Blackbeard: Buccaneer

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

  CHAPTER XIII

  OUR HEROES SEEK SECLUSION

  AN hour before dawn the anchor was aweigh and the _Royal James_ driftedahead like a shadow, in between the outer islands where the fairway waswide and safe. Her gun-ports were open and every man was alertly at hisstation. It was a silent ship excepting when an officer passed an orderalong. Joe Hawkridge began to feel more sanguine of winning againstodds. He had never seen such iron discipline as this in the bedlamaboard the _Revenge_. Stede Bonnet knew how to slacken the reins andwhen to apply the curb. His men were loyal because he dealt out justiceas well as severity.

  "The captain says we must go below when the action commences, Joe,"dismally observed Jack Cockrell.

  "It goes against the grain but we will not dispute him," was the sagereply. "We needn't be idle. You can lend a hand with the powder or passthe water buckets to douse the fire if she gets ablaze. And there's thewounded to carry into the cockpit and the blood to mop up, and----"

  "Enough o' that," cried Jack, getting pale about the gills. "You take itlike a butcher!"

  "What else is it, you big moon-calf? Set me safe ashore in that CharlesTown of yours, and I hope ne'er to see another weapon barring a spoonand a knife to cut my vittles."

  "There is sense in that," agreed young Master Cockrell.

  Smartly handled, the brig crept in as far as she dared go without morelight by which to avoid the shallower water. The anchor was dropped to ashort cable and buoyed ready to slip. It was estimated that the distancefrom Blackbeard's ship was somewhat more than a mile. The stars fadedand the cloudless sky began to take on a roseate hue. The light breezewhich had breathed like a cool zephyr through the night was dying inlanguid catspaws. Gradually the dark outline of coastal swamp and forestwas uncurtained. And eager eyes were able to discern the yellow sparsand blurred hull of the _Revenge_ against the gloomy background.

  Stede Bonnet's brig was, of course, pricked out much more sharply withthe seaward horizon behind her. To her crew, in this hushed morning,there came a prolonged, shrill note that was like the call of a bird. Ittrilled with a silvery sweetness and was repeated over and over again.

  "A bos'n's pipe," said Captain Bonnet, a hand cupped at his ear."Blackbeard has sighted us and is mustering his crew."

  So faint was the breeze that the command was given to man two boats andtake a hawser from the brig to tow her through the inner channel. Beforethey were in motion, however, the pearly mist began to roll out of theCherokee swamp as if a great cauldron were steaming. The weather favoredit, heat in the air and little wind. The mist seemed also to rise fromthe water, hanging low but as thick as a summer fog. It shrouded thecoast and Blackbeard's ship and crept out across the harbor until thebrig was enveloped in it.

  "'Twas like this when we swum ashore and found the pirogue, Cap'nBonnet," said Joe Hawkridge. "A curious kind o' white smother from theswamp."

  "And how long did it hang thus?" was the impatient query.

  "When the sun was well up, sir, it seemed to burn away like. It has thesame look as the fever-breedin' vapors of Darien and Yucatan."

  Captain Bonnet called his boats back and was in an ugly humor. There wasno towing the brig through this bothersome fog which obscured every markand left a man bewildered. And instead of surprising Blackbeardunprepared, he would now have time to make his ship ready. However,Stede Bonnet was not a man to wring his hands because a well-laid schemewent wrong. Without delay the crew was assembled in the waist and hespoke to them from the break of the poop.

  "We shall make this weather serve our purpose, lads. Fill the boats,every man to his billet. The mates will see to it that the oars arewell muffled. Silence above all things. Nimbly now."

  There was no need to say more. They fathomed the strategy which wouldenable them to approach Blackbeard's ship unheard and unseen and thenswarm over her side in a ferocious onslaught. Cheerily they took stockof their weapons, drank a health from a tub of stiff grog, and lined upfor Captain Bonnet's inspection. They wore clean clothes, the best theycould find in their bags, as has always been the sailor's habit whengoing into action. The ship was left in charge of the navigator with afew men who were the least stalwart or experienced in such desperateadventures as this.

  Stede Bonnet went in command of the largest boat to lead the party andsingle out Blackbeard as his own particular foe. There was a largechance that he might not return and he therefore left instructions forthe disposal of the brig, advising the navigator to take her to CharlesTown and there sue for the king's pardon in behalf of those on board. Heshook hands with Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge, bade them be carefulof their own safety, and with no more ado took his place in the boat.The flotilla stole away from the brig, sunburned, savage men with brightweapons for whom life was like a throw of the dice, and the pearly fogconcealed them when they had passed no more than a cable-length away. Soskilfully was the sound of the oars deadened that you would not haveguessed that boats were moving across the harbor.

  "Blackbeard fights like a tiger but trust Cap'n Bonnet to outwit him,"said Joe Hawkridge, who stood at the brig's rail with Jack at his elbow.

  "It will be mighty hard waiting," was the tense reply. "We shall knowwhen they find the _Revenge_. They are not apt to miss her, with acompass in the captain's boat."

  "Aye, there'll be noise enough. Plaguey queer, eh, Jack, to be a-loafin'with nothing to see, like your head was wrapped in a blanket. They oughtto fetch alongside Blackbeard in a half-hour. Go turn the sand-glass inthe cabin."

  They fidgeted about in aimless fashion and fell into talk with thenavigator, or artist, as he was called, a middle-aged man who had been amaster mariner in the slave trade. He told them a yarn or two of theGuinea coast but he, too, was restless and left them to stump up anddown the deck and peer toward the shore. Jack dodged into the cabin towatch the sand trickle into the bottom of the glass. Never was ahalf-hour so long in passing.

  A yell from Joe Hawkridge recalled him to the deck. He listened butheard no distant pistol shots or the hoarse uproar of men in mortalcombat. Joe raised a warning hand and told him to stand still. Therecame a faint splash. It might have been a fish leaping but Joe insistedthat it was made by a careless oar. Jack heard it again and then fanciedhe caught the softened beat of muffled oars close at hand.

  "They lost the course. The fog confused 'em," said he, in great disgust.

  "But why come back to the ship?" demanded Joe. "They could lay and waitfor the fog to lift a little. And I told Cap'n Bonnet to bear to thenorth'ard if in doubt and find the shore of the swamp. Then he couldcoast back to the beach and so strike the _Revenge_."

  "Well, here they come, Joe, and there is sure to be a good reason.Mayhap the fog cleared to landward and they intend to tow the brig in,after all."

  Just then the foremost boat became visible and behind it was the vagueshape of another. The puzzled lads stared and stared and the hairstiffened on their scalps for sheer horror. These were not the boatsfrom the _Royal James_. They were filled with Blackbeard's own piratesfrom the _Revenge_!

  The explanation was simple enough. Joe Hawkridge read it at a glance.Blackbeard was not the drunken chuckle-head that Stede Bonnet hadassumed him to be. He, too, had taken advantage of the fog to attempt tocarry the enemy by stealth. The wit of the one had been matched by theother. And the two flotillas had gone wide enough in passing to escapemutual discovery. In a way it was a pirates' comedy but there were twospectators who foresaw a personal tragedy. They fled for the cabin andscuttled through a small door in a bulkhead which admitted them to thedark hold of the ship.

  It was their purpose to hide in the remotest nook that could be found.Falling over odds and ends of cargo they burrowed like rats and stowedthemselves behind a tier of mahogany logs which had been taken out ofsome prize or other. They were in the bottom of the ship, upon the roughfloor covering the stone ballast. Then these frightened stowaways foundrespite to confer in tremulous whispers.

  "This is the very dreadfulest fix of all, Joe. I had
a fair look atBlackbeard himself, in the stern of the boat,--red ribbons in hiswhiskers, and his sash stuck full of pistols."

  "That old rip isn't an easy man to mistake, Jack. Now the fat _is_ inthe fire," replied the Hawkridge lad who, for once, appeareddiscouraged. "Cap'n Bonnet is a vast sight happier than us. He gets the_Revenge_ without strikin' a blow."

  "But Blackbeard gets _us_," wailed Master Cockrell. "And I helped tochase him through the swamp after we rammed the pirogue into his wherryand capsized the treasure chest. Do you suppose he knew me just now?"

  "Those little red eyes of his are passing keen. But didn't ye tell me ofsmearing your face with mud that day to fend off the mosquitoes? It mayha' disguised you."

  "A little comfort in that, Joe, but to be found in Stede Bonnet's brigbodes ill enough. Of a truth we be born to trouble as the sparks flyupward ever since we joined the pirates. What is your advice?"

  "To stay hid below and pray God for another shift o' fortune," piouslyanswered Joe. "There is no fear of Blackbeard's rummagin' the hold atpresent. He must decide if he'll fight the _Revenge_ or give her theslip. And whilst him and his men are busied on deck, I can make bold tosearch for stores fit to eat. Cap'n Bonnet allus had a well-found ship.Blast it, Jack, my hearty, stock us up and we could lie tucked in theforepeak for a month o' Sundays."

  "But the rats and the darkness and the stinks, and to be expectingdiscovery," was Jack's dreary comment.

  "It would ha' looked like a parlor to me when I was on that barren cayand sighted Ned Rackham's rogues coming off from the snow," said theother stowaway. He was beginning to recuperate from the shock.

  They were in a mood for no more speech but sat in this rayless cavern ofa hold and strove to hear any sounds which might indicate the course ofevents on deck. There was no hubbub of firearms nor the cries of woundedmen. It was foolish to assume that the dozen seamen who had been left tokeep the ship would attempt resisting Blackbeard's mob of pirates allprimed for slaughter. When quietude seemed to reign all through the shipJoe Hawkridge whispered this opinion:

  "If his fancy was to deal with 'em later, he would pitch the lot downhere in the hold. Failing that, Jack, he has offered 'em the chance toenlist. Being so few, they can't plot mischief, and he has lost thehands he left aboard the _Revenge_."

  "But I thought all this crew was true as steel to Stede Bonnet, Joe."

  "Many a man'll change his mind to save his life," was the reply. "Andthese lads aren't what you call Cap'n Bonnet's picked men. As for thenavigator, Blackbeard needs him to fill Ned Rackham's berth."

  Soon Joe Hawkridge told Jack to stay where he was. Now was the time toexplore the lower part of the ship. Squeezing his comrade's hand infarewell, Joe crawled aft to make his way to a rough bulkhead whichwalled off a storeroom built next to the cabin. The boys had passedthrough it in their headlong flight below. Here was kept the bulk of theship's provisions. Joe Hawkridge had learned of the storeroom throughhelping the steward hoist out a barrel of pork.

  With his heart in his throat the venturesome lad groped like a blindman, grievously barking his shins and his knuckles, until he bumped intothe timbers of the bulkhead. Inching himself along, he came to the smalldoor which had been cut into the hold to connect with the main hatch. Hehad slipped the iron bar behind him during his flight with JackCockrell. Pulling the door ajar he wormed through into the storeroomwhich was also dark as midnight. His fingers touched what seemed to bea tierce of beef but he had no tools to start the head or the hoops. Inthe same manner he discovered other casks and barrels but they wereutterly useless to him. Here was food enough, he reflected, if a man hadteeth to gnaw through oak staves.

  Now and again he had to cross to the other door which led into the cabinpassageway and press his ear against a plank to make certain againstsurprise. Up and down the dark room he blundered, refusing to admithimself beaten. The first bit of cheer was when his foot struck a roundobject as solid as a round shot and he picked up a small Dutch cheese.This renewed his courage and he ransacked the corners on hands andknees. Blackbeard's treasure chest was not half so precious as a side ofsalted fish which he ran down by scent, saying to himself:

  "With this rancid cheese and the slab o' ancient cod, ye could smell mycourse a league to wind'ard."

  In a crumpled sack he found a few pounds of what seemed to be wheatflour, by the feel and taste of it. Poor stuff as it was, dry anduncooked, he added it to his stock.

  "Rubbishy vittles," he sighed. "They may keep a man alive but he'llchoke to death a-swallowin' of 'em."

  Water was the desperate necessity and it was not to be sought for in thestoreroom. There was rum enough, the place reeked with it, but tothirsty throats it was so much liquid fire. Joe was resolved not toreturn to Jack Cockrell without a few pints of water if recklessenterprise could procure it. Was the cabin still empty? He stood for along time and listened but there was not a sound beyond the door of thepassageway. Taking his courage in both hands he pushed at the door andit creaked open on rusty hinges. Light as a feather he moved one foot infront of the other, halted, advanced another step, and so entered thelarge cabin in which Stede Bonnet had lived with a Spartan simplicity.

  What Joe coveted was the porous jar or water-monkey which hung suspendedin a netting above the table. It was kept filled, he knew, in order tocool the tepid water from the casks. A heavenly sight it was to him tosee the drops sweating on its rounded sides. He snatched it down and wasabout to make a swift retirement, but still spread upon the table henoted the chart of the Carolina and Virginia coasts which he had poredover with Stede Bonnet. This he delayed to roll up and tuck under onearm, not that he expected to employ it himself, but to make cruisingmore difficult for Blackbeard.

  This bit of strategy held him a moment too long. He shot a glance overhis shoulder, alarmed by a tread on the companion ladder. Horrified hebeheld a pair of Spanish boots with scarlet, crinkled morocco tops, andthey encased bandy legs which were strong and thick. What saved themiserable young Hawkridge was that the occupant of these splendid bootspaused half-way down the ladder to shout a profane command or two inthose husky accents so feared by all lawful shipmen.

  Before that sable beard came into his field of vision the lad was infull stride, running like a whippet, chart under one arm, water-jarunder the other. He checked himself to ease the door behind him just asthe truculent captor of the _Royal James_ brig reached the foot of theladder and let his gaze rove about the cabin. Sinking to the floor ofthe storeroom, Joe was afraid that for once he was about to swoon like asilly maid at sight of a mouse. As he had truly said, this pirating wasno trade for a nervous man. Never mind, a miss was as good as a mile.Thankful for the darkness that closed around him, he slung thewater-monkey over his shoulder in its hammock of netted cord, pushed theside of codfish inside his shirt, poked the chart into his boot-leg, putthe cheese in the sack atop the flour, and was freighted for his journeythrough the hold.

  This he accomplished after great difficulty and had to whistle and waitfor a response before he could be sure of Jack Cockrell's whereabouts.

  "What luck, Joe?" was the plaintive question. "I'd sooner starve than beleft alone in this dungeon."

  "Behold the dashing 'prentice-boy with another hairbreadth escape to hiscredit," replied the hero. "Be thankful for your dinner 'causeBlackbeard all but made a mouthful of me."

  "You saw him, Joe?"

  "Up to the middle of him, and that was a-plenty. Don't ask me. I had abad turn."

  "I feel sick, too," said Jack. "The smell of this vile bilge-waterbreeds a nausea, and, whew, 'tis worse than ever."

  "Bilge, my eye! You sniff the banquet I fetched ye. Here's a primecheese that was hatched when Trimble Rogers was a pup."

  Jack offered a feeble apology and felt revived after a pull at thewater-monkey. What they craved most was a spark of light, the glimmer ofa candle to lift this appalling gloom which pressed down like a visibleburden. With nothing to do but discuss the situation from every slantand angle of conjecture, it
was Joe Hawkridge's theory that Stede Bonnetwould not rest content with regaining the _Revenge_ but would come outto attack the brig as soon as the wind favored. His hatred of Blackbeardwas one motive but there was a point of honor even more compelling.

  "He called you his guest, Jack," explained Joe, "and I never did see aman so jealous of his plighted word when once he swore it. He tookobligation to set you safe in Charles Town, d'ye see? And powder smokewon't stop him."

  "Will Blackbeard tarry for a fight, Joe?"

  "Not to my notion. He knows well this brig is no match for the_Revenge_, knows it better than did Cap'n Bonnet, what with all theheavy metal slung aboard from the sloop. And what does Blackbeard gainby having this brig hammered into a cocked hat? Fate tricked himcomically with this swappin' about of ships."

  "And will he linger on this coast? Oh, Joe, if he goes for a longcruise, what in mercy's name becomes of us two?"

  "A long cruise, it looks like, shipmate. In the _Revenge_ he could laughat the small king's men-o'-war commissioned to hunt him down. He wasready to slap alongside any of 'em. Now 'tis different. As another fleain his ear, I stole the only chart of these waters. To the south'ardhe'll turn, and I will bet that rampageous cheese on it."

  "Clear to the Bay of Honduras?" said Jack.

  "As far as that, at a guess. Or he may skirt the Floridas to look forSpanish prizes and put in at the Dry Tortugas which is a famousrendezvous for pirates of the Main. He will be hot to fit himself with abigger ship, by capture or by some knavish trick such as he dealt Cap'nBonnet."