Arthur Brown, The Young Captain

by Elijah Kellogg

  CHAPTER XI.

  RECONNOITRING.

  IT was an overcast night; there was no moon; the stars were brightoverhead, but around the edge of the horizon they were obscured by thinclouds, through which a star occasionally shone.

  The brigantine, with all sail set, was running in for the land, thedark outline of which could be dimly seen in the distance. The Frenchhad put out the light on Planier Island, and removed all the buoys fromthe shoals and reefs, that they might not be of advantage to the enemy;but the lights of the English frigate could be seen far ahead, as shealso stood in for the land, her commander not dreaming he was followedby the vessel, so nearly his prize, and which he supposed effectuallyfrightened from that locality.

  “It would have been a very valuable prize to us, could we have takenher,” said the captain of the frigate to his lieutenant; (”and at onetime I thought she was ours,) not merely as far as the value of hercargo was concerned; but we could have put a few guns aboard of her,and a crew, and she is so fast she would have taken everything on thecoast; our prize-money would soon have amounted to something veryhandsome.”

  “Where did the Yankees learn to build such vessels? Before the war theycouldn’t make their own mouse-traps.”

  “It was the war taught them; they wanted privateers to prey on ourmerchantmen and supply ships. They wanted sharp vessels to run intoneutral ports, and escape our frigates, and they built them. Since theyset up for themselves, they make rigging and duck, roll iron, and forgeanchors, and there’s no telling where they will stop.”

  “We may catch her yet, if we could get her before the wind, where shecould not run into shoal water, or have the good fortune to come acrossher in a calm.”

  “He’ll not come here again; he’s run too great a risk. He will be morelikely to try Toulon; perhaps go round into the Bay of Biscay, to someof the ports on the other side.”

  The wind, which had blown very fresh all through the afternoon andfirst part of the night, had moderated to a good working breeze.

  As the watch on board the brigantine that brought twelve o’clock cameon deck, a large rock was discovered right ahead; the topsail was hoveto the mast, and the vessel became stationary. The captain, calling thewhole crew aft, said to them, “Boys, I want to put a man on that rock,to watch this frigate and the sixty-four, see which way they stand inthe morning, and where they go; also to look into the roadstead, andsee what vessels are there, and how they lie; in short, to keep himselfconcealed, and get all the information he can. To-morrow night I’ll runin, and take him off. Who’ll volunteer?”

  Before the words were fairly out of his mouth, or any other couldreply, Walter Griffin exclaimed, “I will go, sir.”

  Peterson had from Walter’s childhood cherished a great affection forhim, and Walter loved the black with all his heart. It was at firsta childhood liking (as children care very little about color), whichincreased as he grew older; and Peterson, by reforming his habits,became deserving of respect.

  Peterson was not merely a finished sailor and first-rate calker, butwas also exceedingly ingenious in making kites, windmills, boats,sleds, carts, squirts, popguns, sawyers, and all those things thatchildren and boys want; and no one but Uncle Isaac could equal him inthe manufacture of bows and arrows.

  Peterson lived not far from Walter’s father. Every leisure day Walterwas there; everything he wanted Peterson made, and, as he outgrewkites and bows, instructed him in wrestling, making sailor knots, andbuilt him a skiff; when, therefore, he came to be shipmate with him,he felt that the boy was in a manner committed to him, and under hisprotection, and instantly interfered.

  “Massa cap’n, dat boy no fit to go; he too young; s’pose come galeob wind; vessel driben to sea; no get him off long time; boy befrightened, die, p’rhaps starve. Hab to show hisself; den Englishman-o’-war take him; nebber see his farder or mudder no more. Boy no‘sperience to know what to look for; me go, meself.”

  Walter, however, insisted upon going; he had a right to go; the captaincalled for volunteers, and he had volunteered, and was going.

  “But you too young, chile, for such ting.”

  “_Young_,” replied Walter, in high dudgeon; “I shipped before the mast,and have a man’s wages, and can steer my trick, and do my duty.”

  “I can’t do without _you_, pilot,” said the captain.

  Several others had also intended to volunteer, and now came forward;but Walter had been too quick for them, and claimed his right.

  “Captain,” said Fred Williams, as he took leave of Arthur Brown,“you’ll find one of our young men aboard, Walter Griffin (he’s notmuch more than a boy, but he’s a choice one); I know him through andthrough. He never should have left me if I could have helped it; but heseems one of those made to go to sea. Put him anywhere, trust him withany matter, and he will give a good account of himself. You will findhim better, on an emergency, than many older persons; for he belongs toan iron-sided race, and what he lacks in experience he will make up inmother wit.”

  All that the captain had seen of Walter went to corroborate Fred’sstatement, and he determined to try him.

  Little Ned now besought the captain to permit him to share theadventure with Walter, but he refused, telling him he had promised hismother not to expose him unnecessarily; that one was enough, and twowould be more likely to attract attention.

  Ned turned away, with a tear in his eye, and walked forward. Flinginghis arms round his friend’s neck, he said, “He won’t let me go, Walter.It’s too bad; we might have such a good time!”

  The boat was manned, and beef, bread, water, and raw pork put into her.The raw pork was in addition, as that could, on occasion, be eaten raw;and if the vessel should be blown off the coast, he might be left therea good while, and no fire could be made to cook, without attractingnotice.

  The captain, after giving him his instructions, put into his handsa spy-glass. “There,” said he, “is a glass with which you can readletters three inches long a mile away.” He then shook hands with him atthe side, bidding him take care of himself, and keep a bright lookout,while the tender-hearted black fairly shed tears.

  “Look out for de man-o’-war, sonnie. S’pose he ketch you, Petersonchase you all ober de world but he git you.”

  “Good by, dear Walter,” cried Ned, throwing his arms around hisfriend’s neck, as he stood up in the stern sheets to step on the rock.

  “Good by, Ned,” said Walter, returning the embrace.

  The provision and water were landed, and the boat pulled rapidly away.Walter sat down upon the rock, listening to the sound of the oars inthe rowlocks, and watching the phosphorescence of the water as itflashed on their blades. All these tokens of departure, of littlemoment on ordinary occasions, now possessed not a little interest. Hemarked the ring of the iron, as the hook of the davit-fall went intothe ring-bolt, and heard the man say, “Hoist away,” the creak of theblocks, and the slat of the canvas, as the sails filled, then thelow, rushing sound of the vessel’s bow as it parted the water. It wasa lonely moment to the brave boy, when the last low sound betokeningcompanionship was lost in the dash of midnight waves, the gleam of herwhite canvas faded from his view, and he was left on the wild rockalone. He had never been taught to breathe a petition for protection,or to depend upon aught but himself. His conversation with Charlie bythe brook constituted the only appeal of a religious nature ever madeto his heart.

  He knew not the nature or extent of the rock on which he had been sounceremoniously deposited, and, clambering up to where he was abovethe flow of the tide, placed his provisions beside him, and determinedto keep watch till the day broke, that he might have time to examinethe place before he could be observed from any passing boat or vessel.Fearing, if he went to sleep, he might sleep too long, and finding aflat place on the rock, he paced back and forth, to keep himself awake.

  Little Ned, feeling very lonely in the absence of his watch-mate,attached himself to Peterson, between whom and Walter there was sucha good understanding, i
n order that he might talk about Walter,Pleasant Cove, the Griffins, and all the people and boys he had becomeacquainted with there.

  The rock on which Walter was placed might have been, at low water,half an acre in extent, and irregular in its form, the eastern endrising in a high bluff, with deep water around and close to it; butthe western end sloped into long, ragged ridges, honeycombed by theeverlasting dash of surf, and terminating in long reefs, upon which thesea broke with a continuous roar. Between these ridges were openingsor coves, quite wide at the extremities of the reefs, shoaling andnarrowing as they ran up into the main portion of the rock, in such amanner that it was easy to enter them in a boat between the breakingpoints, and land, in good weather, with perfect safety.

  The heads of these coves were filled with those materials the seausually flings up—sea-weeds, shells, barrel staves, chips, planks, andbroken pieces of vessels.

  On the eastern end of the rock was a patch of turf extending from theedge of the bold cliffs along the heads of the coves, covered withbushes and scrub trees, dwarfed by the sea winds, and thickly mattedtogether.

  The sun had risen clear, bringing with it a moderate easterly breeze.The English frigate before referred to is passing within musket shot ofthe eastern extremity of the rock. A close observer might have noticedthe branches of a pine bush move in a direction opposite to the wind,and in a few moments the head of a man is cautiously thrust through thebranches. It is Walter Griffin. He watches with keen eyes the course ofthe man-o’-war, and, as she increases the distance between them, crawlsto the shelter of a ledge, and, resting his glass over it, watches hertill she disappears from view. From his position he can command a viewof the roadstead, the men-of-war lying at anchor in it, the forts, andthe entrance to the port.

  At the head of one of the coves, in which there was a little beachof white sand, a portion of the stern frame of a vessel had, by theconjunction of a high tide and a gale of wind, been flung high on therocks, extending from one side to the other, leaving a space of severalfeet between it and the beach. Here Walter had bestowed his water andfood.

  Having made all the observation possible, he retired to this place,and, with some dry sea-weed for a bed, lay down for a nap, as he hadbeen up the entire night.

  When he awoke, he espied a French fisherman, fishing among the kelp forrock-fish. Looking cautiously around, to be sure that no vessel was insight, he, after a while, succeeded in attracting his attention, andprevailing upon him to row into one of the passages between the rocks,where he met him.

  “Who are you?” asked the fisherman, resting upon his oars, andsurprised to be addressed in his own language by one who, he perceived,was of another nation.

  “An American.”

  “Have you run away from the man-o’-war?” asked the Frenchman, takinghim for some impressed American seaman, who had swum off from a Britishvessel.

  “No; I was put ashore here last night from an American vessel, that istrying to run the blockade, to watch the fleet; she will stand in forthe land again to-night.”

  “The vessel they were chasing yesterday?”

  “Yes.”

  “We thought you were gone.”

  “We thought so ourselves, till the wind came.”

  “Men sometimes swim ashore from the fleet. I thought you had swam tothe rock. I’ve got an Englishman in my house now who ran away a weekago.”

  “Why don’t they take you prisoner?”

  “They don’t trouble the fishermen, and when they want fish, they payfor them; but our vessels and the Spaniards take ‘em without thanks ormoney.”

  “What time in the day is it?”

  “By the tide, about eleven o’clock.”

  “Could you take me ashore in your boat, so that I could have a goodlook at the fleet and harbor, and see the Englishman you spoke of, andbring me back after dark?”

  “I can take you ashore well enough, but bringing you back is anothermatter; the English have boats rowing around the roadstead in thenight; if they saw me going out after dark, they would suspectsomething, and stop me.”

  “I would give a good deal to get inside the roadstead, and to see thatdeserter.”

  “I’ll do all I can to help you. I’ll take you along shore to one of thecreeks where there is no watch kept, and set you off from there.”

  The Frenchman made Walter lie down in the bottom of the boat, coveredhim with sea-weed, and flung fish over him; he then put up his sail,and steered boldly into the roadstead. As he passed one of the Englishships, he was hailed and asked for a mess of fish; he went alongside,and flung the fish on the grating of the side ladder, and receiving hismoney, kept on.

  “If they had known who was under these fish,” said the fisherman toWalter, pulling the sea-weed off from him, as they came under the gunsof the French castle, “it would have put an end to my fishing.”

  He now conducted Walter to the observatory, situated on very highground, in which was a powerful telescope, and from which he couldtrack the frigate and sloop of war as they ran along the coast, andsee perfectly the position of the ships in the roadstead. He found theflag-ship lay the farthest in, just out of range of the forts, and somoored as to completely command the channel. Having taken careful noteof all these things, and made a rough draft on paper, he went to thefisherman’s house, where he found the English sailor, who informed himof many particulars that were important, and among other things, that asupply ship was daily expected on the coast and was eagerly looked for,as provisions were growing short in the fleet.

  “What is her name?” asked Walter.

  “The Severn.”

  “Where has that frigate probably gone?”

  “To Toulon.”

  “And the sixty-four?”

  “Round the other side, to carry despatches.”

  “How big is the flag-ship?”

  “A hundred guns.”

  “Do they keep a keen lookout?”

  “Yes; it is no use to try to run by her at night; she wouldn’t leaveyou a stick to do it with.”