THE DECK IS OURS
I had the next step carefully outlined in my own mind, and yet I
hesitated a moment, glancing into the two faces before me, with a
sudden realization of what the contemplated action would mean to all
of us, if by any chance it should fail of success. Our lives certainly
hung in the balance, for these fiends would show no mercy, if once
they gained power to strike back. Yet how could we fail? Only through
treachery, or some unforseen accident. And, moreover, it was too late
for retreat. The one chance, desperate as it appeared, must be taken.
I managed to speak cheerfully, putting a ring of confidence into my
voice.
"Then the sooner we act the better. Watkins have LeVere order these
men aft. Let him say that Senor Estada wishes them to break out some
stores in the lazaret. That will create no suspicion. They need be
here only long enough for us to distribute these arms among them, and
for me to speak a word of instruction to them. Are you ready?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
As he vanished, I turned to the girl, who had arisen to her feet, one
hand grasping the edge of the table to balance herself against the
pitching of the deck.
"It is a desperate chance, is it not?" She questioned anxiously.
"Yes," I admitted. "Fifteen of us against a hundred and fifteen, but
worth taking and such an opportunity may never occur again. I believe
the plan will work; its greatest weakness is, I do not know the men on
whom I must rely. If there should be a traitor among them we are done
for. I mean to work so fast no one man will be able to spread the
news."
"But have I no part? Is there no way in which I can help?"
"You have your pistol?"
"Yes."
"Then remain here. I shall have to go on deck with the men, and will
not dare leave them a moment until the ship is absolutely secure.
Manuel is locked in that stateroom, but must not be communicated with
by anyone. I hardly believe Gunsaules will attempt anything, but it is
not safe to trust him alone. It will be your part to see that the
fellow neither enters that passage leading amidships, nor approaches
this door. Keep him in sight. You can do this?"
"Of course I can."
"Then you will do most valuable service, and save us a man. Wait here
now until I see how securely this passage forward is closed."
It was as described to me--a heavy oaken door, nail studded, not only
locked, but held firmly in place by a stout iron bar. There was not
the faintest possibility of any entrance aft, except through
assistance from this side. As I returned to the cabin, Gunsaules came
out of the Captain's room and crossed the deck. At sight of me he
stopped instantly, holding his tray in front of him.
"Gunsaules," I said, wasting no words, "you are to remain in this
cabin until I give the word. The lady here has a pistol, and orders to
shoot if you attempt to either enter this passage, or approach the
door of Manuel's stateroom."
"Yes, Senor," his face like chalk, and his eyes rolling.
"How did you find Sanchez?"
"Sitting up in his bunk, Senor, and able to eat."
"Does he know what is occurring on board?"
"No, Senor. He questioned me, but I only told him everything was all
right, so far."
In my heart I believed the fellow deliberately lied, but there was no
opportunity to question him further, for at that moment the door of
the companion opened and a miscellaneous group of men thronged down
the stairs. They were a rough hairy lot, here and there a sturdy
English countenance meeting my gaze, but the faces were largely
foreign, with those of two negroes conspicuous. I felt my heart beat
furiously at sight of such poor material, and yet many a ship's crew
appeared worse. The fellows grouped themselves awkwardly behind
Watkins.
"Twelve here, sir; I couldn't get Harwood down from the fore-top."
"And there are others below who will join us?"
"Yes sir; six more I count on."
"Which means lads, that with Harwood, Senor LeVere, and myself, we'll
total twenty-one in this shindy. Now I'll tell you what is up. Watkins
gave you some of it no doubt, but a word from me will make it clearer.
I'm no pirate; I'm an English sailor, shanghied on board. Estada
named me first officer because I understand navigation."
I stopped speaking, staring at one of the faces before me; all at once
it appeared familiar.
"What is your name, my man?"
"Jim Carter, sir."
"You were in the crew of the _Sinbad_, three years ago?"
"I was that, Mister Carlyle," he answered grinning. "I know'd you the
minute I cum down yere."
"Then that is all I need say on that line. Here's one of your mates,
lads, who will vouch for me. Now, as I've been told, you are all of
you in the same boat--you are prisoners on board, cowed by those
mongrel devils amidships. Do you understand what I say?"
"If ye'd put it in Spanish, sir," said Carter respectfully, "an' talk
kinder slow, they'd most ov 'em catch the meanin'. That's 'bout all
the lingo we've heard lately."
"Very well; now listen closely, all of you. Luck has given us a chance
to make a break, and get away. Captain Sanchez is wounded and
helpless. Pedro Estada is dead, and I've got Manuel locked in that
stateroom. His cut-throats are all below, and now all we've got to do
is clap on the hatch and keep them there."
"What 'bout the nigger on watch?" broke in Jones hoarsely. "I'd like
ter crook him, by God."
"He's with us so far. I'll answer for him. Now, what I want to know is
are you fellows with me?"
Watkins answered up promptly; then Carter; the others joining in with
less heartiness, the different accents revealing their nationalities.
I knew sailors well enough to feel assured they would follow their
leaders once the game started.
"That's good enough; now we've got to hit hard and quick, lads. There
are six men on deck who are not with us. Watkins will take care of
them with those fellows I don't assign to other work. Jones, you and
Carter make straight for the forecastle and don't let anyone come up
the scuttle. One of you had better drop down below, and prevent any of
those lads from unbarring the door leading amidships. Who is the best
for that job?"
"Let Carlson do it. He belongs to the starboard watch."
"All right--Carlson it is then. You Frenchmen, and the two negroes,
your part will be to ship the main hatch. Do a quick job, and clamp it
down tight. Do you all understand just what you are to do?"
The responses satisfied me.
"I'll come down to you, Carlson, as soon as we have the deck. It ought
not to take more than five minutes to handle those lads, and slew
around a carronade. Now don't be afraid to hit hard. Watkins, you and
Carter hand out the cutlasses from the rack; you boys will handle
those better than firearms. Good; now are you all ready?"
There was a low murmur of voices, the faces watching me showing their
increasing excitement and eagerness. Our little talk had served to
arouse their confidence in my leadership, and with gleaming weapons in
their hands they became self-reliant volunteers. Once turned loose my
greatest difficulty might be to restrain them, rather than urge them
on. Revenge for past wrongs was in each heart, and they welcomed a
chance to strike and kill.
I whispered a parting word of admonition into the ear of Dorothy,
receiving in return a glance from her eyes, which gave a new throb to
my heart; then straightened up, and pistol in hand, pushed my way
through the throng of sailors to the foot of the stairs.
"Follow me, lads," I said quietly, "and every man do the particular
thing assigned him. Don't pay any attention to your mates--do your
part, and then wait for orders. Come on now."
We emerged through the companion, and I stepped aside as the others
rushed by. There was no shout, no cheer, the fellows seeming to
realize the desperate nature of their work, and the importance of
surprise. They were outnumbered five to one, and their only hope of
success lay in rendering their opponents helpless before they could
rally to a defense. All the pent-up hate of years was in their hearts,
blazed madly in their eyes; they were tigers leaping at the throat of
their prey, yet sane enough to comprehend even in their blood-rage
that they must act together. It was over so quickly I scarcely saw it
all; my memory now is of a clear sky, a deck almost deserted, its
brass work glowing in the sun, the white sails above bellowing out to
the pressure of a strong wind, and the blue sea, crested with white,
stretching about us in desolate grandeur. LeVere stared down over the
poop rail, behind him the motionless figure of the wheelsman, his
hands gripping the spokes, while across the open deck the speeding
mutineers leaped to their several posts, with bare cutlasses shining
in the sun. And they did their work. My eyes swept from group to
group--the four toiling at the cover of the main hatch; the fellows
racing toward the forecastle; and Watkins' squad driving straight into
the grouped watch beyond the foremast. It was smartly done; Watkins
had taken no cutlass, but went in with both fists, asking no
questions, but battering right and left, his men surging after, with
steel blades flaming in the sunlight. The astounded watch, cursing and
fighting grimly, held for a moment, and then went staggering back
against the port rail, unable to stem the rush, and roaring for mercy.
I had view of Carlson dropping recklessly down the forecastle scuttle,
and then sprang forward myself to give a hand to the four wrestling
with the main hatch. Together we dragged it into position, forcing
relentlessly back as we did so, a dozen struggling figures frantically
endeavoring to reach the deck. Shots were fired, the bullets whistling
through the opening, the flare lighting up the black depths below,
revealing vaguely a mass of frantic men staring up, and cursing us
fiercely in a dozen languages; but, in spite of them, we clamped the
hatch down tight, and locked it securely into place with an iron bar.
Even through this cover the sound of smothered yells reached our ears,
mingled with blows of gun-butts, as the fellows vainly endeavored to
break out from their prison. The negro Sam grinned from ear to ear,
executing a jig, as he flashed his cutlass above his head.
"Stay here, all four of you," I commanded sharply. "This job is well
done. Now let me see about the others."
Watkins needed no help; he had his party rounded up, and in complete
control, the fellows begging for mercy, as they crouched before the
cutlasses of their assailants. To my orders they were driven into the
cook's galley and a guard stationed at the door. Then I turned to the
more serious work confronting me in the forecastle. What lay before me
in facing the members of the starboard watch it was impossible to
conceive, but they had to be sorted out, and it was my task. We must
have men enough to sail the bark, and if I was to command them, I must
first of all prove my courage and enforce authority. The whole success
of our effort depended on this.
"What's going on below?" I asked.
"Cursin' mostly," answered Carter, peering down through a slight
uptilting of the scuttle. "They don't just know what's happening yet,
but the big nigger seems ter be raisin' hell. Carlson is a holdin' him
back with his cutlass."
"Open up and let me down."
I fell, rather than clambered along the rungs of the ladder, coming to
my feet on deck in the midst of a group of angry men, who had Carlson
pinned against the bulkhead. The light was so poor I could scarcely
see their faces; a babel of voices greeted me, and more than one hand
gripped me fiercely as the excited owner yelped a demand to know what
in hell we were up to. I roughly cleared a space, aided by Carlson's
cutlass, and fronted them defiantly. Towering above them all, his
black apelike face, distorted with rage, I distinguished the giant
Cochose, his immense hands grasping a wooden bar ripped from a bunk.
Plainly enough he was the leader, the one man whose ascendency I must
crush, and I meant to do it, then and there. This was no job I could
turn over to others; if I was to rule, this black brute must be
conquered at the very start, conquered by my own hands, and in the
presence of his mates. Here, in this black forecastle, we must fight
it out, breast to breast, as savagely as beasts of the jungle, to the
bitter end. I made the resolve, with teeth clenched, and every muscle
throbbing with eagerness.
"Stand back there lads," I said sternly, my eyes searching their
faces, and with pistol poised threateningly. "Give us room. I'll
explain all that has happened presently, but first I am going to lick
that black brute within an inch of his life. Step out of there,
Cochose."
He came grinning widely, balancing the heavy club in his hands.
"You mean me, sah? You all think yer kin lick me?"
"Yes, I think so; I'll try it anyway. Here Carlson, take this pistol
and sheath knife. If anyone interferes shoot him. All I ask is fair
play. Drop that club, Cochose, and throw away your knife. You and I
will fight this out with bare hands."
His dull brain worked slowly, and he stared at me, his eyes ugly, his
grin becoming savage with a display of teeth. His silence and lack of
response, awoke a growl from the impatient circle of men behind. One
fellow kicked the club out of his hand contemptuously, and another
plucked the knife from his belt.
"You big skulker," the latter said, with an oath of derision, "go on,
and fight! What in hell are you afraid of?"
"What for Ah fight this white man? Ah don't even know who he is."
"Then I'll tell you. Estada is dead; Manuel is a prisoner. I'm in
command of this bark, and I am going to give you a lesson for the
benefit of the crew. You are a big, boasting cur! I heard what you
said when I came down, and now I'll make you prove it. You other
fellows stand back--I'll make this beast fight."
I took two steps forward, my advance so swift and unexpected, the big
negro had not even time in which to throw up an arm in defense. With
open hand I struck him squarely across the face, an insulting,
stinging blow.