VI -- THE SCHOONER "VENTURA"
THE night was considerably clearer than anybody on board her desiredwhen the schooner "Ventura" headed for the land. It rose in places,black and sharp against the velvety indigo, over her dipping bows,though most of the low littoral was wrapped in obscurity. Harper, theAmerican skipper, leaned upon the helm watching the growing brightnessin the east, and a man whose white garments cut against the dusky seasat upon the rail close beside him. They were both anxious, for therewere no lights on that strip of Cuban coast, and the "Ventura" haddrifted with the stream in a calm which had complicated Harper'sreckoning. He had to find a certain reef-studded bay, and run theschooner into a creek among the mangroves without being seen by thegunboat which he had reason to surmise was looking out for him.
Forward, a cluster of men were sitting about the windlass and leaning onthe rail. They were of diverse nationality and doubtful character--American, Castilian, and African by extraction, though in the case ofsome of uncertain color it would have been difficult to decide whichblood predominated in their veins. It was their task to supply theinsurgents with the munitions of war, and they undertook itdispassionately, without any patriotic convictions, for the dollars itwould bring. Indeed, most of them were not held in much esteem in thecountries they belonged to, or they would not in all probability havebeen there on board the "Ventura."
Appleby watched them languidly from where he sat behind the wheel, andwondered what lay before him when he glanced towards the dusky coast-line. He was, however, not unduly anxious, for he had cut himself adriftfrom the cramped life he had led, and as yet found the new one pleasant.It needed qualities he felt he possessed, and which, indeed, he had withdifficulty held in due subjection in England; while the fact that itmight at any time terminate suddenly caused him no great concern. In themeanwhile the risks and opportunities attached to it had their charm forone who had long found poverty and the restraints of conventionalityirksome.
"We'll have the moon up in ten minutes," said Harper, as the "Ventura"swung up on a frothing sea. "That would suit us if we were in the bay,but I'm not certain where we're heading for just now. You still thinkthat was Sparto Point we saw at dusk, Rosendo?"
The man who sat upon the rail shook his head. "Who knows!" he said. "Ifshe is not the Sparto she may be the Playa Santiago, or the Cameron."
Harper turned to Appleby with a little gesture of resignation. "You hearhim. He's talking," he said. "Thirty miles more or less don't count withthem. If we don't get in to-day, we may to-morrow, and if it's next weeknobody's going to worry. They've nice business-like notions in theircountry."
Rosendo laughed. "We not find the Sparto? Good! It is simple. She isfarther on. We find her in two or three more hour."
"Oh yes!" said Harper. "Still, what I want to know is, what's going tohappen if the gunboat comes along while we're looking for her? I've anotion it might mean a white wall and a firing party."
Rosendo shrugged his shoulders, and Appleby glanced towards the east.There was a bank of cloud in that quarter, but the sky above it was apale luminescent blue. Then he looked astern, and saw the white tops ofthe seas heave against the darkness, for it was blowing fresh from thenorth. The "Ventura," rolling lazily, was running before it with onlyher boom-foresail and two jibs set, but now and then the crest of a seathat surged past lapped her rail.
"Wouldn't she stand more sail?" he said.
"Oh yes!" said Harper, pointing to the mainsail which lay loose beneaththe big boom that swung, banging a little, above them. "It's thereready. Still, it will be 'most three hours yet before there's water in,and if the gunboat came along I'd sooner be here, where I've room torun, than jammed right up between her and a lee shore. If I was surethat was the high ground behind Point Sparto I'd feel considerablyhappier."
They rolled on awhile, and then a half-moon sailed up. The sea changedto flashing silver, and Harper, leaving the wheel to Rosendo, went upthe foremast hoops and swung perched on the cross-trees, black againstthe night. He came down by and by, and there was relief in his voice.
"That's the Point sure enough! We'll have the mainsail on her, boys," hesaid.
The men came aft in haste. There was a rattle of blocks, and Applebybent his back among the rest, while the folds of dusky canvas rosethrashing up the mast. They swelled into shape and became at rest, whilethe schooner, slanting over suddenly, put on speed, and drove awaytowards the land with a great frothing beneath her rail. She rolledlittle now, but there was a thud when her bows went down and the spraywhirled half the height of her foresail. Appleby felt the exhilarationof swift motion, and his pulses throbbed a trifle faster as he watchedthe great breadths of canvas that gleamed silver now sway athwart theblue, and the froth swirl past the slender strip of hull that wasdwarfed by comparison beneath them. The "Ventura" was very fast, but shecould not compete with steam; and he noticed that Harper, who had takenthe helm again, every now and then glanced over the rail. He appeared tobe staring persistently towards one quarter of the horizon.
Suddenly a man standing high on the cross-trees shouted, and Appleby,springing to his feet, saw a faint, dusky smear drift athwart the blueand silver, where a minute earlier there had only been sky and water.
"Smoke!" said Harper. "I don't know that it's the 'Ensenada,' but I'mtaking no chances of meeting her, We'll have the gaff-topsails up, boys,and the foresail over."
He pulled at the wheel. There was a bang as the boom-foresail lurchedover, so that it and the big mainsail now swelled on either hand. Thenthe men swarmed about the deck again, and Appleby wondered a little whenamidst a clatter of blocks two more strips of sail went thrashing aloft,for it seemed to him that the "Ventura" was already carrying a riskypress of canvas. He, however, pulled among the rest, and it was notuntil the schooner was clothed with canvas to her topmast heads that hestraightened his back and looked about him. As he did so she dipped herbows into a sea, and a cascade poured in forward. It came aft frothingwhen her head went up, and then as she plunged into the hollow anothermass of foam came up astern and surged by a foot above her rail. Harperlaughed.
"Wet feet don't count in this trade," he said. "She's not going to scoopin too much of it if I can keep her running, but you'll see somethingvery like chaos if we have to put her on the wind. Is that smoke risingany?"
Appleby fancied it was, for the dusky smear had lengthened, and itseemed to him there was something more solid than vapor in the midst ofit. The skipper, however, in view of the inadvisability of bringing thegreat mainsail crashing over, could not turn his head.
"Still, even if it is a gunboat, we should be well in with the landbefore she overhauls us," said Appleby.
"Yes," said Harper grimly. "The trouble is there's no water yet into thecreek, and there'll be a blame nasty surf running into the bay. Still,there's a place where we could hold her to it with two anchors down, andit would take good eyes to make us out against the land. It's just aquestion whether those fellows yonder see us first."
It appeared to Appleby a somewhat important one, but he had to wait forthe answer with the rest, and by and by it came. The man on the cross-trees shouted, the smear of smoke seemed to break in two, as though thevessel beneath it had changed her direction, and she became visible in amoment or two, a faint dark blur upon the moonlit water. Harper turnedhis head swiftly, and his face showed very grim in the moonlight when hestared in front of him again.
"I guess our chances have gone down fifty cents in the dollar," he said."Get a range of cable up on deck. Then we'll have the boat cleared handyand the hatch-wedges out."
The men became busy amidst a rattle of chain, and then stood where itwas a little dryer between the masts, with their shadows lying blackupon the silvery cloths of the foresail. They were watching the steamer,which was rising upon one quarter with the smear of smoke blowing awayfrom her. Appleby could see her plainly now, a strip of black hull thatrolled with slanted spars across the harmonies of blue and silver--andshe seemed to him portentous in her shadowin
ess, for there was no blinkof light on board her.
"The 'Ensenada'?" said Harper.
"Si, senor!" said Rosendo, with a little gesture which was veryexpressive.
Harper pulled at the wheel, and Appleby saw that he was addressing him.
"There are two of their gunboats on this coast, and it's quite in theusual course that it's the one I don't want to see that turns up," hesaid. "Her commander has a little grievance against me."
Appleby did not ask him what it was. He had something else to think of,and the swift upward lurches and wisps of spray that blew about the"Ventura" made conversation difficult. The seas also seemed to begrowing steeper as she closed with the land, and washed in as they wentsmoking past. Still, but for that sinister shape steadily rising higheron one quarter he could have found pleasure in the scene. The wail ofwind, the humming of the shrouds, patter of spray, and roar of frothyseas stirred the blood in him, while the swift reeling rush when thebows went up brought him a curious sense of exultation.
It was stress and effort of muscle and body he had hungered for in thesleepy English town, for slow endurance was nothing new to him, and hewas apparently to get it now. There was a meaning in the tense blackfigures of the men, and the grim impassiveness of Harper's face as hestiffened his grasp on the wheel, for human fibre was under strain aswell as hemp and wood and metal, which groaned under the pressure whichracked them to the uttermost limit. Yet while the gunboat crept upastern Appleby felt at home, as though this was not a novel sensation,and he had been through it all, or something very similar, more thanonce before. The fixed look in the eyes that gleamed in the moonlight,the set faces, and the rigidity of the men's pose appeared in a curiousfashion familiar.
A flash from the steamer roused him, there was a detonation, and aquarter of a mile beyond them a little white cloud rose from the sea.Some of the black figures swung round, but Appleby looked straight infront of him. He did not know why he avoided any abrupt movement, but hefelt without reflection that it was incumbent on him. It was, however,not the first time a man of his or his mother's name had stood outwardlyunmoved, at least, under artillery fire.
There was also something to see ahead--a dim, forest-shrouded littoralacross which the vapors were streaming, and a faint white line of beach.In the foreground were broad streaks of froth, and the long blur of ajutting point with a yeasty seething about the end of it. Away on theother hand lay a smear of dusky trees, and the gap between them and thepoint was, he surmised, the bay they had been looking for. It held noshelter for them that he could see. Then Harper called the SpaniardRosendo.
"There's not going to be water in for an hour yet, anyway," he said.
Rosendo shook his head. "There is much tree on the Point," he said.
Harper appeared reflective. "Yes," he said, "that's what I was thinking.Well, with this wind the Point would break the sea, and she mightn'tbump the bottom out of her if we did put her on the bar. Those fellowscouldn't get a clear shot at us across the trees, and they wouldn't beanxious to send boats in considering the sea that's running. Still,there's a thing that's worrying me."
He glanced forward towards one of the streaks of froth which Applebysurmised showed where a reef lay below, and Rosendo made an expressivegrimace.
"Los Dientes!" he said, and spread his arms out as though to indicate ameasure. "One brazo a half now."
Harper nodded. "I can't run for the gut behind it without bringing thatfellow too close," he said. "If I go round to weather we'll have toclose-haul her, and he'd come up near enough to sink us if we took sailoff her. Still, she'll scarcely carry what she has got now on the wind."
Rosendo shrugged his shoulders as he said in Castilian, "Between thefire and the cooking pot there is not much choice, my friend!"
Then the men between the masts came aft together, and one of them, whosecolor was not exactly white, stopped in front of Harper.
"We have no use for being run slap on the Dientes, and she's not goingto work off it if we hold on much longer."
Harper swung a hand up commandingly. "When I'm not fit to sail this boatI'll ask your help," he said. "I've a good deal less use for showing theSpaniard just what I mean to do while he could spoil my hand by alteringhis course a point or two. Get your boom-foresail over, and the staysailon to her!"
It was done, though the "Ventura" rolled her rail in when the big sailswung banging over. By and by Harper brought the wind abeam, and shedrove along at an angle to her previous course, with one side hove high,while the sea came in in cataracts over either bow. Appleby clutched therail, for the deck slanted away beneath him, and he wondered how thebarefooted men kept their footing. The other rail was apparently levelwith the sea, and the brine that sluiced down the incline washed knee-deep inside it. The masts sloped as the deck did, with the spray beatinglike grapeshot into the foresail between them; but the topmasts abovethem slanted further, and Appleby understood why Harper's face wasanxious when he glanced aloft. The gunboat was within easy range now,and it was evident there would be no escape for them if anything yieldedunder the strain. In fact, Appleby was wondering whether her commanderfelt sure of them since he was not firing, when there was another flashfollowed by the roar of a gun. An unseen object that could be heardthrough the sound of wind and sea passed between the masts, and Harpernodded.
"I guess that decides the thing. What she can't carry she'll have todrag," he said.
She dragged it for another five minutes, staggering under a press ofsail, and then there was a crash aloft, and topmast and mainsail gafffell to leeward together. A clamor of voices went up, and the"Ventura's" bows swung round a little further off the wind; whileAppleby, who saw Harper's face in the moonlight, noticed that it was setand very grim.
"You can run down the staysail and outer jib so she'll not fall toleeward all at once," he said.
The men went forward floundering amidst the spray, and the plunges grewa trifle easier, while the seas swung the "Ventura" aloft instead ofdeluging her; but a glance made the position unpleasantly plain toAppleby. To leeward lay the white frothing on the Dientes reef, and hesurmised that the "Ventura" could not clear it without her after canvas;to windward the gunboat, coming down on them rapidly. There was, itseemed, no escape, and he wondered vaguely what would happen. Harpersaid nothing whatever, but stood with his lean figure casting a blackshadow upon the crippled mainsail, grasping the wheel. So they drove onfor another five minutes, and then, with a glance at the gunboat, theskipper straightened himself.
"They're not going to have the guns, and the schooner might fetch tendollars when I'm through with her," he said. "Get the foresail off her,and stand by to swing out the boat!"
The sail came down thrashing, and the men stood very still and silentwhen they had hooked the tackles on the boat. Their faces were turnedforward, and Appleby guessed that they were watching the white upheavalsthat showed where the seas rolled across the submerged reef. This wasnot astonishing, for the "Ventura's" bows had swung further round, andit was evident that Harper was running them upon it. Appleby wassensible of a curious admiration for him. He still stood at the wheel,slouching over it, now suspense had gone and certainty had come, a mostunimpressive figure, in old duck jacket and brine-soaked trousers thatwere both too loose for him, but it was evident that the spirit whichdisdains dramatic expression and often burns most clearly in unexpectedplaces was in him.
"Hold on!" he said quietly as the bows went up.
Then she struck, with a crash that sent two men reeling across her deck,and the sea that rolled up behind her surged frothing on board. It wentforward waist deep; the "Ventura" lifted, and came down again, witheverything in her rattling and her crew holding fast for their lives.Then she twisted round, so that the next comber foamed across her andground her on the reef, hove herself up, scraped forward, grinding andgroaning, a few more fathoms, and stopped again; while a negro and aCuban shaken from their hold rolled down the slanting deck clutching ateach other until they fell into the water pent up by t
he lower rail. Thedin was bewildering, for every block and spar banged and rattled amidstthe dull roar of the seas, but it was rent by the crash of a gun.
Grasping the rail with both hands, Appleby saw the gunboat rolling blackathwart the moonlight, while a smear of vapor broadened about her; butthere was another sound beneath him as he gazed, and while the splintersflew in showers a great rent opened in the deck. Nobody said anything,or could have been heard if he had, and Appleby clung tighter still whenonce more a sea crested with spouting white came along. It lifted the"Ventura" up, and then there was a curious quietness as it dropped herclear of the reef. Through the sudden silence Harper's voice rose evenlyand almost expressionless.
"I guess there's some of the rudder left, though it's jammed. Give me ahand," he said.
Appleby sprang to help him, and between them they dragged the helm over.The "Ventura" lurched on more smoothly with a gurgling sound inside her,for the reef broke the sea; but ten minutes later she struck again, andremained this time immovable. Nobody waited for orders, and in swiftsilence the boat was got over, while a fire commenced to twinkle on thebeach. Wooden cases were passed up from the hold, and--for the water wassmoother there--the boat got away. Four men went in her, and the restdropped into the hold, where they tore out boxes and cases and passedthem from man to man. While they worked the gun boomed again, but thegasping men toiled the more fiercely, and Appleby did his part withthem. He was dripping with perspiration and spray, his hands werebleeding, and his duck jacket rent up the back, but, gasping andpanting, he labored on with a fierce pleasure that seemed whollyillogical.
Once he lifted his head above the hatch, as he tore the jacket whichimpeded him off his shoulders, and saw that the gunboat had stopped. Shewas not firing now, and his comrades had, he fancied, sent three loadsashore by that time; but he had scarcely glanced at her when Harper sawhim. "Hustle!" he said. "The boats are coming."
How long they toiled in the hold Appleby could never remember, butthough it appeared no more than a few minutes to him the moon had movedacross a broad strip of sky when he crawled on deck again. The boat laybeneath him, half full of cases, and the men were dropping into her. Twoother boats showed for a moment to windward, and then sank from sightagain.
"Hold on!" said Harper, pointing to the cases still on deck. "Into thesea with them!"
Appleby and another man threw them over, though there were impatientcries from the boat below, and the rest were shoving off when theydropped into her. Somebody was baling furiously, two men tugged andthrust, Spanish fashion, at every oar, and they reeled away shorewardswith the water lapping into her. Then a fire grew brighter above theroaring beach, men came floundering waist-deep through the surf, thosein the boat sprang over, and they went up with the wash of a sea.Appleby, scrambling out of the backwash, stood up, dripping, breathless,and aching all over, and saw Harper not far away and a host of duskyfigures flitting about the fire. Then there was a flash from seawards, acrash in the forest behind them, and they disappeared.
"Well," said the skipper quietly, "the 'Ventura' isn't going to sea anymore. You have to take your chances in this business; and we got most ofthe inside out of her, anyway."
The Dust of Conflict Page 6