THE CHASE.
Cuffy Snowball fired his musket at our pursuer, whether with or
without effect we know not; but, in reply, a confused discharge of
firearms followed, and the balls pattered among the rigging, and
knocked little splinters from our spars and gunwale.
"Now, my lads," said Hartly, "let fly at her with everything you
have--sealing-guns and rifles!"
This order was executed with alacrity. We had four good rifles and
ten long-barrelled and wide-muzzled sealing-guns, each of which sent
ten or twelve slugs of lead _whirring_ through the air at every
discharge, and we blazed away right valiantly at the crowd of rascals
in the schooner's bows; but so great was the distance between us,
that I am certain our fire fell harmlessly into the sea--the rifle
shots alone could have told with effect.
On first deliberately levelling my rifle (a fine Enfield, presented
to me by my father on leaving Peckham) at a man in the starboard bow
of the pirate, a strange sensation came over me!
I lowered my weapon and paused; but a shot that struck one of the
davits at which the stern-boat hung, removed my momentary, and at
that unpleasant crisis most unnecessary scruple.
I levelled again--fired and reloaded, and without considering whether
or not I had killed a man, continued to pepper away with all the
coolness and precision of Cuffy Snowball, the ex-corporal of H.M.
West India Regiment.
"Run up our ensign, and let her rascally crew see it while there is
light," said Hartly. "Paul Reeves, rig out the lower studding-sail
booms forward, and bring aft those two carronades and the small
anchor, to trim her more by the stern. Tom Hammer, see to this!"
"Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response.
The orders were promptly obeyed. The small anchor and two little
guns, for which we unfortunately had only powder for signals, were
brought aft; the sharp bows of the _Leda_ thus rode more easily over
the water. The lower studding-sails were rapidly spread and hoisted
up; and then we flew through the darkening sea till its water seemed
to smoke alongside, and bubbled in snowy froth under the counter,
leaving a long white wake, like that of a steamer, astern.
Closely in this long wake followed our pursuer, with deadly
pertinacity.
It is impossible to convey in words any idea of the excitement of
this chase--this flight and pursuit--this race of rivalry, of life
and death! The daring ruffians who manned the schooner had committed
several murders and robberies on sea and land. They had overhauled
and rifled several merchant ships, carrying off compasses, charts,
provisions, watches, money, and everything of value: thus, to have
undergone such a ransacking at their hands--even if our lives were
spared--would effectually have marred our expedition for that year.
They were evidently well armed, for their rifle-balls flew thick and
fast about us. The cracking report, and the _pingeing_ sound of the
conical shot that followed every red flash which broke over the sharp
bows of the schooner, added considerably to our anxiety to escape,
and to our exasperation at being thus molested on the high seas, and
within two hundred miles of where we had left one of her Majesty's
sloops of war in the harbour of St. John, but frozen in,
unfortunately.
Though these missiles struck the brig's stern and rigging
incessantly, we had only one man hit--an Irish seal-fisher, who had
left a wife and family at Dead Man's Bay, to try his fortune with us
in the North. A ball pierced his shoulder, smashing the collar-bone;
and the poor fellow sank on the deck with a shrill cry of agony. A
lad named Ridly had his cheek grazed by another shot.
The dusk was fast increasing; but the red flush of the winter sunset
yet lingered in the western sky; the snow-clad islets that stud the
Bay of Exploits had assumed a dark purple hue, and the sea through
which we were careering, northwest, towards the Bay of Notre Dame,
wore a deep and sombre blue.
Clearly defined against the dusky and ruddy sky, we could see the
pursuing schooner, her tall slender spars swaying from side to side,
with every stitch of snow-white canvas spread upon them; and she tore
through the waves like a giant bird, swimming in the wake of dead
water that ran like a long path astern of us.
We had everything set aloft and alow; to her very trucks the _Leda_
was covered with swelling canvas, and she was a beautiful sight! The
keen and anxious eyes of Hartly, who was at the wheel, scanned ever
and anon the taut cordage, the bending masts, and then he would cast
a fierce glance astern.
"We are leaving her fast, sir," said Paul Reeves, confidently; "in
another hour we shall be far enough apart to feel comfortable."
"Bravo, my little _Leda_!" responded my friend; "she is trimmed and
masted to perfection! You see, Jack, how a square-rigged craft has
the advantage over even a sharp little serpent with a floating sheet,
like that rascally schooner!"
Her crew still continued to blaze at us with their rifles; but ere
long the bullets fell far short, for we were now more than a thousand
yards apart, and with cheers of derision we continued to surge
through the darkening ocean.
"If we had only possessed a few round-shot, we might have knocked
some of their sticks away with these two useless carronades," said
Hartly, as he now relinquished the wheel to Hans Peterkin, his second
mate, and ordered glasses of grog to be served all round. "Corporal
Cuffy, do you think you could have knocked her mainboom away, when
the sea is so smooth?"
"Like to knock all him brains out!" replied the Congo-man with a
savage grin; for, inspired by some of his old African instincts,
Snowball was the only person on board who regretted that we had not
enjoyed a hand-to-hand conflict with these outlaws.
But now the darkness of the descending night, together with the
gathering clouds and haze, concealed the schooner from us.
We extinguished all lights on board, and ere long when a red spark
about seven miles astern indicated that she was still tracking us,
Hartly took in his studding-sails, reduced the canvas on the brig,
brought his larboard tacks on board, and bore up for Cape St. John,
the boundary of the French shore, to land our wounded man, who was
suffering great agony from his compound fracture, and with whom, as
we had no medical officer, it would have been impossible to pursue
our voyage.
This rencontre, chase, and escape, formed a staple topic for
conversation to all on board, and till the night was far advanced no
one thought of turning in.
When day broke we found ourselves close in shore, on the northern
side of the great Bay of Notre Dame, with Cape St. John bearing about
three miles off on our lee bow. We swept the sea with our glasses,
but not a sail was visible in the offing, nor all along the snow-clad
coast. Save Cuffy Snowball, all expressed their satisfaction at
this; but we were not yet entirely done with our sable acquaintance,
the _Black Schooner_.