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A Lad of Grit: A Story of Adventure on Land and Sea in Restoration Times

Page 9

by Percy F. Westerman


  CHAPTER IX--I lose the _Little Gannet_

  Throughout the first part of the night we held on our course, the pooplights of the _Gannet_ acting as a guide. Watches were set, five men ineach, I taking my turn in the first watch. Towards morning the windveered round and blew freshly from the west'ard, and when the sun rose,a watery orb, the wind increased into half a gale.

  We saw the _Gannet_ shorten sail, bowling along on the starboard tackunder easy canvas to enable us to keep up with her. I orderedadditional preventers to be rove, had the hatches battened down, andtook every possible precaution to ensure the safety of my vessel.

  By midday it blew a furious gale, accompanied by showers of blindingrain, and before long the _Gannet_ was nowhere to be seen. Even withher jury rig the _Little Gannet_ gave a good account of herself, thoughit was necessary to take an occasional spell at the pumps to keep downthe water that made its way through her hastily patched seams.

  From her build and rig my craft would lay closer to the wind than the_Gannet_, so I ordered her to be kept on the starboard tack for twohours, then on the larboard tack for another two hours, and so on,hoping by these means to keep within sight of our escort when the galemoderated.

  There were, as I have mentioned, five men in each watch--one of the twoliberated slaves, a Genoese, who spoke no English, being in mine, whilethe other, a negro, was placed in the second.

  This negro was of a gigantic stature, with powerful limbs, yet of atimorous disposition, so that directly the gale came on he could withdifficulty be made to do any work at all, but lay in a heap in theweather scuppers, moaning and muttering in broken English, Spanish, andhis native tongue.

  All that day the gale continued, but on the morrow the wind moderated,leaving us rolling in the trough of a heavy swell, with no sign of the_Gannet_.

  About nine in the morning we spied a sail on our starboard quarter.This we concluded was the _Gannet_, which we had evidently passed duringthe night; but three hours afterwards we could see that it was not ourparent ship, but a smaller and speedier craft.

  She had already perceived us, and had altered her course slightly tocome up with us, and, with every stitch of canvas set, she ploughed herway rapidly towards us.

  It was without doubt a hostile craft, but the knowledge that the_Gannet_ was somewhere close to us, though where we knew not, spurred usto make every preparation for flight or fight.

  By four in the afternoon the stranger was a mile astern, and with theaid of a glass I could see her colours--they were black, and bore theemblem of the Jolly Roger.

  I gathered my slender crew aft and exhorted them to make a desperateresistance, telling them that a tame surrender would be as futile ascapture after a determined fight. In either case the result would bedeath to us all, but the longer we held out the greater chance there wasof a timely rescue by the _Gannet_.

  They one and all expressed their willingness to resist to the last, andnow commenced one of those despairing fights against overwhelming oddsthat were only of too frequent occurrence. Many a gallant English vesselhas met her fate in a glorious but unrecorded effort in similarcircumstances, her end unknown at home and her disappearance soonforgotten, save by those bloodthirsty scoundrels who have felt the fangsof an Englishman at bay.

  We immediately manned one of the long brass guns, training it right afton the advancing pirate. I directed the gunner to aim at the foeman'sspars, endeavouring to cripple her aloft. With a flash and a roar theiron missile sped on its way, striking the pirate's topsail yard. Therewas a shower of splinters and the broken spar fell, till brought up bythe strain on the topsail and t'gallant sail, and at the same time thehalyards of the foresail parted, bringing that sail down to the deckwith a run.

  Notwithstanding our danger a cheer broke from us; but before we couldreload our gun the pirate yawed and let fly with her larboard guns.

  The result was disastrous to us. Two of our men were killed on the spotand two wounded, while both our jury masts went by the board, and the_Little Gannet_ lay helpless on the waves.

  The end was not long in coming. After another broadside the piratebacked her main topsail and hove to at less than a cable's length off.Two of her boats were lowered, and a swarm of bearded ruffians tumbledinto them and pushed off towards us.

  Resistance was hopeless, but the pirate appeared anxious to take usalive, and, partially stunned by a blow from a handspike, I was throwninto one of the boats and taken on board our captor, where, togetherwith five survivors, I was placed under guard on her quarterdeck.

  The pirate ship was called the _Friend of the Sea_, but she was theenemy of all who sailed upon it. She was heavily armed and manned, hercrew comprising a ruffianly assortment of every nation of south-westernEurope, and, judging by the gold ornaments that every man wore, theircruise had been highly successful for these rogues.

  They were busily engaged in transferring the cargo of the _LittleGannet_ to their own vessel. Much of this consisted of valuable storesthat the Algerine had on board when we took her, and the satisfaction ofthe lawless freebooters was unbounded.

  The two brass guns were also taken on board, the work of slinging themfrom the _Little Gannet_ to the boats, and thence to the pirate ship,being performed with a celerity and skill that would have drawn anexpression of admiration from the lips of Captain Poynings himself.

  When the whole of the valuable stores were safely on board, the piratesfired their prize, and an hour later, burned to the water's edge, myfirst command sank in a cloud of smoke and steam.

  The pirates worked unceasingly. Their next task was to repair thesplintered foreyard, which they did by fishing it with capstan bars andsmall spars. While this work was in progress there was a shout from thelookout, and from the hurrying scrambles of the crew I guessed thatanother sail was sighted.

  Hastily sending the spliced spar aloft, the crew squared the yards oncemore, and the _Friend of the Sea_ gathered way. From where I was Icould not tell whether we were chasing or in chase; but in a few momentswe had other things to think about, for the pirate captain and hislieutenant approached us.

  The former was a short, broad-shouldered man, with a heavy, black beard.He was dressed in typical buccaneering rig, with a red sash round hiswaist, in which were stuck a whole armoury of pistols and a shortTurkish dagger. Cruelty and viciousness were stamped upon every outlineof his face, but at the same time there were signs of a courageousnature and resource. He was apparently a Genoese or a Tuscan, and didnot, or would not, speak English, though he understood our replies inthe subsequent discourse we had with him.

  His lieutenant was a taller man, also heavily bearded, and bronzed withthe sun. In spite of myself I gave an exclamation of surprise, for hewas none other than the man with the scarred face who had tried to robme on the Portsmouth road over three years ago, and who had escaped fromColonel Middleton's troopers in the Forest of Bere.

  The recognition was mutual, and from the look of intense hatred on theman's features I knew that my fate was sealed. The two piratesconversed volubly in an unknown tongue, then the renegade Englishmanturned towards us again.

  "Listen, men," he said, addressing my companions in adversity. "Join usand you'll have a life that cannot be beaten. Light work, a fair shareof fighting, and plenty of booty. In two years you'll be rich enough tobuy the best inns in England, and can live like gentlemen to the end ofyour days. Refuse, and----" Here he jerked his thumb significantly inthe direction of the entry port.

  "And as for you, you white-livered young cub," he added, addressing me,"our captain here has given you to me, and, let me say, Dick Swyre willbe avenged. I'll have a little way of my own that will make you wishthat his end at the hands of the hangman were yours. Now, my lads, whatdo you say? Wilt join our merry crew?"

  The men who were appealed to were not long in making up their minds.Tom Black and George Wilson firmly and emphatically refused, and theirexample was followed by the two remaining Gannets--Dick Blake and a manwhose name I knew
not, he being always called Old Shellback. The fifthwas the blackamoor who had been a galley slave. He, miserable cur thathe was, assented with alacrity, and was sent for'ard to join therascally crew.

  My four men were led away, and for a time I was left to myself. I wasstill dizzy from the effects of the blow I had received, and thisprobably accounted for the complete indifference that I felt with regardto my fate. My wrists and ankles were tied, making it impossible for meto move, save by crawling and worming along the deck.

  The pirates were still busily engaged in making preparations for thecoming fight, and from the general direction of the glances that theymade I came to the conclusion that the _Friend of the Sea_ was in thiscase the fugitive. So busy were they that I edged towards an arm-rack,and, placing my bound wrists against a sharp cutlass, I succeeded infreeing them from the cords that bound them. This done, it was an easymatter to loose the ropes that fastened my ankles; then, lying in aposition that hid my limbs from any passing pirate, I tried to form aplan of escape.

  I could, of course, leap through a port into the sea, taking my chanceof being picked up by the pursuing craft, which I fondly hoped would bethe avenging _Gannet_; but I did not know what distance separated us,and even then, in the eagerness of the chase, there was littlelikelihood of their noticing me, still less of heaving to and picking meup.

  Suddenly I thought of the foretop. If only I could reach that I coulddefy the whole of the pirate crew, and at the same time render materialassistance to their foes. Now that I was free, my lethargy vanished,and I was the personification of active revenge.

  Taking advantage of the confusion I ran for'ard, and before I wasrecognized I had gained the nettings and was well on my way up theshrouds. A hoarse shout announced that my escape was discovered, and apistol bullet buzzed close to my head, quickly followed by another, thatflattened itself against a chainplate.

  I redoubled my efforts, and, racing over the futtock shrouds, I gainedthe top, where I threw myself down, panting and almost exhausted.

 

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