CHAPTER VI--Of the Finding of Pedro Alvarez, and of the Strange Talethat he Told
On arriving at Port Royal Captain Poynings decided that the _Gannet_should be refitted. Accordingly preparations were made to overhaul theship thoroughly ere she joined her consorts in a cruise amongst theAntilles for the purpose of destroying those hornets' nests ofbuccaneers that made the Caribbean Sea a terror to law-abiding seamen.
Our task was rendered doubly difficult, first by the oppressive heat,and secondly by the fact that, like the Mediterranean, these waters arepractically tideless, so that the difference between the rise and fallcan be measured by the span of a man's hand.
On this account it is impossible for a vessel to be left high and dry,so the operation of cleaning her hull below the waterline is performedby "careening", or allowing her to lie on one bilge, so that the otherside is raised above the water.
All heavy gear, including the guns, was taken ashore, the manual workbeing performed by gangs of negro slaves, who toiled and groaned underthe lash of their relentless taskmasters.
To me the sight was a terrible one, unaccustomed as I was to scenes ofcruelty, and I unburdened myself to the master.
"Heart alive, lad!" he replied with a careless laugh, "they are butniggers, and know naught else of life but to toil. Treat them kindly,and they'll take care to work still less. And, mark my words, lad, ifever it comes to pass that these blackamoors are freed, as Master Pennwould persuade us to do, then these islands are doomed. Never a strokewill they do save under compulsion---- There, look at that!"
A crash, a loud shriek, and a babel of shouts showed that a disaster hadoccurred. One of the largest guns was being hoisted over the side by acombination of tackle between the lower fore and main yards. Just as itswung outboard the sling on the chase parted, and the huge mass of metalfell into a barge alongside, crushing two negroes and tearing throughthe bottom of the shore-craft. Instantly all was confusion; the mastergunner was cursing at the loss of his piece of ordnance, his voiceraised high above the shouts of the terrified negroes, the bos'nreceiving the brunt of his attack. "Dost want me to teach thee thytrade, landlubber? Is it not time that ye learned to tie aught but aslippery hitch?"
This aspersion on the boatswain's workmanship caused a fierce dispute,but this had not lasted long when it was suddenly stopped by anotheryell of terror.
There was another rush to the ship's side, and I saw a dozen dark formsstruggling in a smother of foam-lashed water under our quarter, whilethe triangular fins of several sharks showed that the culminatingtragedy had occurred.
Two negroes, in addition to those killed by the fall of the gun, werelost in the sudden and brief incident, yet the only remark the overseerdeigned to make was: "And they cost a hundred pieces of eight but amonth ago!"
In less than three days the work of dismantling the _Gannet_ wascomplete, and only the hull and the lower masts remained. Floating somefive feet above her usual loadline, the ship was towed into the mouth ofa muddy creek, and there careened till the whole of the bottom on thelarboard side, with the exception of the keel and a few of the lowerplanks, was clear of the water, disclosing a sloping wall ofbarnacle-covered timbers.
As the next few weeks would be spent in scraping, breaming, and pitchingthe hull, the officers were allowed to take up quarters ashore, andright glad was I to have the chance of having a spell on dry land afterso long and arduous a time afloat.
Port Royal was at that time in a state of considerable excitement, forin the castle, heavily ironed, lay five notorious buccaneers, who a weekbefore our arrival had been brought in by the _Assurance_, ofthirty-eight guns, after a desperate resistance. They had beencondemned to die; but, owing to a slight difference between the admiraland the governor of Jamaica, their fate was yet undecided, the formerwishing to send them to England to grace Execution Dock, the latterdesiring to gratify the inhabitants of Port Royal by stringing up theprisoners in front of the castle. So hot had waxed the dispute that thematter was referred home, and already a swift vessel had left forEngland to obtain His Majesty's decision on the matter.
On the third evening of our spell ashore we were walking across theplaza, or open square, fronting the quay. The sun had set, and, withtropical suddenness, daylight had given place to darkness.
"What is that--guns or thunder?" suddenly exclaimed Drake, pointingseaward. The horizon at one particular spot was illuminated by distantyet bright flashes of light, while a subdued rumbling smote our ears.Other passers-by were also attracted by the sound, and knots of peoplequickly began to collect on the side of the quay, gazing intentlytowards the south.
For over half an hour the flashes continued, and it was soon evidentthat an engagement was taking place, the noise of the firing graduallycoming closer.
Several of the more timid inhabitants made for their homes, where, weafterwards learned, they began to hide their valuables. Others, armingthemselves with a medley of weapons, hurried to the fortress, from whicha gun was fired and then lanterns hoisted as a signal when a vessel wasexpected.
In response to the gun, three companies of musketeers, with drumsbeating and matches burning, marched from their quarters to the fort,followed ten minutes later by a large body of pikemen, their armsglittering in the light as they passed by the huge wood fires that hadbeen hastily kindled on the battlements.
"Hasten, Aubrey! Our place is on board the _Gannet_," quoth Drake, andalternately running and walking we hurried out of the town, crossed thecauseway over the marsh, and arrived at the mud dock, where the vessellay.
Here, too, was activity and commotion. Captain Poynings was already onboard, directing his officers, while gun after gun was dragged overgreased planks to the ship's side, there to be "whipped" aboard by heavytackle.
All night we worked like slaves, sending up topmasts, yards, andrigging, shipping stores and ammunition. In eleven hours of darknessthe _Gannet_ was almost her former self, for, being the only warship onthe station (the rest being, as I have mentioned, away amongst theAntilles), the governor had sent orders that no exertion was to bespared in getting her ready for sea.
While we worked, all kinds of rumours and reports reached us. First onewould come with a tale that war was declared with the Spaniards, or theFrench, or the Dutch, or else all three. Another would arrivebreathless, saying that all the buccaneers of the Indies were off theport, and that our fleet had been worsted. Yet another came with theinformation that only one battered and shattered ship had arrived duringthe night, the sole remnant of an English squadron, and that a hostileforce had landed at a spot a few miles to the east of the town.
To all these wild rumours Captain Poynings paid but slight heed. Workwas to be done, and pressing work too; yet with such a spirit did themen take to the task, without need of threats of rope-ends, such as themasters of other king's ships are wont to use, that our record has neveryet been equalled.
At break of day we could gather some true facts of the state of affairs.Under the guns of Port Royal lay a small armed merchant vessel, the_Whitby_, of ten guns, sadly shattered about the hull. In the offingwere five ships that many recognized as belonging to one Lewis, arenegade king's officer, who, attracted by the glamour of easilyacquired wealth, had seduced his crew from their allegiance and turnedbuccaneer. Joined by several others of like nature, Lewis had collecteda squadron of seven swift vessels; but the _Assurance_ had captured twoof the ships, and Lewis, with four of his fellow rogues, formed theparty of captives whose fate now hung in the balance as they lay inirons in the castle.
The _Gazelle_, a consort of the _Whitby_, had been captured and sunk bythe buccaneers that night; but after a long running fight the lattership had managed to make Port Royal in the darkness, this being thecause of the firing we had heard.
Captain Poynings lost no time in preparing to float the _Gannet_ out ofher mud dock, though it was evident from his puckered brows that he haddoubts as to whether the increased weight on board would prevent theship from coming
off.
Nevertheless he could not have completed the task of fitting out sohurriedly if every piece of ordnance had to be brought off to the shipin barges or lighters after she was afloat, so he resorted to thehazardous expedient of careening her still more.
Our best bower anchor, with its great twenty-inch hempen cable, wascarried out towards the centre of the harbour, the tail of the cableremaining on board. All the guns were run over to the larboard side, sothat the _Gannet's_ lower-deck ports were within a few inches of thesurface of the water, her draught being thereby lessened. Twoadditional cables were carried from the quarters to opposite sides ofthe creek, where gangs of negroes were directed to pull their hardest.
It was an anxious time. The capstan clanked slowly round as the maincable tautened and came in foot by foot; the negroes, the sweatglistening on their ebony arms and backs, bent to their task, encouragedor goaded by the shouts of their overseers.
Slowly the _Gannet_ moved towards the open water and freedom, her keelploughing through the liquid mud and causing a regular turmoil of yellowfoam within the little dock.
Gradually she gathered way till her bow projected beyond the entrance tothe creek, then, as if gripped by a powerful hand, she brought up andstopped immovable.
The master, wild with rage, called upon the seaman to take soundings,and, this being done, it was found that the _Gannet_ was held by theheel, the forepart being well afloat.
"Give the men breathing space, Master Widdicombe," said the captain, ashe saw the panting forms of his men. "Another effort and we are free."
"Not I, by your leave, sir," retorted the master. "Let the vesselsettle but a minute and this mud holds her. Pipe the men aft," heshouted, and in obedience to the shrill cry of the bosn's mate's whistlethe whole ship's company, including the officers, assembled at thewaist, save the men who manned the capstan bars.
"Now, ye blackamoors, haul away!" yelled the master to the crowd on thebanks. "More beef into it, bullies," urged the bos'n to the capstanmen, and, as the strain on the cables increased, the rest of the crew,in obedience to an order, doubled along the sloping decks, as well asthey were able, towards the bows, the whole vessel trembling with themotion.
This manoeuvre was successful. Hardly had the body of men reached theforemast when the _Gannet_ glided forward and entered the deep waters ofthe harbour, the two ropes on her quarter trailing astern, and the mobof excited negroes who had manned them were shouting and dancing on thebanks of the creek.
The _Gannet_ brought up on her shortened cable, sail was hastily made,and away we went southward in chase of the buccaneers.
As we cleared the mouth of the harbour we perceived their ships nearlyhull down; but with every stitch of canvas set, and withal a newlycleaned hull, we rapidly lessened the distance between us.
That they suspected not the presence of a king's ship in Port Royal wasevident in that they made no attempt to sheer off; instead, they beat uptowards us till we could clearly make them out.
Then, as if aware of our formidable character, they turned, two makingaway to the north-west, two to the south-east, while the fifth, thoughshe showed her heels for a time, backed her main-topsail and hove to.
She was a long, rakish, yellow-sided craft, evidently built for speed,and her audacity puzzled us mightily; but knowing the diabolical cunningof these freebooters, we were determined to take no chance of asurprise.
We were almost within range when her maintopsail filled and she was off,following the direction of her two consorts who had made towardsHispaniola.
As we watched her there were signs of a struggle taking place onboard--pistol-shots rang out, and a heavy form plunged over hertaffrail. Instantly several men rushed to the stern and opened fire onthe object, which, so many of our crew declared, was a man swimming.This it turned out to be. Amid a hail of shots that churned up theplacid water all around him a man's head appeared, and the swimmer,using powerful strokes, made directly towards us.
"It seemeth strange that he escapes their fire," remarked the bos'n, asthe swimmer bobbed up and down amid the splash of the shot. "We maypick him up. Away there--prepare a bowline."
"I believe they do not try to hit him," replied the master; "or theirgunnery is far worse than yesterday, when they hulled the _Whitby_. Buthe will never reach this ship alive. Look!"
Following the direction of his finger, we perceived the dorsal fins oftwo enormous sharks as they cleft their way towards the swimmer; but,frightened by the splash of the shots, they contented themselves byswimming in large semicircles between us and the fugitive.
Interest in the buccaneering vessel was for the time being entirelylost, all our crew watching the efforts of the swimmer, as with tirelessstroke he quickly lessened his distance from the _Gannet_.
In obedience to an order from the captain our men cast loose a pair ofswivel guns, for it was evident that the buccaneer was getting out ofrange, and her shots no longer disturbed the water. Far from destroyingthe man, the discharge of her ordnance had proved his salvation; so ourcaptain resolved to act likewise and plant shot after shot close to him,so as to frighten off these tigers of the deep, while our men wavedencouragingly to the swimmer.
Through the drifting smoke from our ordnance I caught momentary glimpsesof the fugitive. He was swimming strongly, yet easily, and without anysign of either physical or mental discomfort. By this time he was soclose that I could see the flash of his eyes between the matted clustersof dark hair that covered his brows.
The sharks still kept off; our gunners ceased to fire, and the runningbowline was dropped from our catheads for the man to be hauled on board,when, within fifty yards from us, he suddenly disappeared, and over thespot darted yet another huge shark that, unobserved, had lurked underour bows.
We could see the monster turn on its back to seize its prey. There wasa snapping of jaws, and the sea around it was discoloured with blood.An involuntary cry of horror broke from us; then, to our surprise, wesaw the man reappear, brandishing a sheath-knife, while the shark, inits last throes, floated belly uppermost, a skilful thrust of the knifehaving practically disembowelled it.
In another minute the man had grasped the bowline, and with the knifebetween his teeth he was drawn up to the fo'c'sle.
He was a short, ungainly personage, probably a Dago, judging by hisdark, olive skin and raven hair. Unconcernedly he drank a dram whichwas given him; then, with the moisture draining from his clothes as hehobbled across the deck, he was led off to be questioned by our captain.
During this episode the buccaneer had shown us a remarkably clean pairof heels, so that nothing short of an accident to the crowd of canvasshe was carrying could ever make us hope to overhaul her.
But in spite of enquiries Captain Poynings gathered little from therescued man.
"Me Portugee, me Portugee; me honest; me no rogue. Me see SenhorCapitan alone, den me tell him ebberything," he reiterated.
"I will not talk with you alone," replied Captain Poynings sternly."You are a pirate or an accomplice of that rascally crew. Now, give anaccount of yourself, or a taste of the cat will make you speak."
At the mention of the "cat" the man's eyes glittered ominously, then,instantly relapsing into his subservient manner, he jabbered in brokenEnglish:
"Me no rogue. Me Pedro Alvarez of Habana. By de Virgin me speak truth!"And holding a small wooden crucifix that hung from his neck, the mankissed it with exaggerated fervour.
"Me speak only to Senhor Capitan. Tell him ebberything. Senhor Capitanmuch please wid my tale."
"No!" roared Captain Poynings, knitting his brows in that mannerpeculiar to him when aught vexes him.
"Vell, den, me speak to Senhor Capitan an' three odder. Pedro's taletoo 'portant for odders to hear."
To this the captain assented, and the Portuguese, having been deprivedof his knife, and searched for any concealed weapons he might have had,was taken below to the stateroom, whither repaired the captain, twolieutenants, and the master.
For over an hour they remained, and on coming on deck we noticed thatCaptain Poynings and his officers looked highly pleased, though thePortuguese still wore an impassive look.
"Send the ship's company aft," said the captain. "'Tis but right thatthey should know."
Eagerly the men clustered in the waist, while from the poop theirgallant leader addressed them.
"Hearken, my men," quoth he. "It has come to our knowledge that a vastamount of treasure lieth hidden on a cay the bearing whereof is knownonly to this Portuguese. He is willing to guide us to the spot inconsideration of a safe conduct to Europe and one-seventh of the spoil.By my commission His Majesty gives me power to engage in suchenterprise, whereof one-tenth reverteth to our sovereign lord, the king.Be it understood that I will deal fairly with all men, dividing theresidue into shares according to the regulations pertaining to treasuretrove. For your part do your work with a will. Let no stranger learnand forestall our mission, and I warrant ye the purser shall pay in goldwhere heretofore ye had but silver."
Cheers greeted the announcement, and the men retired to discuss thismatter amongst themselves. We, however, learned still more. Briefly,the Portuguese's tale was this:--
Less than ninety years ago a Spanish treasure-ship left Vera Cruz,richly laden with plate and specie. A few days after leaving portyellow fever decimated the crew, and the survivors, unable to handle theship, ran her aground on a small cay in the Rosario Channel, between theIsla de Pinos and Cuba. The treasure was landed and hidden, butbickerings and disease still further reduced their number, till only oneman remained. He was rescued by a galliot the owner of which wasPedro's grandfather. In gratitude, the Spaniard showed his rescuer aplan of where the specie lay, the men agreeing to share the spoil. Bothmen were lost in an attempt to reach the island in a small craft inwhich they had sailed alone, so as to keep their secret, and thus alltrace of the spot vanished till five years ago, when Pedro came acrossthe rough chart and an account of the matter, which had been hidden inthe rafters of his hut. Pedro himself visited the cay, saw the treasure,but was unable to carry off the stuff single-handed. He returned toHabana, entrusted six others with the secret, and fitted out a smallfelucca to secure the spoil.
On the voyage the little craft was seized by the buccaneers, and all hiscompanions were murdered. Pedro alone was kept a prisoner, the pirateintending that he should pilot them when occasion served.
Never a word concerning the treasure did he say to the buccaneers, but,taking a favourable opportunity, he had left the ship under thecircumstances that we had observed.
Captain Poynings eagerly examined the chart. Already the lust for goldhad entered into his soul, and he was ready to hazard everything for thesake of that which had cost the lives of hundreds of men in theseseas--the quest of hidden treasure.
"Bring out a larger chart, Master Widdicombe," he exclaimed, "and let ussee where this island should be."
The chart was produced, and the latitude and longitude carefully prickedoff, whereat Captain Poynings turned purple with rage and sworehorribly.
"The villain would send us on a fool's errand," he declared, bringinghis fist down on the table with tremendous force. "The position hewould have us believe to be an island is in the midst of the YucatanPassage, with nothing less than eighty fathoms."
For the moment we were all dumbfounded Visions of untold wealth wererudely dispelled.
"Bring out that rascally Portuguese, trice him up, and give him fivedozen!" cried the captain, a strain of his choleric ancestor betrayingitself.
"Stay!" replied the master. "I have it! This position is shown by ourlongitude, whereas this rough chart is of Spanish draughtsmanship. Now,taking the longitude of Madrid as zero, we find that----"
"Good, Widdicombe, you have hit it! Yet, forsooth, 'twas but your duty.Prick out, then, a fresh position, and pray 'twill be better than thelast!"
A few minutes' calculation enabled the master to announce that 22 deg.4' N., 82 deg. 46' W. was the corrected position, and to the unboundedsatisfaction of us all it was found that it marked a small island almostin the centre of the Rosario Channel, agreeing with the descriptionwhich Pedro Alvarez had given.
As there was now no sign of the buccaneering craft, the _Gannet_ putabout and returned to Port Royal, there to wait until the return of thecruising squadron should set us free to pursue our adventure. Fornearly two weeks we remained in suspense, Captain Poynings refusingleave for fear that a man's tongue might get the better of hisdiscretion, till early one morning we perceived to our great joy thesails of our consorts approaching the port.
A Lad of Grit: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea in Restoration Times Page 6
