The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution

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

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

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

"Praise God!" gasped the captain of the Santa Teresa. "Oh! Señor Alvarez! I never thought of that. It is one of the new American colonial cruisers. They carry heavy guns. Their men are as brave as lions. All the saints be merciful and help them to shoot straight!"

"Amen!" groaned the señor. "Laura! My dear wife! The Americans are armed! We have some hope!"

Down upon their knees, as if with one accord, dropped all the despairing women and not a few of the men, the children grouping frantically around their mothers. Loud and earnest were the hurried supplications and bitter was the wailing.

Up-na-tan had not the least idea that he or his gunnery were being prayed for, but he sent his next shot as truly as the first. He aimed at her hull, as near amidships as might be. It was no fault of his that a slight roll of the Noank lifted his line of fire so that his flying iron struck the mainmast of the Leon instead of her ribs. The tall spar was shattered and went over the lee rail with all its top hamper, carrying with it several of the pirate crew who were aloft.

That stunning success of the old warrior was greeted with a storm of wild cheering from the crews of the Noank and the Santa Teresa, while more than one woman's voice declared: "Praise God and all the saints! Our prayers are heard!"

The remark of Captain Velasquez was more seamanlike than religious.

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

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

"Give it to 'em!" said Captain Avery to Up-na-tan. "Make every shot tell. 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, even while he was giving his orders, and her six-pounders were worked by very good marine marksmen. The pirates were helpless, and the broadside of the Noank ploughed among them with deadly effect. A second quickly followed, and still she was drawing nearer.

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

There was something like good seamanship in his proposition if he could have 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 her course. "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 he did not think of. All was confusion on board the Leon, after those broadsides came. Her crew were frantically striving to cut loose the towing wreckage and bring their craft once more to the wind, while, as fast as Up-na-tan and his fellow-gunners could load and fire, the destruction was increasing.

"What's that?" screeched the pirate captain, in reply to one of his crew. "We are sinking, are we? Boats! To the boats! They shall never take us alive. Boats, and board the Spaniard!"

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

"Sam," said Captain Avery, soberly, "not one of those fellows must git away. Mercy to them is cruelty to everybody else. If I spare a pirate, I'll feel as if I was murderin' the next man or woman he puts a knife 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 her passengers had been killed or wounded. There had been no report of them made in the general excitement and despondency.

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

"Stop firing!" commanded Captain Avery, less than a quarter of an hour later. "That black flag feller is careenin'! She's fillin'! I declare, 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. "Our timbers are good, but we don't care to be struck at short range. Not by heavy shot, anyhow. You see, that redskin jest plugged her every time. 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 do some 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 he could have done it all alone – with the right kind of men to handle the pivot-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, the water pouring into her through the gaps in her starboard side. Down from her had dropped boat after boat, to be crowded with her surviving wolves, no effort being made by them to save any of their wounded companions. She had now drifted into pretty close neighborhood with the 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 now have succeeded in gaining possession of the Santa Teresa if she had been unassisted.

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

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

"Ay, ay, sir!" came back from his gunners, "but the Spaniard's in the way. 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 with grape-shot, and so had the pivot-gun. The Spanish cannon, hastily fired by excited men, had done some execution, but not one of the buccaneer boats had been disabled. The foremost of them was within ten fathoms of the Santa Teresa, and the swarm of murderers would have been over her bulwarks in another minute, when past her port quarter swept the Yankee privateer.

Bang, bang, bang, as fast as they were brought to bear, spoke out her three guns of that broadside, and Up-na-tan's eighteen-pounder. Then she 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 the Spanish trader. A shot from one of her guns had knocked out the stern of the largest boat. All that, however, had been of small account compared to the effect of that tempest of grapeshot. The boat crews withered away before it, and two of the boats themselves were upset in the panic that followed, while the fourth was evidently sinking. Black heads 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 of them?"

"Too late!" said the captain. "Not a man, I'm afraid. Jest look how they'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 and came back on the other tack. Every boat had now been upset or shattered and the sharks were having their own way with the picaroons.

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

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

"Quick!" said Guert. "Don't let the sharks get him. I'd give anything to 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 the rail, was a huge pair of snapping jaws that barely missed him. He fell, at first, and then his rescuers themselves were astonished. He did not say a word to them, but dropped at once upon his knees, and began to pour out thanks to the Virgin Mary, like a good Catholic.

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

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

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

It was only a last lurch and a plunge, and all that was left of the pirate Leon sank forever out of sight. The heads of her crew had also disappeared from the surface of the water, and the career of one of the terrors of the sea was ended.

CHAPTER X

THE BLACK TRANSPORT

"You don't mean to say it's all over!" exclaimed Guert, staring at the place from which the pirate schooner had vanished. "Seems to me it doesn't take long to fight a battle at sea."

"Yes, it does," said one of the older sailors, "if there's chasin' and manoeuvrin' and long range firin'. I've been in some that took all day and the next day, too. But we were too heavy guns for that feller."

"It's awful!" remarked Vine Avery, very thoughtfully. "I was trying to make out if we could have saved any more of 'em."

"No," said the captain, "I don't see how we could, considerin' where we were and the time it took us to come about. They grappled each other in the water, too."

"The fact is, boys," said Sam Prentice, "the savin' o' those fellers wouldn't ha' been of any use, anyhow. Spanish law isn't as slow and careful as ours is. It wouldn't ha' called for any trial by a court, you know. The nearest army or navy commander of any consequence would ha' taken hold of 'em. They'd all ha' been shot within a day after he seized 'em."

"Leastwise," said Vine, "'twasn't any fault of ours. I'm glad Guert made out to haul in one of 'em."

Guert had turned somewhat quickly away, while they were speaking, for his rescued man had been allowed to come and speak with him.

"Hullo!" said the captain. "They are talkin' Dutch. That's it! Guert's a New Yorker. He learned it at home."

"What sort is he, Guert?" asked the mate.

"He isn't any pirate, at all," eagerly responded Guert. "He's a Hollander that was on a ship they took. One of 'em knew him and saved him, and they 'pressed him in. He had to make believe he was one of 'em, but he never was."

"Pretty good story," said Captain Avery. "Maybe it's true. There's enough of 'em killed. We'll take care of him."

"I wish you would," said Guert. "Seems to me the right man got away."

"Not all of 'em," said the man himself in English that had very little foreign accent. "There were three more a good deal like me. Some o' the black men weren't reg'lar pirates. All the rest of 'em, though, belonged to the sharks. It was one o' the worst crews that ever floated. My name's Groot. I'm from Amsterdam, but I was brought up mostly in Liverpool. Sailed on British craft and French, too. I'm a true man, Captain Avery!"

The captain was willing to believe it, if he could, and he questioned him closely, all the crew of the Noank agreeing among themselves that Groot was their prize, anyhow, and ought not to be turned over to any Spanish authority.

All the while, the rescued Santa Teresa was drifting nearer, her bulwarks lined with eager people of all sorts, who were gazing gratefully at what seemed to them the very beautiful American schooner. She had arrived just in time to save them, and they had never before seen a ship that they were so pleased with. Loud hails were exchanged, and then followed, from the Spanish ship, a perfect storm of thanks.

"Guert," said Captain Avery, "I'm goin' aboard of her. You may come along. You may find some more Dutchmen. I can talk Spanish and French. I want to know just what shape they're in."

A boat was already lowered, and in a few minutes they were on the deck of the Santa Teresa.

"Women and children!" was Guert's first thought and exclamation. "To think of all of them being murdered! I don't feel half so sorry as I did about the pirates. I wish mother could see just what we've been saving from 'em. I guess it's perfectly right to shoot straight, sometimes. Glad I didn't miss once!"

All his shudders of regret and of horror over the work of the sharks passed away from him as those passengers crowded around him. There were four more Noank sailors, but the Spanish crew had captured them. The two captains were talking business, therefore Guert was taken in hand by the women and young people. One short, fat señora, who came at him first, had long, white hair tumbling down over her shoulders. She hugged him and kissed him, and cried and laughed, and she pointed – saying a great deal in Spanish – at a woman who was throwing her arms around a pretty pair of children. It was easy for Guert to understand that the old woman was thanking God and the Americans for the lives of her daughter and her grandchildren.

Other women did not altogether follow her example, for Guert showed a little bashfulness, there were so many of them; but he shook hands quite freely with the boys and girls. The Spanish youngsters showed him their weapons, too, trying to tell him how ready they had been to fight the buccaneers.

"It isn't a long run from this to Porto Rico," he heard Captain Avery say. "We'll see you safe in. We didn't lose a man."

"We lost five," replied the Spanish commander. "The sharks would have had all of us, instead of all of them, but for you. God bless you! We will patch up and spread all the canvas we can."

At that moment a friendly hand was laid upon Guert's arm, drawing him away from his women friends. Señor Alvarez held him hard for a breath or two, as if he were trying to speak and had lost his voice.

"My boy," he then exclaimed, "you came in time! This is my wife, Señora Laura Alvarez. These are my boy and girl. This is my wife's mother, Señora Paez. They told me that you fired that blessed long gun, yourself."

"Up-na-tan, the Indian chief, and I fired it," said Guert. "I'm a beginner."

"I understand," said the Spaniard. "You are a young cadet studying navigation. You must come home with me and study a Porto Rico plantation house. You must be my guest. We will treat you like a king."

"I shall be ever so glad, if Captain Avery'll let me," answered Guert. "He says we're likely to be in port quite a while. I'll ask him."

Captain Avery was near enough to hear, and he replied for himself. "It's all right, Guert," he said. "You may go. I want you to, even if we sail and come back while you're ashore. You see, my boy, you know a little Spanish now. Here's a chance for you to get ahead so you can begin to speak and read it. Every American sea-captain ought to know Spanish."

"Yes, sir, I'd like it first-rate," said Guert; "but I wouldn't like to have the Noank sail without me on board."

"We'll see 'bout that," replied the captain. "You'll obey orders, anyhow."

"I guess I'll have to," almost grumbled Guert, as he was compelled to get away from his friends and hasten back in the boat to the schooner; "but I didn't come to loaf on shore. I'd rather be a gunner."

There was a great deal of talk and excitement upon both vessels, but things were rapidly getting back into order. The sails were spread, and both were quickly in motion. The wind was fair, and night was coming on. As for the Noank, in particular, all that she had done for either pirates or Spaniards could not diminish the necessity she was under for keeping up a sharp lookout for anything sailing under the British flag. That banner might be fluttering nearer at any hour, and it might be upon a "sugar-boat," or it might be streaming out from the dangerous rigging of a cruiser.

Once the schooner was under way, Guert found himself more at liberty than usual, for all kinds of his sea schooling were given a vacation. His head was even more full than ordinary, however, and he had an especial reason for getting away with Sam Prentice during their next watch on deck. He had several times heard the mate talk about pirates. He had also heard something about them from Up-na-tan and Coco and the crew. Until now, however, all that he had heard at any time had been listened to as if it were unreal. He had never read a novel, and so he did not know that all of it had seemed to him a kind of pretty, interesting story of fiction, and not anything more. It was very different, now that he had seen a black flag and sent a heavy shot into the hull under it, and had watched while that hull went down.

"About the buccaneers, eh?" said Sam, as they leaned over the quarter-rail and looked out into the darkness. "Well! I s'pose there are books about 'em. You can learn a good deal from books, but I don't know any that'll tell you all there is 'bout those islands. There's too many of 'em, hundreds, mebbe, with outlyin' reefs and ledges. Then there are any number o' bays and inlets and lagoons. That's why it's so hard to follow up and ketch light draft pirate vessels. They can hide in a thousand out o' the way places until they git ready to run out and make a strike. One o' their biggest helps is the caves on some o' the islands. Safest kind o' places for men to hide plunder in, too. Some of 'em open right down at the water line, and some of 'em have deep water for quite a way in from the mouth. You can row a boat right on in at high tide, or even at low water, I've heard tell. Big cruisers ain't of any use 'mong the shoals and ledges and lagoons. Somehow the governments have been too busy 'bout other matters to build and arm the right pattern o' gunboats. That there picaroon that we sunk to-day was as large a craft as I ever heard o' their usin'. Oftener, they go out in canoes and rowboats and sailboats, and make surprises in light winds or calms, or in the night. All the shore people are afraid to tell on 'em, and they're good friends with the Caribs and the slaves. Of course, they've got to be all rooted out, some day, but it's goin' to be a tough job, I tell ye."

Many more things he had to tell, as Guert questioned him. Before he got through, it almost seemed as if all the nations of the world had once been pirates, of one kind or another, each nation thinking it right to capture ships of other nations on sight, if opportunity made it safe to do so.

"I tell you what," said Guert, at last, "I want to read books! I never had a chance at 'em. Rachel Tarns lent me a few, long ago, when we were at home in New York, before the British came. The war drove us out, you know, and we can't guess when we're to get back. I want to read."

"Now!" exclaimed the mate, "I've thought of one thing. You'll be at the Velasquez plantation. Mebbe for some time. They'll have heaps o' books. It'll help you learn Spanish if you'll try and read anything you find there. Learn all you can, wherever you happen to be."

"I just will!" said Guert.

"Now," said Prentice, "I'm goin' below. Some time to-morrer, if the wind holds good, we'll be in Porto Rico. Then you'll see something new."

Guert also had to go below and turn in, but it was not easy to sleep with his head so full, even after so very fatiguing a day. He was lying awake, therefore, long afterward, when he was startled by sounds on deck.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Something's happened! What if they should have sighted a British man-o'-war? If there's going to be any more fighting, I want to be at my gun!"

He was getting to be a genuine sailor, therefore, and the cannon he was stationed with had become a sort of pet and much as if it were his own property.

Not much careful dressing was called for after he sprung out of his bunk, and then he was up on deck without waiting for orders.

Not a great deal of noise had been made, after all, and most of the weary crew were still keeping their watch below, as soundly asleep as ever. Two pairs of ears, however, had been as keen as Guert's, and here were Coco and Up-na-tan, already at the pivot-gun, prepared for anything that might turn up. The moon was shining brightly and the wind was fair. The sparkling, foaming sea looked beautiful, and all was peace except upon the deck of the privateer. Away to leeward Guert could dimly see a sail that he believed to be the Santa Teresa, and at that moment a red ball rocket went up from her deck and burst, to inform her American friends that she was doing well.

"She's all right, then," Guert heard Captain Avery say to the man at the wheel. "I wish I knew what this feller is to wind'ard. Up-na-tan, be ready, there, with that gun. It looks to me like a brig o' some sort. It might happen to be one o' these 'ere British ten-gun brigs. I don't know, yet, whether or not one o' them 'd prove too much for us, if we got in the first broadside."

"Well, Captain," said the steersman, "we can't very well get out of her way, jest now. She has managed to come up to wind'ard of us, and she can hold on, best we can do. It's our bad luck!"

"Maybe it's her's," said the captain, grimly. "I won't call up the men for a bit. If there's a hard fight a-comin', a rest won't hurt 'em. It may be a Spanish coast-guard or a Frenchman. Everything down this way isn't British. Up-na-tan, take this night-glass and see what you can make of her."

The Manhattan came at once for the telescope, but a sudden change had come over the manners of Coco. It began with a curious kind of sniffing, sniffing, like a pointer dog in the neighborhood of game. Then he left his precious gun and glided to the rail, shaking his head and chattering harsh words in a tongue which nobody who heard could recognize.

Guert went over to join him, and his first glance at the face of the old African astonished him. It was absolutely convulsed with fury. The black man's hands were clenched, his teeth were grinding, and his eyes seemed to flash fire.

"What's the matter?" asked Guert. "Can you see anything out there?"

An angry screech, and then a guttural, wrathful war-cry, sprung from the lips of Coco.

At that moment Up-na-tan had been looking at the strange sail through the telescope.

"Brig," he had said. "All sail set. Big as the Santa Teresa. No cruiser. No Englishman ever set a foresail like that."

His implied compliment to the neatness of British seamanship was cut short by the yell of Coco, and he instantly lowered his glass.

"Whoo-oop!" he responded. "'Peak out! What Coco find?"

"Slaver!" screeched the African. "Coco smell him! Where Up-na-tan lose he nose?"

"Slaver?" exclaimed Captain Avery. "Bless my soul! We've nothing to do with men-stealers. I don't want any such prize as that, even if it's an Englishman. I wouldn't take a slave cargo into port."