WE ESCAPE TO SEA.
One or two bullets struck the boat, but most fortunately none of us got
hit. A brisk fire, however, was kept up for some minutes, and many of
the deadly little missiles flew about us with their ominous _pings_,
and then buried themselves harmlessly in the sea.
The pirates must have been thunderstruck at our apparently successful
attack upon the armed negroes, and the game way in which we walked
off with the boat under their very noses. It was of course extremely
tantalizing for them, especially as they had felt so sure of capturing
us.
However, we were not out of the wood yet, as we were presently to
discover.
For some minutes I lay in the bows of the boat, feeling wretchedly ill
and thoroughly done up. How I wished I could get rid of my saturated
clothes and don dry ones, for I began to feel chilled to the bone.
The gunner and Ned Burton were well to the fore at this crisis in our
fortunes. Luckily, they both had iron constitutions, with plenty of
stamina and reserve of force; in proof of which they rowed like madmen,
so as to get the boat out of range of the musketry fire which was being
continuously kept up from the shore.
One of the negroes, seeing that I was rather in a collapsed state,
crawled along the bottom of the boat to me, carrying in his hand a
green cocoa-nut, of which there was a supply in the stern-sheets.
With his knife he cut off the top, and handed me the brimming nut.
“Drink him, massa,” he whispered; “plenty mosh good.”
I needed no second invitation, but drank the contents in one long
delicious draught. That dusky negro was like a ministering angel, and I
told him so with as much emphasis as I could muster up.
I now began to feel more myself again, and by great good-fortune we
began to move out of the dense volcanic atmosphere into the bright
sunlight which reigned beyond. I rejoiced greatly at this, for it meant
dry clothes for us all.
A spent bullet or slug struck the boat near the water-line. I raised
myself and glanced over the gunwale.
The pirate chief and his myrmidons were still on the beach, and
occasionally fired a shot at us; but I perceived that we were fast
gliding out of range. Not far from the spot where the desperadoes stood
was a dark object, which I knew must be the corpse of Miguel.
As I gazed at the group, they suddenly ceased firing, and with a
parting volley of angry shouts which came but faintly over the waters,
they turned their backs on us, and started off at a sharp run across
the sandhills in the direction of the interior.
I instantly drew my companions’ attention to this fact.
“We haven’t done with the rascals yet, I’m afraid,” said the gunner,
glancing anxiously at their retiring forms. “They’re making for the
creek on t’other side of the island, and will pursue us in the brig.”
“That will be their little game, no doubt,” observed Ned thoughtfully,
“and we must do our level best to circumvent ’em. Having had the
good-fortune, under Divine providence, to escape from the island, we
may fairly hope that another little spell of good-fortune is in store
for us.”
Ned was always very sanguine, and consequently was often disappointed;
but his courage was indomitable.
I now felt so much better that I seized a spare oar—of which there were
several in the boat—and began to pull, begging the negroes to give my
shipmates each a cocoa-nut, as I felt sure that they must be suffering
intensely from thirst.
“Good idea of yours, Mr. Darcy,” said Ned, who had overheard my remark.
“I just about feel as if I could drink a brewery dry at this moment.
I tell you what, though; I wish that there _shegro_ warn’t in the
starn-sheets. I reckon she’d turn the scale at sixteen stone!”
I glanced at “Mother Bunch.” Now that the pirates had turned tail,
she no longer deemed it necessary to masquerade, and was sitting bolt
upright, with one podgy hand grasping the tiller, and her full moonlike
visage expansive with smiles, her blubber lips being so widely parted
that you could see every tooth in her head. At her feet the pickaninny
lay crowing and kicking, as if it thought there was something very
comical in the whole adventure.
The negroes were now as busy as bees. One of them handed up cocoa-nuts
to Mr. Triggs and Ned, while the other seized an oar and backed up my
efforts to improve the speed of the craft.
We were steering straight out to sea. The surface of the water was less
disturbed than it had been, owing to the cessation of the earthquakes,
and light draughts of air seemed to be working their way up from the
offing. It was probable that a sea-breeze would soon set in, and this
might be of great benefit to us, as there was a mast and sail in the
boat.
“We’re awfully grateful to you Johnnies,” observed the gunner, as he
threw his empty cocoa-nut shell overboard. “If it hadn’t been for you,
we should probably have had our throats cut by those villains ashore.
Now I want to know if this boat belongs to you, and whether you will
stick to us and do your best to land us in the island of Cuba. The
day we get back to our ship the _Rattler_ you shall have your fifty
pounds—that I can promise you on the word of an Englishman.”
The negro who had been handing up the nuts grinned, and scratched his
head. He evidently did not half understand Mr. Triggs’s long speech.
However, after a good deal of trouble and numerous misunderstandings,
we managed to extract the following information from them. As we had
supposed, they were the slaves of the pirates, and were employed by
them to raise garden produce, and to assist in unloading vessels which
had been captured and brought into the creek. Being skilful fishermen,
they were allowed to make use of a boat; and as finny spoils were to
be more plentifully obtained in the waters on the west side of the
island, they usually kept their craft upon the beach above high-water
mark—the creek being on the eastern seaboard. On this eventful morning,
they had started very early on a fishing excursion, and were actually
afloat when the terrible seismic disturbances commenced. Frightened
out of their wits, and almost swamped by the tidal waves which swept
the sea, they pulled about in various directions, hardly knowing where
to go for safety. At length they determined to land, as they were much
afraid of being upset and drowned. No sooner had they drawn their
boat up on the beach than the volcanic outburst commenced, and added
infinitely to their terror. It was the last straw, and they determined
to quit the island for ever, fully believing that it had been taken
possession of by evil spirits; but it was a long time before they could
muster up enough courage to launch their boat afresh and start on their
perilous journey. It must have been just after they had done so that
we appeared upon the scene. Having in their early days lived in some
of the British West India islands, they felt disposed to be friendly
towards Englishmen in distress; and as they were much afraid that the
pirates would force them to return to the island whether they liked
it or not, it was hurriedly decided to assist us if possible in our
evident determination to escape, and then sail away to other climes.
The reward of fifty pounds they ignored—so we understood them to say.
That is the gist of what the darkies told us.
We now held a brief council of war, as it was necessary to decide upon
some plan of action, and that quickly.
We were unanimously of opinion that we should pull straight out to sea
and trust to meeting a favourable breeze, or, better still, a friendly
vessel.
My shipmates tried to insist on my taking a complete rest, and allowing
them and the negroes to pull; but I could not consent to this plan,
tempting as it was, for I was feeling much stronger, and knew full well
that we should have to strain every nerve to escape, as the pirates
were hardly likely to sit down quietly and twirl their thumbs while
they had one or perhaps two vessels in the roadstead on the other side
of the island.
That we should be chased was a dead certainty, especially as it was
evident that the volcanic outbursts were now diminishing in violence.
The pirates would naturally be anxious for the safety of any property
they might have upon the island; but still our escape was of much more
serious import to them, for, of course, they knew only too well that we
should denounce them to the authorities and betray the whereabouts of
their island.
We pulled vigorously, therefore, often casting anxious glances towards
the jutting capes which marked the extremities of the pirates’ lair. A
thick curtain of smoke hung over the centre of the island and obscured
the view.
“Ha!” cried Ned, “yonder comes the brig, or one of their blooming
craft.”