by Perry Comer
“Mister Dewitt we will continue on this course and then tack inshore once you are satisfied that we are beyond the reef. I've a few matters requiring my attention below.”
“Aye, Captain,” Dewitt replied.
The logs, and quills were on the table where Honest had placed them knowing Donland would be coming below.
Jones, the pursuer was waiting. He wore his usual garb befitting a dandy. Donland never understood the man's need to appear so. “What have you to report Mister Jones?”
“We've consumed one barrel of water, half-barrel of salt pork and half cask of rum,” Jones informed Donland.
“I take it the men are still feasting from what they gathered from their time ashore,” Donland mused.
“Aye, Sir, fish, crabs, and vermin. They brought aboard what they found growing.” Jones paused smiled and added, “perhaps some fruits to be fermented.”
“To be expected, Mister Ashcroft, the Bo'sum and the young gentlemen will have to be on their guard and deal with the malefactors,” Donland said.
The door was open and Ashcroft knocked at the jam.
“Thank you Mister Jones, I shall enter the details into my log,” Donland said.
“I will return to my duties,” Jones said.
“Mister Ashcroft you have your report?”
“Such as it is,” Ashcroft said. “Three barrels of power and four nine-pound shot. The remainder of shot and power tally.”
“What of cordage and sail?” Donland asked.
“Unchanged,” Ashcroft answered.
“Anything for the discipline book?”
“No charges or actions,” Ashcroft answered.
Donland nodded and scribbled a few lines in the log. “Is there another matter?” Donland asked.
“A delicate matter, one I hesitate to bring to your attention. Were Mister Jackson here it would be his decision to bring it to you. Forgive me for doing so but it is a matter I fear will fester with time. It concerns Porter, the company feels he was wronged,” Ashcroft stated.
Donland placed the quill in the inkwell and looked directly into Ashcroft's eyes. The ship seemed unusually quiet. He could hear the faint sound of Hornet's hull slicing through the waves. He'd not given Porter a thought since the punishment. The man was responsible for the rum and for those tasked with guarding it. He had failed, allowed the men to drink their fill. No, the punishment fit his failure to do his duty, that in his mind, was the end of it. But, there were those listening, the marine sentry at the open door, those hovering above and the idlers in their hammocks. He decided to stand, allow himself to choose his words.
“Duty, Mister Ashcroft, is what binds a company together as much as loyalty, do you agree?”
Ashcroft's face reflected his confusion at Donland's tack; he managed a weak, “Aye.”
Donland came around the table and picked up his hat. He said to Honest who was behind the curtain, “Clear away the table if you please Honest, I've finished here,”
“Aye Captain,” Honest replied and pushed aside the curtain.
Donland placed a hand on his redheaded junior officer’s shoulder, “Duty and loyalty, every man is responsible to his mate. When one fails in duty, it is a failure of loyalty. Any man of the company, be he officer or ordinary, who willingly succumbs to drink while facing an enemy fails in duty and loyalty. There are and must be repercussions for willfully failing to do one's duty, and such must be severe enough to deter future failures. I'll say no more to the matter.”
* * * * *
Ashcroft had a telescope to his eye, “Fajardo off the port bow Mister Dewitt. I make it about three miles,” he said.
Donland heard Ashcroft just as his head cleared the hatchway. The helmsman gave the warning in a whisper, “Captain!”
Donland heard and ignored the warning; he had given and received the warning thousands of times as his captain came on deck.
“Mister Ashcroft, we will tack to larboard and reduce sail,” Donland said as he took up a glass.
“Mister Welles, a signal if you please to Stinger. 'Begin patrol',” Donland said to the youngster.
“Aye Captain,” Welles answered.
“What of the chart Mister Dewitt?” Donland asked.
“Reefs and cays, We best not venture further than a mile from shore,” Dewitt answered.
“Very well Mister Dewitt,” Donland said.
“Mister Ashcroft, leadsmen in the chains if you please once the tack is completed,” Donland ordered.
“Aye, Captain,” Ashcroft replied and began calling orders.
Donland lifted the glass to his eye. The shore was still too distant to make out anything more than trees and surf. What he could see, indicated that the terrain was a thick jungle. Perhaps, if they were fortunate they would find a trail leading west. If not, it would be a long, hot and difficult trek to Luquillo. He had calculated the distance to be just under ten miles and would take the better part of three hours if a trail were found, if not then it could take double that.
He lowered the glass and turned to find Stinger. She was under light sail about two miles distant. “Mister Welles maintain a watch on Stinger. Call out any signals at once.”
“Aye, Captain,” David answered.
Aldridge rang the bell.
“Noon sighting Captain?” Dewitt asked.
“Aye,” Donland answered.
Honest appeared carrying the sexton. Donland replaced the telescope in the rack. “Mister Aldridge the log if you please,” Donland called as he lifted the sexton to his eye.
“Eighteen, twelve, zero north!” Dewitt called.
“Aye!” Donland answered.
“Sixty-six, thirty-nine, five west!”
“Aye,” Donland said. “Enter it, Mister Aldridge!”
Donland pulled the telescope from the rack.
“By the mark six!” the leadsman called.
The call startled Donland. “Mister Dewitt, does it shoal ahead?”
“Deepwater ahead sir,” Dewitt assured Donland.
“By the mark six and a quarter!” the leadsman called.
“Beg pardon Captain,” Welles called. “Stinger is going about!”
“Aye, and she should, shoals ahead of her,” Dewitt said.
Donland glanced skyward. The sky was all but empty of cloud. He put the glass to his eye; the tree line was unbroken for as far as he could see except for a small cove. Beyond it, was a slight rise. He strained to see any trace of smoke to indicate inhabitants. The land seemed flat. It would do.
“Mister Ashcroft we will go about and rejoin Stinger,” Donland called.
Chapter Ten
Stinger and Hornet tacked east until six bells in the afternoon watch then turned back west. The wind remained favorable and they arrived back on station off of Fajardo at five bells. Donland went below and dressed in tattered britches and only a shirt. He borrowed a straw hat and sandals from a seaman. He had not shaved that day knowing the stubble would add to his disguise. At seven bells, he ordered the gig lowered.
Donland climbed upon the railing and descended to the gig. David and Porter followed. “Give way,” Donland commanded and the boat's crew began to pull. It was then that Donland caught sight of Honest, beside him was his son. Donland said nothing.
The sun was an hour from setting as the boat lurched through the surf. Enough time and enough light to find any track or trail leading into the jungle.
“Have you the flags?” Donland asked Porter as they waded the surf.
“Aye Captain, six flags, ragged they be but they'll be seen,” Porter answered.
“There will be no talking, follow me and stay close,” Donland said as he started up the beach.
They walked along the tree line until they came upon an old fishing boat. Donland discovered a trail into the thick growth. The track seemed old and little used. The mosquitoes swarmed and there was no breeze. His clothes were soon soaked through with sweat. Behind him, was the constant slapping of the pests and soft cur
ses.
The trail led to an old decaying hut. There was no evidence that anyone had been in it in some time. The light was dim and fading as they found yet another track leading deeper into the jungle. Without the sun and without stars, they had little choice but to follow the track. The jungle was alive with the sounds of insects and distant birds. It wasn’t long until the water bottles they carried were near empty. It became too dark to go on. “We'll rest here until morning,” Donland said in the darkness.
“Porter n you and Honest use your swords to clear us space to sleep. Mister Welles you and Simon find us some firewood but do not leave the trail,” Donland ordered.
Porter and Honest set to work hacking out a small clearing. The boys returned dragging a large dead limb.
“That will do, well-done lads,” Donland said. He then began breaking of the limb and piling the pieces.
“I've flint,” Honest said and pulled the plug from the handle of his knife. He then tore a small strip from his shirt and gathered some dry leaves. It took several strikes of the knife on the flint before a spark ignited the leaves and cloth. The fire caught filling the clearing with light and smoke.
“That'll help keep the vermin off us a bit,” Porter said.
“Aye,” Honest agreed and added. “I'll find us some more wood, going to be a long night.” He drew a brand from the fire to use as a torch.
Porter slapped at a buzzing insect. “Satan himself must have contrived this torment!”
“All was made by God, so Genesis tells us,” Donland said.
“Aye, but the Devil must've whispered in his ear. I fail to understand the purpose of such pests,” Porter replied.
Donland prodded the fire to encourage more smoke. He came to a decision about Porter. “Many things will never be understood but some things are only a matter of reasoning. Take your four lashes, you hold bitterness for my actions, but if you consider the necessity of it you would accept the why of it. When the balls are flying and the enemy grapples, you follow the one you can trust to do his duty and not the one who has neglected duty. The men who look to me in the midst of the battle must know that I will not shirk my duty and if I should fall they will look to another who has not shirked his duty. A man may not want to do a thing but if it is his duty to do it, he will do it. The tasks vary but duty remains. So, a man who fails in a small thing cannot be trusted with something larger. Do you agree?”
Grudgingly Porter answered, “Aye!”
“The flogging served two purposes, one to punish for failing to do your duty and two, that the company would know that I would do mine. You may agree or disagree but that is the truth of the matter.”
“What you say is so but my station did not warrant harsh punishment. There were other means . . .”
Donland cut him off, “Your station is still that of the lower deck, think not more of yourself than is earned. As to other means, you and those with you knew the penalty; the punishment was applied equally and with mercy. You know this to be a fact, it could have been far more severe.”
Porter said nothing.
Donland sighed then said, “Do your duty and more so if need be that no man may find fault with you.”
He was aware the two young midshipmen were listening. “Duty and loyalty are all we have whether the sun shines and the winds are fair or a gale blows so hard the sticks are ripped out. It is for you to decide, duty and loyalty or a moment's pleasure and punishment.”
Porter did not reply.
“If we succeed in this venture and those vessels are liberated there will be opportunity. Duty and loyalty have their rewards. Think on that, I've no more to say,” Donland rose and Honest entered the clearing bearing an armful of wood.
Donland assigned each a watch including Simon. He chose to have the last. Simon was to have the first and gave him his watch. When his watch was ended he was to pass it to David. Each man settled down as near the fire as possible in hopes of keeping away the mosquitoes. The night passed slowly and without incident.
The sun began peeking through the branches, Donland stood and stretched. The two boys lay side by side while Porter snored. “Wake them and we will have the water and a biscuit,” Donland instructed Honest who was already awake.
The boys rose and stretched their hands toward the fire. The night had been cool. “We need to be away so do not dawdle,” Honest said to the boys.
Honest began kicking sand onto the fire.
They walked for an hour along the meandering track. Once crossing a small stream, the water was unfit for drinking but they washed away the sweat and the smoke. Another hour and they came to a road wide enough for a cart and it soon forked. Glimpsing the sun, Donland chose the left fork. He was pleased that they came upon a clearing containing four huts. The men who stood outside were dark and did not speak. Dark-haired and dark-eyed children stared from the doorways as they passed. No one spoke.
A mile from the huts, the road became wider. “Seems well traveled,” Honest remarked.
“Would seem so,” Donald said. “I would say we are not far from a village or town of some sort.”
Donland glimpsed a swamp or shallow lake on their right. The smell of it was pungent but occasionally the smell was replaced with the salty smell of ocean. He felt they were nearing their destination. “It's time for us to separate, Honest you and Simon go on ahead. Mister Welles and I will follow, and Porter you wait until we are well out of sight. Watch for anyone following.”
“Aye Captain,” Porter replied.
“Honest when you come upon a spot where you can go down to the beach, wait there and we shall all go down together.”
“Aye,” Honest said and put his hand on Simon's shoulder. “We'll be off.”
Donland watched until they disappeared around the bend. He turned to David and appraised his appearance. “Take off your shoes,” he instructed.
David's face twisted in curiosity. He was about to ask why but decided against it. He sat and removed his shoes.
“Stockings also, it'll not do in such a poor place for a boy of your age to be seen wearing shoes. Put them in your shirt for now.”
“Aye Sir,” David said with a grin.
“Call me Isaac, when I tell you something or ask you something, respond with yes or no. These people will be wary of strangers and we'd not want any to report us to the pirates. Until we rejoin the company you are just a lad without family,” Donland said and added, “Do not forget, our lives may well depend on it.”
“Aye,” David said then caught himself. “It will be hard for I'm accustomed to the other.” He then tried it out, “Yes Isaac!”
They came upon Honest a half-mile further along the road. “There's a track here leading down to the beach. It's no mor'n a chain. To the west, is the village. I sent Simon down to the water to wade and observe.”
Donland nodded and removed his straw hat and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I'd wade out to my neck were I him,” Donland said.
“Aye, and I will when I get to it,” Honest said and grinned.
Donland smiled, “We best be at our task. David, give Honest your shoes, they can go in his bag. I want you to go down to Simon and the pair of you be two lads larking about on the beach. Make your way to the village, keep a sharp eye out for any of our company. Honest and I will be following.”
“Yes, Isaac,” David answered and smiled broadly.
Donland sighed as he watched the boy disappear into the brush. He turned to Honest; “They'll not suspect two lads and be safer without us. David has a fisherman's knife.”
“As does Simon,” Honest grinned.
“Devil best be wary,” Donland said and laughed.
Donland and Honest continued along the beach following the boys. They came upon small fishing boats; most were overturned as the fishermen fished early in the morning. No one spoke to them as they walked. Donland made mental notes of the anchored vessels. He counted eight, the largest were Atross and the ketch recently christened by Ja
ckson as Folly.
David and Simon meandered along the beach then turned abruptly toward the village and sat in the shade of a stand of palms.
“Waiting instructions,” Honest said.
“Aye, smart lads,” Donland replied.
The village sprawled along the beach. The buildings were small, a few were stone but most were wooden. The roofs were either thatched or shake. The village appeared to be a tangle of alleys without any apparent main streets.
“New village,” Donland remarked. “No church yet.”
“No authority either,” Honest mused.
“Pirate law,” Donland stated.
They angled up the beach and between two huts. The alley between the buildings was just wide enough for them to walk abreast with touching each other or the buildings. They encountered chickens roaming free and here and there a pig was tied. One dog snarled and barked as they passed.
“There,” Donland said and pointed to a path that would bring them back to the beach just short of the palms. David and Simon lay in the shade. The two men did not approach the boys but chose to lean against a palm nearest the boys. Honest sat facing the village.
Donland said loud enough for Honest and the boys to hear. “Deduced hot, I'll linger here a bit.”
Honest said, “Aye, wake me.”
A boat well up the beach put into the surf. Donland counted six men climb in and put out oars. He watched as the boat fought the breakers and gained the swells. The boat made for Atross. He reasoned they were pirates.
Squatting, he said to Honest, “Boat pulled across to Atross. I wonder if they are expecting Dolphin to return soon?”
Honest did not move and remained as if he were sleeping. “If she was due, them scum will be at each other like dogs three dogs with one bone.”
“Aye,” Donland said.
The boys moved closed, pretending to be looking for something in the sand. Donland spoke softly, “Boys go to the water and up the beach to where that boat put out. See if any of our company is about and then return here.”