The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution

by William Osborn Stoddard

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE PICAROON.

  "Guert," said Vine Avery, as they stood together, with their backsagainst the main boom of the _Noank_, "what do you think of this?"

  "Think?" said Guert. "Well! It's the first time I ever saw summer inwinter."

  "They're having good sleighing in New London," said Vine. "Skating,too."

  "Guess so," said Guert. "I wish my mother were here, and Rachel Tarnswith her. They'd enjoy this."

  "My mother's made two West India trips," replied Vine. "She knows allabout it. Likes it, too."

  "It's the laziest kind of cruising, though," said Guert. "We've dodgedaway from some sails, and we've run after some, but we haven't takenanything."

  "Our chances'll come, boys," put in Captain Avery himself, as he camestrolling along the deck. "Not just 'bout here, maybe. Yonder on theeasterly Bahamas. Not many British traders are likely to be methereaway."

  "What are we here for, then, father?" asked Vine. "What's yournotions?"

  "We had to," said the captain. "The Frenchman we spoke, told me theFlorida Channel's alive with British cruisers. We sighted two of 'em,you know, and had to run for it."

  "Where next?" asked Vine.

  "We'll take a course toward Porto Rico," said his father; "then up thecoast of Cuba. We'll try the Bahama Channel, and the Santaren, and theNicholas. I want to send home some prizes, pretty soon, on Britishaccount."

  Day after day, the _Noank_ had been hunting, hunting, farther andfarther into the southern sea, through good weather and bad. All thewhile Guert Ten Eyck had been at school. Up-na-tan had laboriouslytried to teach him whatever he himself knew about guns, large andsmall. The other sailors had done their duty by him, concerning ropesand sails and points of seamanship. Captain Avery had driven him hardat his books on navigation. Therefore, if the cruising had been moreor less lazy business for others, it had contained a good deal of hardwork for the young sea apprentice. He was in a fair way to be made agood sailor of, and to be ready in due season to handle a ship.

  "What you want most," Captain Avery had said, "is a long v'y'ge on asquare-rigged vessel, under a hard captain. I'll find a chance for youone o' these days. You can't learn everything on board a schooner."

  That idea was growing steadily in Guert's mind, and he now and thenfound himself dreaming of all sorts of perilous cruises in greatAmerican three-masters. By these splendid ships of his imagination,all of which were as yet unlaunched from any shipyard, the best keelsof England were to be met and beaten. He was to command one of them,and was to become a captain first, and then a commodore. It was all anentirely natural young sailor's ambition, but it was looking far awayinto the future of his country. All it was good for now was the helpit gave him in his pretty severe schooling.

  Just at this present hour, leaning against the boom and gazing at thelow coast line of the islands, he was calling to mind the many yarns hehad heard concerning them. He had read about them, a little. He knewhow they had been discovered by the Spaniards, and then taken fromthem, part of them, by the English and the French. He knew how theCarib natives had been slaughtered, and he had heard, from Coco inparticular, of the horrible manner in which the tobacco and sugarplantations had been provided with African slaves.

  Vine, too, was thinking, but of a very different matter.

  "Guert," he said, "away out yonder, easterly, there's the queerestpatch in all the Atlantic. It's where all the loose seaweed anddriftwood and wreckage float together. There are currents that whirlin there and make a centre of it. More and more seaweed and otherplants grow on that stuff year after year, and it's all a kind of swampon the surface, with deep water under it. They call it the SargassoSea. We were swept into the edges of it, once, and it took a freshbreeze to pull us out. I don't just know if a craft like this couldplow her way across it."

  "I guess she could," said Guert, "but I don't want to try. What I wantto see is Cuba and Porto Rico."

  Away beyond them, hardly visible in the distance, was a tree-coveredpoint of land. Captain Avery was studying it through his telescope,and they heard him mutter to himself:--

  "I don't know whether or not that is Watling's Island. If it is, we'vemade a better run on this tack than I thought we had. One good, longreach beyond that and we'll begin to be in the track of the traders."

  "Whoo-oop!" suddenly rang out the war-cry of Up-na-tan, from somewhereup the mainmast.

  "Where away?" shouted the captain. "What do you see?"

  "No see!" came down from the redskin. "Hark! Hear gun! Hark ahead!See point! More gun!"

  His ears had been better than theirs, but, after a moment of intenselistening, the entire ship's company of the _Noank_ felt sure that theyheard the dull boom of far-away cannon.

  Every sail was already set to take so fair and fresh a wind, and theswift schooner was eating up the distance rapidly.

  "All hands make ready for action!" shouted the captain. "Risk or norisk, I'm goin' to see what it is."

  His orders went out fast, but they went to the ears of men who hadsprung away without them. All the guns had been manned instantly.

  Coco and Guert and half a dozen more were at the pivot-gun, butUp-na-tan did not come down at once. The captain's order kept himaloft as the best lookout and listener he had. Louder, now, atintervals, came the ominous sound of the distant guns.

  "No big gun yet," called down the keen-eared Indian. "No big war-ship._Noank_ run right along."

  "The chief is worth his weight in gold!" exclaimed the captain."That's jest what I wanted to know, before roundin' that there p'int.I don't care to run under the guns of a British cruiser."

  Ships which are running toward each other under full sail cut everymile in two in the middle. For instance, they need to run only twomiles instead of four to get together. There was a dense forest growthon the point of Watling's Island, if that were indeed the land towindward, for the breeze was westerly. Everything beyond was hiddenfrom view until the _Noank_ passed the outer reef and tacked seaward,running almost wing and wing.

  "Whoo-oop!" came fiercely down from the red man's perch. "'Panishflag. Three-master. Trader. Not many gun. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop!Kidd! Kidd! Black flag schooner! Pirate! Not so big as _Noank_.Small gun! Take her quick! Kill 'em all! Whoo-oop!"

  "Hurrah!" arose in a general roar from the crew of the _Noank_, morethan one voice adding, vociferously, the desire that was felt to smashthe picaroon.

  "Ready, all, now!" sang out Captain Avery. "The American flag isagainst the black flag, the world over. We'll fight it, every time!"

  Fierce shouts of eagerness replied to him, and the men were strippingthemselves for a hard fight. The very most of clothing that wasactually needed under that hot sun, by men who were to handle cannon,was a shirt and trousers, and many of the brawny backs were even bare.Muskets, pikes, pistols, cutlasses, were bringing up from below.Ammunition, plenty of it, was serving out to all the guns, and now, asthe point of land was left to starboard, all eyes could see what kindof work had been cut out for the privateer.

  The Spaniard, as her flag declared her, was a three-master of,probably, not more than six hundred tons. She was crowding all sail,but she was evidently heavily laden.

  "She has too much cargo for good runnin'," growled Sam Prentice. "Thatbuccaneer has the heels of her."

  "What's worse'n that," said the captain, "she has nothin' but popgunsto fight him with. He won't sink her, though. What he wants is to runalong side and board her."

  "Then it'll be good-by to every livin' soul that's in her," said themate. "We'll jest put a stopper on all that!"

  "Up-na-tan," shouted the captain, "come down to your gun! We shall bein fair range in three minutes. Then give it to 'em as fast as you canload and fire."

  "Ugh!" was all the response they heard, and the Manhattan warrior camedown so swiftly that he was at his gun almost before they knew it.

  There was a pitiful scene, just then, o
n board the unlucky Spaniard.She had many passengers as well as much cargo. Women and children werecrouching in terror upon her deck, or hiding hopelessly away in hercabins. Fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, were gazing inawful despair at the horrible black flag of murder and ruin, which wasso evidently nearing them, minute after minute.

  "The _Santa Teresa_ is doomed!" groaned the Spanish captain, and thenhe raised his voice to shout courageously: "Men! we will fight to thelast! We'd better go to the bottom, than to let those devils get onboard!"

  "We'd better die fighting, than stand still to have our throats cut, orto walk the plank!" came back to him from among the men.

  Even the women begged for weapons. There were boys and girls who werefiercely handling firearms, and swords, and pikes. Numerous as mightbe the buccaneers, they were likely to win a costly victory upon thedeck of the _Santa Teresa_.

  "There goes our mizzenmast," called out her mate to the captain."We've no chance left, now!"

  "We never had any, Roderigo," replied the captain. "O God! Here theycome!"

  "Ho! Captain Velasquez!" came from the man at the wheel. "A sail tolarboard! A schooner!"

  "A Yankee flag!" said Mate Roderigo. "Captain! She's heading thisway!"

  "Alas!" mourned the captain. "What can a Yankee sugar-boat do for us?"

  A mournful wail went up from his women passengers as they heard him,but a tall gentleman near him touched his elbow.

  "Captain!" he said, "look again. That American does not seem to fearthe black flag. See! She is coming on full sail. What can it mean?"

  "Perhaps she does not yet know what they are, Senor Alvarez," sadlyresponded the captain. "She will be as hopelessly lost as we are."

  So thought the buccaneer captain himself, at that moment, for he andhis hideous crew were already rejoicing over two triumphs to comeinstead of one, and a second feast of bloodshed after taking theSpaniard.

  The black flag commander was a short, thin, tiger-faced man. He wasgaudily dressed, as were also some who seemed to be his lieutenants.As for his crew, they were of all sorts. They were the offscourings ofseveral nations, including Englishmen, French, Dutch, and Africans.They were at this moment yelling savagely, as they loaded and firedtheir guns. Not one of these was larger than a short six-pounder,although there was an absurd number of them, considering the size ofthe vessel. She was schooner-rigged, but she was much more lightlyconstructed than the _Noank_. Her breadth of beam was somewhatgreater, and she might be speedy. Precisely such craft were sometimesbuilt for the slave trade. They were expected to carry only humancargoes, as a rule, and to make swift runs from African slavebarracoons to American markets. Delays in such voyages implied heavylosses of black captives who would surely die in the hold.

  "We will take the Yankee schooner first," was the decision of thepirate captain. "We must cripple the Spaniard, so she cannot get away.Two prizes are better than one. We need that schooner yonder, for ourown trade."

  Loud laughs and jeers replied to him from many scores of throats, forthe buccaneer _Leon_ was positively over-thronged with sea-wolves.

  "Steady with the helm there!" rang out on board the _Noank_, as shearose like a duck upon the crest of a long sea.

  "Ugh!" said Up-na-tan, as the sheet of flame sprang from the brazenlips of his long eighteen. "Whoop!"

  "Struck her!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "That was a good shot!"

  "Between wind and water!" shouted Sam Prentice, studying the piratethrough his glass. "It took her as she heeled, and it knocked a holein her you could roll a barrel through."

  Whether or not any bodily harm had been done to any pirate, a chorus ofastonished yells and imprecations went up from her crowded deck. Allthe ears there could hear and understand the crash of timbers underthem, which had followed close upon the good shot of Up-na-tan.

  "Praise God!" gasped the captain of the _Santa Teresa_. "Oh! SenorAlvarez! I never thought of that. It is one of the new Americancolonial cruisers. They carry heavy guns. Their men are as brave aslions. All the saints be merciful and help them to shoot straight!"

  "Amen!" groaned the senor. "Laura! My dear wife! The Americans arearmed! We have some hope!"

  Down upon their knees, as if with one accord, dropped all thedespairing women and not a few of the men, the children groupingfrantically around their mothers. Loud and earnest were the hurriedsupplications and bitter was the wailing.

  Up-na-tan had not the least idea that he or his gunnery were beingprayed for, but he sent his next shot as truly as the first. He aimedat her hull, as near amidships as might be. It was no fault of histhat a slight roll of the _Noank_ lifted his line of fire so that hisflying iron struck the mainmast of the _Leon_ instead of her ribs. Thetall spar was shattered and went over the lee rail with all its tophamper, carrying with it several of the pirate crew who were aloft.

  That stunning success of the old warrior was greeted with a storm ofwild cheering from the crews of the _Noank_ and the _Santa Teresa_,while more than one woman's voice declared: "Praise God and all thesaints! Our prayers are heard!"

  The remark of Captain Velasquez was more seamanlike than religious.

  "Santo Domingo!" he exclaimed. "That cripples them! The villains cancome no nearer. They are at the mercy of that American. God blessher! Why does she not use her broadside guns?"

  She was not quite ready yet. It was better to ply her long eighteenand keep well away from any harm to her hull or rigging by theshort-range pieces of the _Leon_.

  "Give it to 'em!" said Captain Avery to Up-na-tan. "Make every shottell. Now for it, men! Ready with the port broadside! A minute more!Don't miss, for your lives!"

  The swift rush onward of the schooner brought her near enough, evenwhile he was giving his orders, and her six-pounders were worked byvery good marine marksmen. The pirates were helpless, and thebroadside of the _Noank_ ploughed among them with deadly effect. Asecond quickly followed, and still she was drawing nearer.

  "No surrender!" shouted the pirate captain. "We'll put the Spaniardbetween us and the American. We must board her! That'll stop theirfiring. Give it to her!"

  There was something like good seamanship in his proposition if he couldhave carried it out, but Sam Prentice was at the helm of the _Noank_,and he instantly detected the intended manoeuvre.

  "Sam!" shouted Captain Avery, as his schooner began to change hercourse. "Port your helm! Keep her well away! Carry her out o' range!Don't let 'em knock a splinter out of us!"

  "All right, Lyme," responded Sam. "But let's rake 'em. They're losin'steerage way with all that wreckage draggin'. The redskin has hulled'em ag'in. Let's cross their bows."

  "Go ahead! I'm agreed!" called back the captain. "Not too near,though."

  His careful keeping away was to have an important consequence that hedid not think of. All was confusion on board the _Leon_, after thosebroadsides came. Her crew were frantically striving to cut loose thetowing wreckage and bring their craft once more to the wind, while, asfast as Up-na-tan and his fellow-gunners could load and fire, thedestruction was increasing.

  "What's that?" screeched the pirate captain, in reply to one of hiscrew. "We are sinking, are we? Boats! To the boats! They shallnever take us alive. Boats, and board the Spaniard!"

  Capture meant only death without mercy, as all of them knew, and someof the cooler miscreants had already begun to get ready the boats. Ofthese there were four, and the largest of them had been hanging at thedavits, ready for lowering.

  "Sam," said Captain Avery, soberly, "not one of those fellows must gitaway. Mercy to them is cruelty to everybody else. If I spare apirate, I'll feel as if I was murderin' the next man or woman he puts aknife into."

  "That's about the way I feel," said Sam; "but I ain't an executioner."

  The Spaniards themselves had been doing something with the guns of the_Santa Teresa_, such as they were, old-fashioned, clumsily mounted,short-range, light pieces. Only a few of her
crew and none of herpassengers had been killed or wounded. There had been no report ofthem made in the general excitement and despondency.

  It was almost too soon for any enthusiastic rejoicing, for hardly anyone felt sure of deliverance. It was almost as if the wonderful Yankeeprivateer had fallen from the skies. She and her operations werecalling forth tremendous admiration, however, and there was plenty ofgenuine piety in the fervent thanksgivings that were uttered.

  "Stop firing!" commanded Captain Avery, less than a quarter of an hourlater. "That black flag feller is careenin'! She's fillin'! Ideclare, she must ha' been a mere shell. The _Noank's_ timbers'd ha'stood a heavier poundin' than that."

  "It was pretty heavy pounding, Lyme," replied Sam Prentice. "Ourtimbers are good, but we don't care to be struck at short range. Notby heavy shot, anyhow. You see, that redskin jest plugged her everytime. Some of his hits must ha' gone clean through."

  "Used her up, anyhow," said the captain.

  "Guert," said Up-na-tan to his pupil in the science of gunnery, "good!Boy aim twice. No miss. Boy make good gunner some day."

  It was just so. The Manhattan had indulgently promised Guert to dosome actual battle practice, and had made him as proud as a peacock.It was true that he had fired under close supervision and direction,but it had been a valuable teaching, and Guert almost believed that hecould have done it all alone--with the right kind of men to handle thepivot-gun for him.

  "Boy good eye," said Up-na-tan. "Hold hand steady. Hit mark. Ugh!"

  Over, over, over, rapidly leaned the shattered hull of the _Leon_, thewater pouring into her through the gaps in her starboard side. Downfrom her had dropped boat after boat, to be crowded with her survivingwolves, no effort being made by them to save any of their woundedcompanions. She had now drifted into pretty close neighborhood withthe _Santa Teresa_, and a wild shout went up as the boats pulled away.

  "Board the Spaniard!" cried her captain.

  It was the last resource of utter desperation, and they might even nowhave succeeded in gaining possession of the _Santa Teresa_ if she hadbeen unassisted.

  "Stand by your guns, men!" shouted Captain Velasquez. "Let them haveit as they come!"

  "Steady about," said Captain Avery to the steersman of the _Noank_, "wemust take care o' those boats. Oh! how I wish we were nearer! Give itto 'em!"

  "Ay, ay, sir!" came back from his gunners, "but the Spaniard's in theway. As soon as we clear her--"

  "Down with the mainsail! Haul on that jib! Port! Here we come!"

  It was not round shot this time. The long sixes had been glutted withgrape-shot, and so had the pivot-gun. The Spanish cannon, hastilyfired by excited men, had done some execution, but not one of thebuccaneer boats had been disabled. The foremost of them was within tenfathoms of the _Santa Teresa_, and the swarm of murderers would havebeen over her bulwarks in another minute, when past her port quarterswept the Yankee privateer.

  Bang, bang, bang, as fast as they were brought to bear, spoke out herthree guns of that broadside, and Up-na-tan's eighteen-pounder. Thenshe seemed to come about like a top, somewhat increasing her distance.Three more successive reports, and then where were the picaroons?Muskets and pistols were hurling lead among them from the deck of theSpanish trader. A shot from one of her guns had knocked out the sternof the largest boat. All that, however, had been of small accountcompared to the effect of that tempest of grapeshot. The boat crewswithered away before it, and two of the boats themselves were upset inthe panic that followed, while the fourth was evidently sinking. Blackheads dotted the water, and a shriek from one of them brought a sharp,quick exclamation from Coco.

  "Shark! Shark!" he yelled. "See back fin! Twenty of 'em! See 'em!Shark take 'em all!"

  "Father," exclaimed Vine Avery, "that's awful! Can't we save some ofthem?"

  "Too late!" said the captain. "Not a man, I'm afraid. Jest look howthey're goin' down! It's a reg'lar school o' sharks. They're bitin'fast. We'll go about, though, and we'll pick up any that are left."

  The Spaniards continued firing while their American friends sped on andcame back on the other tack. Every boat had now been upset orshattered and the sharks were having their own way with the picaroons.

  "Here comes one of 'em, Captain Avery," said Guert. "I'll try and savehim!"

  "Throw him a rope," said the captain; and Guert quickly had the help ofVine and another sailor.

  "Quick!" said Guert. "Don't let the sharks get him. I'd give anythingto save a man from them!"

  "He's caught the rope," replied Vine. "Haul him in! We've got him."

  Close behind him, or rather under him, as he came dripping over therail, was a huge pair of snapping jaws that barely missed him. Hefell, at first, and then his rescuers themselves were astonished. Hedid not say a word to them, but dropped at once upon his knees, andbegan to pour out thanks to the Virgin Mary, like a good Catholic.

  A NARROW ESCAPE. "As he came over the rail, a huge pairof jaws barely missed him.]

  "Let him," said Sam Prentice. "Some o' these cutthroats are awfulpious."

  "Yes," said Guert, "but he is praying in Dutch, and he mixes it up withEnglish. I can't tell what he is."

  "There she goes!" shouted a dozen voices at that moment, and all turnedto look.

  It was only a last lurch and a plunge, and all that was left of thepirate _Leon_ sank forever out of sight. The heads of her crew hadalso disappeared from the surface of the water, and the career of oneof the terrors of the sea was ended.