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[Illustration: THIS LEAN, STRAIGHT ROVER LOOKED THE PART OF A COMPETENT
SOLDIER]
BLACKBEARD BUCCANEER
_By_ RALPH D. PAINE
[Illustration]
_Illustrated by
Frank E. Schoonover_
THE PENN PUBLISHING
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
COPYRIGHT
1922 BY
THE PENN
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
Blackbeard: Buccaneer
Made in the U. S. A.
Contents
I. THAT COURTEOUS PIRATE, CAPTAIN BONNET 7
II. THE MERCHANT TRADER, _PLYMOUTH ADVENTURE_ 21
III. HELD AS HOSTAGES TO BLACKBEARD 43
IV. THE CAPTIVE SEAMEN IN THE FORECASTLE 62
V. RELEASING A FEARFUL WEAPON 79
VI. THE VOYAGE OF THE LITTLE RAFT 99
VII. THE MIST OF THE CHEROKEE SWAMP 114
VIII. THE EPISODE OF THE WINDING CREEK 132
IX. BLACKBEARD'S ERRAND IS INTERRUPTED 147
X. THE SEA URCHIN AND THE CARPENTER'S MATE 161
XI. JACK JOURNEYS AFOOT 177
XII. A PRIVATE ACCOUNT TO SETTLE 189
XIII. OUR HEROES SEEK SECLUSION 203
XIV. BLACKBEARD APPEARS IN FIRE AND BRIMSTONE 217
XV. MR. PETER FORBES MOURNS HIS NEPHEW 232
XVI. NED RACKHAM'S PLANS GO MUCH AMISS 248
XVII. THE GREAT FIGHT OF CAPTAIN TEACH 260
XVIII. THE OLD BUCCANEER IS LOYAL 274
XIX. THE QUEST FOR PIRATES' GOLD 288
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THIS LEAN, STRAIGHT ROVER LOOKED THE PART OF A COMPETENT
SOLDIER _Frontispiece_
THE BRAWN OF THESE LADS MADE THE PIKE A MATCH FOR A
PIRATE'S CUTLASS 83
THE FIRST MATE LEAPED UP WITH A HORRIBLE YELL 120
JACK ALMOST BUMPED INTO THE DUGOUT CANOE 129
THEY CAPERED AND HUGGED EACH OTHER 164
HE LOOMED LIKE THE BELIAL WHOM HE WAS SO FOND OF CLAIMING
AS HIS MENTOR 224
[Illustration]
Blackbeard: Buccaneer
CHAPTER I
THAT COURTEOUS PIRATE, CAPTAIN BONNET
THE year of 1718 seems very dim and far away, but the tall lad who
sauntered down to the harbor of Charles Town, South Carolina, on a fine,
bright morning, was much like the youngsters of this generation. His
clothes were quite different, it is true, and he lived in a queer, rough
world, but he detested grammar and arithmetic and loved adventure, and
would have made a sturdy tackle for a modern high-school football team.
He wore a peaked straw hat of Indian weave, a linen shirt open at the
throat, short breeches with silver buckles at the knees, and a
flint-lock pistol hung from his leather belt.
He passed by scattered houses and stores which were mere log huts
loopholed for defense, with shutters and doors of hewn plank heavy
enough to stop a musket ball. The unpaved lanes wandered between mud
holes in which pigs wallowed enjoyably. Negro slaves, half-naked and
bearing heavy burdens, jabbered the dialects of the African jungle from
which they had been kidnapped a few months before. Yemassee Indians clad
in tanned deer-skins bartered with the merchants and hid their hatred of
the English. Jovial, hard-riding gentlemen galloped in from the indigo
plantations and dismounted at the tavern to drink and gamble and fight
duels at the smallest excuse.
Young Jack Cockrell paid scant heed to these accustomed sights but
walked as far as the wharf built of palmetto piling. The wide harbor and
the sea that flashed beyond the outer bar were ruffled by a piping
breeze out of the northeast. The only vessel at anchor was a heavily
sparred brig whose bulwarks were high enough to hide the rows of cannon
behind the closed ports.
The lad gazed at the shapely brig with a lively curiosity, as if here
was something really interesting. Presently a boat splashed into the
water and was tied alongside the vessel while a dozen of the crew
tumbled in to sprawl upon the thwarts and shove the oars into the
thole-pins. An erect, graceful man in a red coat and a great beaver hat
roared a command from the stern-sheets and the pinnace pulled in the
direction of the wharf.
"Pirates, to be sure!" said Jack Cockrell to himself, without a sign of
alarm. "'Tis Captain Stede Bonnet and his _Royal James_. I know the
ship. I saw her when she came in leaking last October and was careened
on the beach at Sullivan's Island. A rich voyage this time, for the brig
rides deep."
The coast of South Carolina swarmed with pirates two hundred years ago,
and they cared not a rap for the law. Indeed, some of these rascals
lived on friendly terms with the people of the small settlements and
swaggered ashore to squander the broad gold pieces and merchandise
stolen from honest trading vessels. You must not blame the South
Carolina colonists too harshly because they sometimes welcomed the
visiting pirates instead of clapping them in jail. Charles Town was a
village at the edge of a wilderness filled with hostile Indians. By sea
it stood in fear of attack by the Spaniards of Florida and Havana. There
were almost no crops for food and among the population were many
runaways from England, loafers and vagabonds who hated the sight of
work.
The pirates helped them fight their enemies and did a thriving trade in
goods that were sorely needed. Respectable citizens grumbled and one
high official was removed in disgrace because he encouraged the pirates
to make Charles Town their headquarters, but there was no general outcry
unless the sea-rovers happened to molest English ships outside the
harbor.
It was Captain Stede Bonnet himself who steered the pinnace and cursed
his sweating sailors in a deep voice which went echoing across the bay.
He made a brave figure in his scarlet coat, with the brass guard of his
naked cutlass winking in the sun. His boat's crew had been mustered from
many climes and races, several strapping Englishmen, a wiry, spluttering
little Frenchman, a swarthy Portuguese with gold rings in his ears, a
brace of stolid Norwegians, and two or three coal black negroes from
Barbadoes.
They were well armed, every weapon burnished clean of rust and ready for
instant use. Some wore tarnished, sea-stained finery looted from hapless
prizes, a brocaded waistcoat, a pair of tasseled jack-boots, a plumed
hat, a ruffled cape. The heads of several were bound around with knotted
kerchiefs on which dark stains showed,--marks of a brawl aboard the brig
or a fight with another ship.
Soon a second boat moved away from the _Royal James_ and many people
drifted toward the wharf to see the pirates come ashore, but they left
plenty of room when the captain scrambled up the weedy ladder and told
his men to follow him. Charles Town felt little dread of Stede Bonnet
himself. He knew how to conduct himself as a gentleman and the story was
well known,--how he had been a major in the British army and a man of
wealth and refinement. He had left his home in Barbadoes to follow the
trade of piracy because he couldn't get along with his wife, so the
rumor ran. At any rate, he seemed oddly out of place among the dirty
rogues who sailed under the black flag.
He looked more the soldier than the sailor as he strode along the wharf,
his lean, dark visage both grim and melancholy, his chin clean shaven,
his mustachios carefully cropped. There were respectful greetings from
the crowd of idlers and a gray-haired seaman all warped with rheumatism
spoke up louder than the rest.
"Good morrow to ye, Cap'n Bonnet! I be old Sam Griscom that sailed bos'n
with you on a marchant voyage out of Liverpool. An' now you are a fine
gentleman of fortune, with moidores and pieces of eight to fling at the
gals, an' here I be, a sheer hulk on the beach."
Captain Stede Bonnet halted, stared from beneath heavy brows, and a
smile made his seamed, sun-dried face almost gentle as he replied:
"It cheers me to run athwart a true old shipmate. A slant of ill
fortune, eh, Sam Griscom? You are too old and crippled to sail in the
_Royal James_. Here, and a blessing with the gift."
The pirate skipper rammed a hand in his pocket and flung a shower of
gold coins at the derelict seaman while the crowd cheered the generous
deed. It was easy to guess why Stede Bonnet was something of a hero in
Charles Town. He passed on and turned into the street. Most of his
ruffians were at his heels but one of the younger of them delayed to pay
his compliments to a pretty girl whose manner was sweet and shy and
gentle. She had remained aloof from the crowd, having some errand of her
own at the wharf, and evidently hoped to be unobserved. Jack Cockrell
had failed to notice her, absorbed as he was in gazing his fill of
Captain Stede Bonnet.
The girl resented the young pirate's gallantry and would have fled, but
he nimbly blocked her path. Just then Jack Cockrell happened to glance
that way and his anger flamed hot. He was about to run after Captain
Bonnet and beg him to interfere but the maid's distress was too urgent.
Her blackguardly admirer was trying to slip his arm around her trim
waist while he laughingly demanded a kiss from those fair lips. She
evaded him and screamed for help.
There were lusty townsmen among those who beheld the scene but they
sheepishly stood in their tracks and were afraid to punish the insolent
pirate with his dirk and pistols. He was much taller and heavier than
Jack Cockrell, the lad of seventeen, who came of gentlefolk and was
unused to brawls with weapons. But the youngster hesitated no more than
an instant, although his own pistol lacked a flint and was carried for
show.
His quick eye spied a capstan bar which he snatched up as a cudgel.
Chivalry had taught him that a man should never reckon the odds when a
woman appealed for succor. With a headlong rush he crossed the wharf and
swung the hickory bar. The pirate dodged the blow and whipped out his
dirk which slithered through Jack's shirt and scratched his shoulder.
Undismayed, he aimed a smashing blow at the pirate's wrist and the dirk
went spinning into the water.
The rascal tugged at a pistol in his belt but it was awkward work with
his left hand and he was bewildered by this amazing attack. Before he
could clear for action, Jack smote him on the pate and the battle ended
then and there, for the pirate staggered back, missed his footing, and
toppled overboard with a tremendous splash.
Leaping to the edge of the wharf, Jack saw him bob to the surface and
strike out for shore. Then the doughty young champion ran to offer his
escort to the damsel in distress. But she had hastened to slip away from
this hateful notoriety and he saw her at the bend of the street where
she turned to wave him a grateful farewell.
He would have hastened to overtake her but just then Captain Stede
Bonnet came striding back in a temper so black that it terrified his own
men. His wrath was not aimed at Jack Cockrell, for he laid a hand upon
the lad's arm and exclaimed:
"A shrewd stroke, boy, and a mettlesome spirit! You struck him swift and
hard. 'Twould please me better if you had killed the dog."
Stede Bonnet waited with folded arms until the culprit had emerged from
the water. Jack Cockrell had punished him severely and there was no more
fight in him. His head was reeling, the blood ran into his eyes, and he
had swallowed much salt water. Captain Bonnet crooked a finger at him
and he obeyed without a word. For a moment they stood face to face, the
wretched offender trembling, the captain scowling as he said:
"And so you mistook a lady for a common serving wench, Will Brant? Would
ye have Charles Town rise and reeve the ropes about our necks? Is this
your promise of good behavior? Learn a lesson then, poor fool."
With the steel-shod butt of a pistol Stede Bonnet hit him squarely
between the eyes. He dropped without a groan and lay stretched out as if
dead. The captain kicked him once and carelessly shouted:
"Ho, men! Toss this squire o' dames into the pinnace to await our
return. And harkee, take warning."
Jack Cockrell felt almost sorry for his fallen foeman but the other
pirates grinned and did as they were told. It was a trifling episode.
Resuming his stroll to the tavern, Captain Bonnet linked Jack's arm in
his and fairly towed him along while the assorted scoundrels trooped
behind them. It was shocking company for a lad of the most respectable
connections but he felt greatly flattered by the distinction. The name
of Stede Bonnet had spread terror from the Capes of the Chesapeake to
the blue waters of the Caribbean.
"And so you were unafraid of this bullying Will Brant of mine," said the
captain, with one of his pleasant smiles. "You clipped his comb right
handsomely. And who may ye be, my brave young sprig?"
"I am John Spencer Cockrell, may it please you, sir," was the answer.
"'Twas a small thing to do for a lady. Your pirate would have been too
much for me in a fair set-to."
"Pirate? A poor word!" objected Captain Bonnet, his accents severe but
the bold eyes twinkling. "We are loyal servants of the King, sworn to do
mischief to his lawful enemies,--to wit, all ships and sailors of Spain.
For such a young gentleman adventurer as you, Master Cockrell, there is
a berth in the _Royal James_. Will ye rendezvous at the tavern and sign
your fist to the articles?"
Jack stammered that his kinfolk would never consent, at which Captain
Bonnet forbore to coax him but kept a grip on his arm as though they
were chums who could not bear to be parted. Down the middle of the
street paraded this extraordinary company, the seamen breaking into a
song which ran:
"In Bristowe I left Poll ashore,
Well stored wi' togs an' gold,
And off I go to sea for more,
A-piratin' so bold.
An' wounded in the arm I got,
An' then a pretty blow;
Comed home I find Poll's flowed away,
_Yo, ho, with the rum below!_"
Charles Town might be glad to get the pirates' gold but it seemed a
timorous welcome, for the merchants peered from their doorways like
rabbits when the hounds are loose, and nervous old gentlemen took cover
in the near-by alleys. Stede Bonnet knew how to keep his men in hand and
allowed only part of the company ashore at once. They were like
hilarious children out for a lark, capering outside the tavern to the
music of a strolling fiddler or buying horses on the spot and trying to
ride them. When they were pitched off on their heads the mirth was
uproarious.
In a field beside the tavern some townsmen were shooting at a mark for a
prize of a dressed bullock while a group of gentlemen from the
plantations were intent on a cock-fight in the tap-room. Here was rare
pastime for the frolicsome blades of the _Royal James_ and soon they
were banging away with their pistols or betting their gold-pieces on the
steel-gaffed birds, singing the louder as the bottle was passed. Captain
Stede Bonnet stayed prudently sober, ready for any emergency, his
demeanor cool and watchful while he chatted with old acquaintances.
He talked often with Jack Cockrell to whom he had taken a strong fancy,
and pressed the lad to dine with him. Jack was uneasy at being seen so
publicly with a notorious pirate but the experience was delightful
beyond words. The captain asked him many questions, twisting his
mustachios and staring down from his commanding height with an air of
friendly interest. He had found a lad after his own heart.
The seamen tired of their sport and sought new diversion. Some of them
kicked off their boots and clinched in wrestling matches for prodigal
stakes of gold and jewels. Others found girls to dance with them or
wandered off to buy useless trinkets in the shops. Jack Cockrell knew he
ought to be posting home to dinner but he was tempted to accept Stede
Bonnet's cordial bidding. Boyish friends of his hovered near and
regarded him as a hero. No pirate captain had ever deigned to notice
them.
Alas for Jack and his puffed-up pride which was doomed to a sudden fall!
There advanced from a better quarter of the town a florid, foppishly
dressed gentleman of middle age who walked with a pompous gait. He was
stout-bodied and the heat of the day oppressed him. Mopping his face
with a lace handkerchief or fanning himself with his hat, he halted now
and then in a shady spot. Very mindful of his rank and dignity was Mr.
Peter Arbuthnot Forbes, sometime London barrister, at present Secretary
to the Council of the Province.
He differed from some of his neighbors in that he abominated pirates and
would have given them short shift. A trifle near-sighted, he was quite
close to the tavern before he espied his own nephew and ward, Jack
Cockrell, in this shameful company of roisterers. The august uncle
blinked, opened his mouth, and turned as red as a lobster. Indignation
choked his speech. For his part, Jack stood dumfounded and quaking, the
picture of a coward with a guilty conscience. He would have tried to
steal from sight but it was too late.
Captain Stede Bonnet enjoyed the tableau and several of his wicked
sailors were mimicking the pompous strut of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes.
Poor Jack mumbled some explanation but his irate uncle first paid his
respects to Captain Bonnet.
"Shame to you, sirrah," he cried in a voice that shook with passion. "A
man of good birth, by all accounts, who has fallen so low as to lead
these vile gallows-birds! And you would entice this lad of mine to
follow your dirty trade?"
Captain Bonnet doffed the great beaver hat and bowed low in mocking
courtesy. He perceived that this fussy lawyer was not wholly a popinjay,
for it required courage to insult a pirate to his face. The reply was
therefore milder than expected.
"Mayhap I am painted blacker than the fact, Councilor. As for this fine
stripling who has so disgraced himself, the fault is mine. He risked his
life to save a maid from harm. The deed won my affection."
"The maids of Charles Town would need to fear no harm if more pirates
were hanged, Captain Bonnet," roundly declared Mr. Forbes, shaking his
gold-tipped cane at the freebooter.
"'Tis fortunate for me that you lack the power, my fat and petulant
gentleman," was the smiling response.
"Laugh while you may," quoth the other. "These Provinces may soon
proclaim joint action against such pests as you."
With a shrug, the Secretary turned to his crestfallen nephew and sharply
exclaimed:
"Home with you, John Cockrell. You shall go dinnerless and be locked in
your room."
The seamen guffawed at this and Jack furiously resented their ridicule.
He was on the point of rebellion as he hotly retorted:
"I am no child to be treated thus, Uncle Peter. Didn't you hear Captain
Bonnet report that I had proved myself a man? I trounced one of his own
crew, a six-foot bully with a dirk and pistols."
"A fig for that," rapped out Uncle Peter. "Your bully was drunk and
helpless, I have no doubt. Will you bandy words with me?"
With this his plump fingers closed on Jack's elbow which he used as a
handle to lead him firmly and rapidly away. Behind them pranced a limber
young negro who showed every tooth in his head. Jack heard the derisive
laughter of the pirates who had hailed him as a hero. His cup of
bitterness overflowed when it occurred to him that Captain Bonnet would
despise a lad who could be led home in custody of a dandified tyrant of
an uncle.