A PRIVATE ACCOUNT TO SETTLE
THE ship's boat was bound into the bay, probably to lie there for
daybreak, and Jack Cockrell rushed down to the beach where he set up
such a frantic hullabaloo that the sailors ceased singing and held their
breath and their oars suspended. They had come to look for Bill Saxby
and Trimble Rogers, but this was a strange voice. It was so odd a
circumstance that several of them hailed the shore with questions loud
and perplexed.
"Master John Cockrell, at your service," came back the reply. "Captain
Bonnet knows me. I am the lad that clouted a six-foot pirate of yours
for being saucy to a maid in Charles Town."
This aroused a roar of laughter and there were gusty shouts of:
"Here's that same Will Brant in the boat with us. He shakes in his boots
at the sound of ye."
"What's the game, lad? Have ye taken a ship of your own to scour the
Main?"
Jack ignored this good-natured badinage and, in dignified accents, told
them to come ashore and take him off to the _Royal James_. In this
company he had a reputation to live up to as a man of parts and valor.
They let the boat ground on the smooth sand and one of them lighted a
torch of pitch-pine splinters. The fine young gentleman who had strolled
arm-in-arm with Stede Bonnet to the tavern green was a ragged scarecrow
and bedaubed with red clay and black mud. This aroused their sympathy
before he told them of his escape from the _Revenge_ and his adventures
with Bill Saxby and the crippled buccaneer. In their turn they explained
how Captain Bonnet had sent them down the river to await the return of
the two men who were now stranded in the wilderness two days' march
distant.
"And why did your captain shift the brig from her anchorage off the
island?" asked Jack.
This amused the boat's crew who nudged each other and were evasive until
the master's mate who was in charge went far enough to say:
"A sloop came in from the Pamlico River. Our ship sought a snugger
harbor, d'ye see? There was some private business. We loaded the sloop
with hogshead of sugar, and bolts of damask, and silver ingots. His
Excellency, Governor Eden, of the North Carolina Province, turns an
honest penny now and then."
"The Governor of this Province is a partner in piracy?" cried Jack.
"Brawl it not so loud, nor spill it to Cap'n Bonnet," cautioned the
master's mate. "I confide this much to stave off your foolish questions
when ye board the ship."
There was no reason to tarry in the bay and the boat pulled out to
follow the course of the river and return in haste to the brig _Royal
James_ in her more secluded harbor. The news that Blackbeard was at his
old rendezvous within easy sail to the southward eclipsed all other
topics. And when it was learned that he had lost the two sloops of his
squadron, there was fierce delight. Although the _Revenge_ was a larger
vessel and more heavily manned and gunned, they were hilariously
confident of victory. It was a burning grudge and a private quarrel, and
fuel was added to the flame by the tidings that a score or more of
seamen had been mercilessly marooned to perish because of their
suspected preference for Captain Stede Bonnet.
When Jack Cockrell caught sight of the shapely brig as she loomed in the
morning haze, it seemed as though years had passed since he had
enviously watched her pass out over the Charles Town bar. Presently he
spied the soldierly captain on the quarter-deck, his spare figure all
taut and erect, his chin clean-shaven, his queue powdered, his apparel
fresh and in good taste. A ship is like her master and the watch was
sluicing down decks or setting up the rigging which had slackened with
the heavy dew. Jack felt ashamed to let himself be seen. This was no
place for a ragamuffin.
Captain Bonnet strode to the gangway and stared down at this bit of
human flotsam. He was quick to recognize his boyish friend and admirer
and ordered the men to lower a boatswain's chair and lift Master
Cockrell aboard. Jack was, indeed, so stiffened and sore and weary that
he had been wondering how he could climb the side of a ship.
"Tut, tut, my son, bide your time," exclaimed Stede Bonnet as they met
on deck. "Tell it later. The master's mate will enlighten me."
He led the way into the cabin which was in order and simply furnished.
One servant brewed fragrant coffee from Arabia while another made a room
ready for the guest and fetched clean clothing from the captain's chests
and a tub of hot water. And as soon as the grateful Master Cockrell had
made himself presentable, he was invited to sit down at table with the
captain and enjoy a meal of porridge and crisp English bacon and fresh
eggs from the ship's hen-coop in the long-boat and hot crumpets and
marmalade. And this after the pinched ration of mouldy salt-horse and
wormy hard-bread! Captain Bonnet lighted a roll of tobacco leaves, which
he called a _cigarro_, and puffed clouds of smoke while Master Cockrell
cleaned every dish and lamented that his skin felt too tight to begin
all over again.
He was now in a mood to relate his strange yarn, from its outset in the
ill-fated merchant trader, _Plymouth Adventure_. Eagerly he begged
information concerning her people after their shipwreck, but Captain
Bonnet had been cruising far offshore to intercept a convoy of rich
West Indiamen from Jamaica for the old country.
"I will make it my duty to set you ashore at Charles Town, Master Jack,"
said he, "and I pray you may find your good uncle alive and still vowing
to hang all rogues of pirates."
"But I must sail with you, sir, till you have saved Joe Hawkridge and
his shipmates and blown Blackbeard out of water."
"Rest easy on that," exclaimed Stede Bonnet. "Those affairs are most
urgent. My ship will drop down the river to-day, with the turn o' the
tide, and heave to long enough to land a party, six men, to go in search
of Trimble Rogers who is the apple of my eye. I shall not ask you to
join them, but you can give directions and pen a fair map, I trow."
"Gladly would I go," replied Jack, "but my poor legs wobble like your
valiant old buccaneer's. And my feet are raw."
"You have proved yourself," was the fine compliment. "I judged ye aright
when we first met."
Soon the deck above them resounded to the tramp of boots and the thump
of sheet-blocks as the brisk seamen made ready to cast the ship free.
She was in competent hands and so Stede Bonnet lingered below to enjoy
talking with the youth whose manners and breeding were like his own. In
a mood unusually confidential he confirmed Jack's earlier impressions,
that he was a pirate with a certain code of honor which reminded one of
Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest who robbed the rich and befriended the
poor. Touching on his mortal quarrel with Blackbeard, he revealed how
that traitorous ruffian had proposed a partnership while he, Stede
Bonnet, was a novice at the trade. The plot all hatched to take Bonnet's
fine ship, the _Revenge_, from him, Blackbeard had disclosed his hand at
the final conference when he said, with a sarcastic grimace:
"I see, my good sir, that you are not used to the cares and duties of
commanding a vessel, so I will relieve you of 'em."
As soon as Captain Bonnet had mended his fortunes and had the goodly
brig _Royal James_ to cruise in, his ruling purpose was to regain the
_Revenge_ from Blackbeard and at the same time wreak a proper
punishment.
"So now if we can trap this black-hearted Teach before he flits to sea,"
said Stede Bonnet, "you will see a pretty engagement, Master Cockrell.
But first we must find the score o' men that he marooned. It will be a
deed of mercy, besides affording me a stronger crew."
The brig was soon standing down the river while the landing party broke
out an ample store of provisions and powder and ball, with canvas for a
tent. The plan was for them to pitch a camp near the shore of the bay to
which they could fetch back Trimble Rogers and Bill Saxby and there wait
for their ship to return and take them off. They were ready to go ashore
when Captain Bonnet's navigator ordered the main-topsail laid aback and
the brig slowly swung into the wind. The delay was brief and no sooner
was the boat cast off than the _Royal James_ proceeded on the voyage to
Cherokee Inlet.
Clumsy as those sailing ships of two hundred years ago appear to modern
eyes, their lines were finely moulded under water and with a favoring
wind they could log a fair distance in a day's run. It goes without
saying that this tall brig was shoved along for all she was worth before
a humming breeze that made her creak, and during the night she was
reckoned to be a few miles to seaward of the sandy islands which
extended like a barrier outside of Cherokee Inlet. Jack Cockrell stood a
watch of his own, dead weary but with no thought of sleep until he could
hear the lookout shout "Land ho!"
This cry came from aloft soon after dawn. The brig moved toward the
nearest of these exposed shoals while her officers consulted a chart
spread upon the cabin roof. They were wary of running the ship aground
with Blackbeard no more than a few miles distant. So bare were these
yellow patches of sand that showed against the green water that a group
of men on any one of them would have been easily discernible. The _Royal
James_ coasted along outside of them under shortened sail but discovered
nothing to indicate a party of marooned seamen.
"But they must be out here somewhere," cried Jack Cockrell, in great
distress.
"They ought to be, for no trading vessel would take 'em off," replied
the puzzled Captain Bonnet. "And if they were towed out in boats as ye
say, Jack, these islands must ha' been where they were beached."
"But you won't give up the search, sir, without another tack past those
outermost shoals?"
"Oh, we shall rake them all, but Blackbeard may have changed that
crotchety mind of his and taken the men back to his ship."
"I fear I have seen the last of my dear Joe Hawkridge," exclaimed Jack.
"From what you tell me, the young scamp is not so easily disposed of,"
smiled Captain Bonnet. "I must haul out to sea ere long. 'Tis poor
business to let Blackbeard glimpse my spars and so take warning."
This was sad news and Jack walked away to hide his quivering lip. To
examine the islands again was a forlorn hope because already it seemed
certain that nothing alive moved on any of them. The brig passed them
closer than before as she made a long reach before turning out to sea.
It was the intention to sail in to engage Blackbeard very early the next
morning and meanwhile he would be vigilantly blockaded.
Even Jack Cockrell, hopeful to the last, was compelled to agree with the
crew of the brig that not a solitary man could be seen on these sea-girt
cays and it seemed useless to send off a boat to explore them one by
one. There would have been some stir or signal, even if men were too
weak to stand. The air was clear and from the brig's masts it was
possible to sweep every foot of sandy surface. Here was another mystery
of the sea. It occurred to Stede Bonnet to ask:
"You took it for granted they were marooned, Jack, when the boats passed
from your sight and you were hidden in the tree in the swamp. What if a
quicker death were dealt 'em?"
"That may be, sir."
The brig was leaving the coast astern. Jack moped by himself until his
curiosity was drawn to a group of seamen upon the forecastle head who
were talking loudly and pointing at something in the water, well ahead
of the ship. One vowed it was a big sea-turtle asleep, another was
willing to wager his silver-mounted pistols that it was a rum barrel,
while a third announced that he'd stake his head on its being a mermaid
or her husband. The after-deck brought a spy-glass to bear and perceived
that the thing was splashing about. The tiller was shifted to bring it
close aboard and soon Captain Bonnet exclaimed that it was, indeed, a
merman a-cruising with a cask!
Jack Cockrell scampered to the heel of the bowsprit to investigate this
ocean prodigy. And as the cask drifted nearer he saw that Joe Hawkridge
was clinging to it. There was no mistaking that dauntless grin and the
mop of carroty hair. A handy seaman tossed a bight of line over his
shoulders as he bobbed past the forefoot of the brig and he was yanked
bodily over the bulwark like a strange species of fish. Flopping on deck
he waved a skinny arm in greeting and then Jack Cockrell rushed at him,
lifted him bodily, and dragged him to the cabin.
"What ho, comrade!" said the dripping merman. "Blast my eyes, but I was
sick with worry for you. I left you in that swamp----"
"And I thought you dead, Joe. For the love o' heaven, tell me how you
fared and what----"
Captain Bonnet interfered to say:
"I treated you more courteously than this, Jack. Let us make him
comfortable."
Accepting the rebuke, Jack bustled his amazing friend into a change of
clothes and saw that he was well fed. Little the worse for his watery
pilgrimage, Joe Hawkridge explained at his leisure:
"Ned Rackham took the others away in the snow, as I tell ye, Cap'n
Bonnet, and there was I in the doleful dumps. Prayers get answered and
miracles do happen, for next day there come a-floatin' to the beach a
cask full of grub and water. Good Peter Tobey, the carpenter's mate, had
a hand in launchin' it, no doubt, but the Lord hisself steered the
blessed cask. Well, while I set a-giving thanks and thinkin' one thing
an' another, I figgered that when I'd ate all the grub and swigged the
water, I was no further along."
"And so you thought you would trust the Lord again," suggested Captain
Bonnet.
"Aye, sir, that was it. By watchin' the tides I reckoned I might drift
to another island and so work to the coast, taking my provisions with
me. There was some small line in the cask that Peter Tobey had wrapped
the stores in, and I knotted a harness about the cask that I could slip
an arm in, and off I goes when the tide sets right. But some kind of a
dratted cross-current ketched me and I'm sailin' out to sea, I finds,
without compass or cross-staff. Bound to get to London River, eh, Jack,
same as we started out on the silly little raft."
"Whew, this adventure was bad enough," cried Jack, "but when you saw Ned
Rackham's pirates in the boat, and you couldn't run away,--I wonder,
honest, Joe, you didn't die of fright."
"What for? This is no trade for a nervous wight. And now for a bloody
frolic with Blackbeard's bullies."
"There is a share of his treasure for you, Joe, as soon as we can go
find it," gleefully announced Master Cockrell. "I have the chart drawn
all true with mine own hand. Let me get it."
While the two lads pored entranced over the map of the branching creek
and the pine-covered knoll, the crew of the _Royal James_ were
overhauling weapons and clearing the ship for action. It disappointed
them to lack the twenty men whom they had expected to find marooned but
this made them no less eager for battle. Concerning Ned Rackham, there
was no feud with him or grudge to square and he could go his way in the
little trading snow without fear of molestation from Stede Bonnet.
Under cover of night the _Royal James_ worked back to the sandy islands
and anchored in the channel. One of her boats had ventured within sight
of the Inlet for a stealthy reconnaissance and reported that the
_Revenge_ was still in the harbor. Captain Bonnet was considering his
plan of attack. He said nothing about it to Jack Cockrell and his chum,
the merman, and they greedily listened to the gossip of the petty
officers or thrashed out theories of their own.
To sail boldly into the harbor was a ticklish risk to run as there was
no pilot aboard who knew the inner channel and the depths of water. All
the gunners were in favor of attempting it because they yearned to
settle it with crashing broadsides. But the battered, hairy sea-dogs who
had fought it out in hand-to-hand conflicts on the Caribbean were for
leaving the brig in safe water and sending fifty men in boats to board
the _Revenge_ at the first break of day.
In the midst of the fo'castle argument, Captain Bonnet sent for Jack
Cockrell and told him:
"You are to keep out of harm's way, my young gamecock. I have undertaken
to deliver you to your esteemed uncle with arms and legs intact, and
your head on your shoulders."
"But I am lusty enough to poke about with a pike or serve at a gun
tackle," protested the unhappy Master Cockrell.
"I expect you to obey me," was the stern mandate. "You will have
company. This Joe Hawkridge is to stay with you."
"But he is a rare hand in a fight, Captain Bonnet. You should have seen
him in the _Plymouth Adventure_."
"The boy is weak and all unstrung, though he carries it bravely, Jack.
And Blackbeard's men would take special pains to kill him as a
deserter."
By this humane verdict the two lads were shielded from peril, as far as
it lay within Stede Bonnet's power. They should have felt grateful to
him but on the contrary it made them quite peevish and they sulked by
themselves up in the bow of the ship until it was time to eat again.
Then their gnawing appetites persuaded them to forgive their considerate
host.
The pirates moved about the deck until far into the night while the
sparks flew from cutlass blades pressed to the whirling grindstone. Tubs
were filled with hand-grenades and fire-pots, the deck strewn with sand,
the magazine opened and powder passed up. Stede Bonnet was careful to
see for himself that all things were in order. At such times he was a
martinet of a soldier.
Anxiously he watched the weather signs, as did every seasoned sailor on
board. It bade fair to be a bright morning with an easterly air and this
would carry the brig into the harbor with the minimum danger of
stranding if the lead were cast often enough. Joe Hawkridge and Jack
Cockrell were of some assistance in explaining the marks and bearings of
the channel, and Captain Bonnet consulted them over the chart unrolled
upon the cabin table. He had made up his mind to sail the brig in and
risk the hazards of shoal water. When he went on deck, Jack thought of a
topic as thrilling as this imminent duel between ships and he remarked
with joyous excitement:
"Now, Joe, as soon as ever Blackbeard gets his drubbing, we beg a boat
and men and gear of Captain Bonnet and go up the creek to fish out the
treasure chest and dig in the knoll."
"Hook your fish before you fry 'em," replied the sagacious
apprentice-boy. "This scrummage with the _Revenge_ will be no dancin'
heel-and-toe. A bigger ship, more guns and men, and a Blackbeard who
will fight like a demon when he's cornered. Crazy though he may be, he
is the most dangerous pirate afloat."