it was chosen for a purpose."
"Undoubtedly; headed to the south-west the ship would be off the passesof the Mississippi at eight bells in the forenoon. If we are sent toLake Pontchartrain or Ship Island, we should be a long way off ourcourse at that time," added Christy, as he broke the seal of theenvelope. "Neither Lake Pontchartrain nor the Mississippi. We areordered to Barataria Bay, where a steamer is loading with cotton."
"I did not believe a little vessel like the Bronx would be sent upthe river," said Mr. Flint, when the commander had read the paper."Barataria Bay--that locality is noted for something in history, isn'tit, captain?"
"Perhaps you have never read 'Lafitte, the Pirate of the Gulf;' but thisbay was his famous resort," said Christy, smiling. "It was formerlyquite as noted as a resort for smugglers, and Lafitte was more asmuggler than a pirate in this region. He was six feet two inches inheight, a well educated and handsome man, so that he was a first-classhero for a novel of the dime class," added Christy.
"I believe your late passenger in the cabin knows something aboutBarataria Bay and its surroundings, for I think I heard the Russian saythat he had done some smuggling in this quarter," said Mr. Flint. "Asyou are doubtless aware, by a series of lakes, bayous, and a canal whichcomes out near Carrollton, just above New Orleans, water communicationis open to the Mississippi River for small vessels."
"Do you say that Captain Flanger has been a smuggler in these waters?"
"I think the Russian said so."
"In that case, probably Mike was with him, and he may be a useful man tous as a pilot," replied Christy. "The commodore says the Western Gulfsquadron had no steamer that was suitable for this service, for there isonly nine feet of water on the bar of Barataria at low water. For thisreason he had been requested to send the Bronx, not only on account ofher light draft, but of her speed."
The commander read his orders through. It was believed that vessels wereloading with cotton there, towed down in flatboats by small steamers,and that a steamer of four hundred tons was fitting out in the bay as aprivateer. It might not be practicable for the Bronx to go into the bay;but she was to do what she could to capture the cotton vessels and thesteamer when they came out.
Mr. Flint went to his stateroom, and turned in; but Christy spread hischart of the Gulf of Mexico, and using his parallel ruler, he found thatthe present course of the Bronx would take her to the Pass a Loutre, themost northerly entrance of the Mississippi River. He went to the bridgeat once, and directed the officer of the deck to make the coursesouth-west by south. Everything was going well on deck, and Mr. Pennanthad proved that he was a competent officer.
By this time the commander began to feel that sleep was a necessity forhim, for he had hardly rested at all the night before, and he turned inat two bells. He dropped asleep almost instantly, and did not waketill he heard eight bells in the morning. It was quite light in hisstateroom, and he realized that it was eight o'clock, instead of four,as he at first supposed.
Dressing himself hastily, Christy hastened on deck, and to the bridge,where he found Mr. Flint, who informed him that the Bronx was off theSouth Pass of the Mississippi. The fleet of the flag-officer of theWestern Gulf squadron had gone up the river, with the exception of asingle vessel, which had not been able to get over the bar. There were afew sail in sight.
"We are all right on the course, Mr. Flint; now make it west," saidChristy to the executive officer; and then went to his cabin for hisbreakfast, directing the officer of the deck to report to him when thesteamer was off the South West Pass.
When he had finished his morning meal, he proceeded to study hischart again. He had never been to the westward of the mouths of theMississippi; but he had a chart of the entrance to Barataria Bay. Heexamined it with the greatest care, and made himself familiar with thebearings and distances. In about an hour after he left the deck, amessenger came to the door of the cabin to inform him that the SouthWest Pass was in sight, bearing due north.
"Make the course west north-west," said he to the first lieutenant,as he joined him on the bridge.
"West north-west, sir," repeated the executive officer, as he gave it tothe quartermaster at the wheel.
"We shall soon be where our operations begin; but I am afraid we are tohave a lazy time of it," added Christy, as soon as the vessel's head hadbeen pointed in the direction indicated.
"Why so, Captain Passford?" asked Mr. Flint.
"Barataria Bay makes a big hole in the State of Louisiana, and most ofit is shoal water. At the south of it is the Isle Grande Terre, on thewestern end of which is a fort, which commands the entire channel,"replied the captain.
"That's bad," added Mr. Flint, shaking his head.
"I have no idea of its strength; but I do not care to have the Bronxknocked to pieces by the big guns of a fort. The bar of Barataria andthe shoal water of the entrance to the bay extend out about two milesinto the Gulf. At low water, two miles from the fort, we should bury ourkeel in the mud. It looks just now as though we should have to put theBronx under the guns of the fort, or simply blockade the entrance to thebay. That makes it look like a quiet time in these waters."
"Of course the Confederates on the lower Mississippi are using all theirresources to strengthen Fort Jackson and Fort St. Philip; and they canmake a better use of big guns and artillerymen than in defending anopening like this one," replied Mr. Flint.
"This is not a cotton-growing region, but is given up to sugar raising,"added Christy. "They have to bring the cotton a long distance in orderto ship it here."
"For these reasons, I do not believe this fort is of much account."
"Perhaps not; but I should not care to have the Bronx sunk by acolumbiad in the attempt to find out the strength of the fort."
"It is possible that the Russian knows something about this region,"suggested Mr. Flint.
"I will have a talk with him," replied the commander, as he left thebridge.
Seating himself on the quarter-deck, he sent for Michael Bornhoff, whopresently reported to him. This man had proved himself to be entirelyfaithful and reliable; and Christy had no doubts in regard to hisloyalty, for his race guarante
ed that.
"Do you know where we are bound, Mike?" asked Christy.
"I know what all the crew know, for word has been passed around that weare bound to Barataria Bay," replied the Russian with a cheerful smile.
"Were you ever there, Mike?"
"Was I ever there, captain? I lived there a year!" exclaimed thecontraband. "I was in the fishing business at that time," he added witha significant smile on his face.
"What do you mean by that?"
"We had the Magnolia over here then, and I used to go out fishing in herabout every night," chuckled Mike. "Sometimes I did not catch any fish,and sometimes I caught five hundred boxes of Havana cigars. I oftencaught other kinds of fish."
"You did not always eat the fish you caught," suggested Christy.
"No, sir; but I used to drink some of them."
"Precisely so; West India rum and wines."
"Cigars mostly, sir, was the kind of fish we caught. Captain Flangerbrought them outside the Grand Pass: I took them up to Fort Lafitte,and the captain's brother worked them into New Orleans and other places.They did a big business before the custom-house folks broke it up."
"Very likely; and I dare say you know all about this region."
"No doubt of that, sir."
"What do you know about the fort?"
"Not much, captain, for in our business we did not have anything to dowith forts and such things," chuckled Mike. "The old quarters of themechanics and laborers used to be on the Gulf shore, but they moved themup north of the fort, on the Grand Pass. About a mile east of the fortthere is a big plantation."
"That is all for the present, Mike," added Christy.
The contraband touched his cap, for he had been rigged out in a newsuit of seaman's clothes. The commander retired to his cabin, and againdevoted himself to the study of the chart of the locality. His firstpurpose must be to obtain accurate information in regard to the strengthof the fort, and the position of the steamer, if there were such a craftin the bay. He decided to approach the entrance by the East Channel,though it would not be possible for the Bronx to reach the Grand Passfrom that direction, for there were hardly more than six feet of waterat low tide; and the rise and fall was less than a foot and a half.
He had decided upon his method of operations, and then wished again thathe was not in command of the steamer; for the expedition he intended tosend out was one he would have been glad to command in person, insteadof remaining inactive on board of the Bronx. As soon as he had arrangedhis plan, he went on deck. To the astonishment of the first lieutenant,he changed the course of the steamer to the north, and at noon let gothe anchor in four fathoms of water. The vessel remained there till itwas dark, and then proceeded to the westward, sounding all the time.