HUNTING THE NOANK.
An army in garrison will surely spend money, officers and men. So will
a fleet in port. The British camps, upon and near Manhattan Island
contained thousands of soldiers, and the warships on the station, or
arriving and departing, were numerous. There was sure to be, upon
almost any day, enough of "shore leave" or camp leave given, and the
streets of New York City were often even brilliant with uniforms. The
burnt district could already show many new buildings, mostly shops and
warehouses, and the streets were clear of rubbish. The merchants and
shopkeepers were said to be doing very well; some of them were making
fortunes out of the needs of the king's forces. In the social life of
the town there had been a notable change. Rich loyalists from the
interior had fled to New York for safety. All the old houses were
occupied, in one way and another. Some new ones were built or
building. There was a great deal of dinner giving and the like. On
the whole, therefore, the ruined city was beginning a new and very
peculiar era of prosperity. This was to continue, during the years of
the war, to such a degree that upon the return of peace all things
would be in readiness for rapid commercial development.
The harbor, with so many ships in it that were all at anchor, wore a
frosty, sleepy look, one winter morning. Boats were pulling here and
there, from ship to ship, or between the ships and the shore. The
morning gun had long since sounded, and the reveilles at the forts and
camps. All the flags and pennants were drooping upon their staffs in
the still, cold air, and nowhere did any sails appear to be spreading.
Upon the after deck of one elderly looking three-master stood a man who
was evidently taking a thoughtful survey of her.
"Levtenant," he said, to a British naval officer standing near him,
"this 'ere craft is ready for sea."
"I've brought your sailing orders, then," said the officer. "The
sooner you're off, the better."
"Jest so!" said Captain Luke Watts. "They all tell me she isn't a bad
one to go. I'm goin' to give her all the chances that are in her. I
ain't in any hurry for a return cargo, though. I've had one lesson."
"Pretty narrow escape, they say," said the lieutenant. "It wasn't your
fault, though. You'll be taking return cargoes from New York to
Liverpool, before long. This war's nearly over."
"Guess it is," said Watts, "but it'll be spring before anything more
can be done with Mr. Washington."
"Cornwallis'll catch him, then," was the confident rejoinder. "The old
Virginia fox can hole away among his Jersey hills for a few weeks
longer. Then Cornwallis promises to dig him out."
"Oh, he'll do that, fast enough," said Watts. "I s'pose, if I ever git
back, I may find him a prisoner in New York. My first business,
though, is to git this craft across the Atlantic. I'm to have a thin
crew and no guns, and I've to depend on my sails altogether. There are
risks."
"Can't help it," said the lieutenant, "and you mustn't lose her."
"You may tell the admiral," answered Watts, a little sharply, "that if
I don't, he may have me shot."
"I'll tell him so."
"It's Liverpool or my neck!" said Watts, emphatically. "Tell him I'll
take the northerly course, weather or no weather, out o' the way o'
pirates, and he needn't be uneasy."
The carrying of that report to the captain of the port yet more firmly
established the confidence which was reposed in the loyalty of Captain
Watts. He was to be allowed to use his own judgment very freely, and
he was likely to have continuous employment as a Tory commander of
British ships.
There was hardly any cargo worth speaking of in the hold of the
_Termagant_. She was going home in ballast. British commerce with the
colonies was entirely cut off, and this of itself was a severe war blow
to the mother country, equivalent to many defeats of her armies in the
field. American commerce itself, however, although terribly assailed,
was all the while on the increase. Up to the outbreak of the war,
everything produced for export in the colonies had to go out under
British restriction, whether directly to England or otherwise. All
that did not do so escaped by adventurous processes of a smuggling
description, and the amount of it was limited. Now, for instance, the
tobacco of Virginia and the Carolinas, when it could get out at all,
could be sold in any port of Europe which it might reach. The West
India Islands, also, were ready to take wheat to any amount, paying for
it in sugar, molasses, rum, cash, tobacco, or fruits. The war laws of
nations and the existing treaties, even if these were strictly adhered
to, were not in such a shape as to hinder France or Holland or Spain
from opening trade relations, hardly concealed, with the revolted
colonies of Great Britain. All the politics of Europe were in a
dreadfully mixed, uncertain condition, and what was called peace was
very like a war in the bud that promised to become full blown before a
great while.
The greatest of all hinderances to American prosperity did not belong
to the war at all. It was the absence of good facilities for inland
transportation. The roads were bad, and little was doing to make them
better. The natural watercourses, rivers, bays, and sounds, were of
great value, but they did not exist in many places where they were
needed. Washington's army almost starved to death, simply because
there were no railways, not even macadamized roads, by means of which
he could receive the abundant supplies which his fellow-patriots in
numberless localities were eagerly ready to send him. Large amounts of
produce, year after year, rotted on the ground among the up-country
farms of all the states, because the cost of wagoning was too great, or
the roads were impassable, or the markets did not exist.
While this was the condition of things on the land, not only in
America, but in all other countries, there was a scourge of the sea
that was almost as hurtful to commerce as was privateering itself.
Piracy had been fought out of large parts of the ocean, only making an
occasional appearance, but in other parts it held an only half-disputed
sway. One consequence was that the mere dread of the black flag kept
out commercial enterprise almost altogether from a large number of
promising fields. The fact was, that every case of a vessel lost at
sea and not heard from, and of these there were many, was sure to be
charged over to the account of piracy, so that the actual evil was made
to appear much greater than its reality.
A severe check had been given to the slave trade at first by the
closing of its North American market, only a few human cargoes, if any,
being delivered among the colonies during the Revolutionary War. On
the other hand, the dealers in black labor were encouraged by a
steadily increasing demand from the British and Spanish islands, and
from South America.
So entirely different was the ocean world, therefore, from what it is
to-day, and so easy does it become to form wrong ideas concerning
old-time war and peace on sea and land.
The Yankee privateer, the _Noank_, Captain Lyme Avery commanding, had
indeed left a large British fleet behind her, and all the sea was
before her. Conversations between her commander and his very
free-spoken subordinates, however, revealed the fact that what might be
called her commission as a ship of war was exceedingly roving. Even
that very next morning, as he and his mate stood forward, anxiously
scanning the horizon, the latter inquired:--
"Lyme,--I say! How'd it do to tack back and try to cut out one o' them
supply ships?"
"Too risky, altogether," replied the captain. "South! South! I say.
We mustn't hang 'round here. There are more ships runnin' between Cuby
and Liverpool than there ever was before."
"Fact!" said Sam. "The British can't git their tobacker from the
colonies any more. They git a first-rate article from the Spaniards,
though, and they have to pay tall prices for it."
"That's it," said Avery. "I want to run one o' those fine-leaf cargoes
into New London. Good as gold and silver to trade with. I'd a leetle
ruther have sugar, though, full cargo, ship and all, with plenty o'
molasses."
Others of the schooner's company chimed in, agreeing generally with the
captain, and it looked more and more as if the immediate errand of the
_Noank_ might be considered settled. She herself was going ahead very
well, and was in fine condition.
Away forward, at the heel of the bowsprit, with no sailor duty pressing
him just now, loafed Guert Ten Eyck. He had borrowed a telescope from
Vine Avery, and he had been using it until he grew tired of searching
the horizon in vain, and he had shut it up. He was feeling just a
little homesick, perhaps, after the over-excitement of the previous
days. He was thinking of his mother rather than of stunning successes
as a young privateersman.
"Wouldn't I like to see her this morning!" he was thinking. "I'd like
to tell her and the rest how we beat that British fleet--"
"Ugh!" exclaimed a voice at his elbow. "Boy no lookout! Go to sleep!
Wake up! Up-na-tan take glass!"
Guert's dulness vanished, and he at once straightened up, for the
contemptuous tone of the old Manhattan stung him a little. He had not
been stationed there by any order, as a responsible watchman, but the
old redskin was unable to understand how any fellow on a warpath,
whether in the woods or upon the water, could at any moment be
otherwise than looking out for his enemies. His own keen eyes were
continually busy without any mental effort or any official
instructions. He now took the telescope and began to use it
methodically. Around the circle of the sea it slowly turned, until it
suddenly became fixed in a north-westerly direction.
"Sail O!" he sang out. "Where cap'n?"
"Here I am!" came up the forward hatchway. "Where away? What do you
make her out?"
"Nor-nor-west!" called back the Indian. "Square tops'l. No see 'em
good, yet. Man-o'-war come."
"Jest as like as not," said Captain Avery. "Shouldn't wonder if they'd
sent a cruiser after us. Hurrah, boys! A stern chase is a long chase,
but that isn't the first thing on hand. Sam! I was down at the
barometer. There's a blow comin'! Worst kind! All hands to shorten
sail! Lower those topsails!"
It was a somewhat unexpected order for a crew to receive if an enemy's
cruiser were indeed so close upon their heels, and there was hardly a
cloud in the steel-blue winter sky. It was obeyed, however, the men
passing from one to another the discovery of Up-na-tan while they
tugged at their ropes and canvas.
Guert sprang away aloft, for this was a part of his seamanship, in
which the captain was compelling him to take pretty severe lessons.
"You'll have to be on a square-rigged ship, one of these days," he had
told him. "I want you to know 'bout a schooner before you get away
from her. But you'll find there's an awful difference 'twixt the
handlin' o' the _Noank_ and a full-rigged three-master. You'll need
heaps and heaps o' sea schoolin'."
Guert was very well aware of that, from more tongues than one, and Sam
Prentice was also beginning to put him through a mathematical course of
the study of navigation. This, in fact, had begun during the long
months of inactivity at New London, and he had been much helped in it
by his Quaker friend, Rachel Tarns. He was to be of some use, one of
these days, she had told him; and a fellow who did not know how to
navigate could never become a sea-captain. An ignorant chap, a mere
sailor, must serve before the mast all his life.
In came the clouds of canvas, all but a reefed mainsail and foresail
and a jib.
"She's safe, now, I think," said the captain. "I guess I'll go down
and take another look at that glass. It kind o' startled me, it was
goin' down so. Sam, how's the stranger?"
"Heading for us, I'd say," called back the mate. "She's a
three-master, too. She's carryin' all sail, just now. If there's a
heavy blow a comin', she may throw away some of her sticks."
"She may do worse'n that," said the captain, "if she cracks on too much
canvas. We won't, though."
Down below he hastened, and now Up-na-tan was pointing at something
white and hazy well up in the eastern sky. Every old salt on board was
quickly watching what appeared to be, at first, a change of color from
blue to gray. Some of them were shaking their heads gravely.
"It's the wrong time o' year," said one, "for that sort o' thing. I
know 'em. They're jest crushers. Tell ye what. If it's that kind o'
norther, it'll drop down awful sudden when it gits here. Lyme Avery
hasn't been a mite too kerful. He knows what he's about."
"There's odds in storms," replied a grizzled whaler near him. "I've
seen a Hull trader knocked all to ruins in ten minutes by one o' them
fellers. Every stick was blown out of her, and she foundered before
sundown."
"Look out sharp for all the gun fastenings!" shouted the captain, as he
again came hurriedly on deck. "Up-na-tan, you and Coco guy that
pivot-gun, hardest kind. This boat's likely to be doin' some pitchin'
and rollin' pretty soon. There'll be an awful sea. Where's that
Englishman?"
"Wait a bit," said Up-na-tan. "Ole chief give lobster one shot."
"All right," said the captain. "She's in good range now. Have your
extra gearings ready to clap on. This schooner has weathered all sorts
o' gales, but it won't do to let her git caught nappin'."
There had been more than a little surprise on board King George's fine
frigate _Clyde_, of thirty-six guns. There had been a group of
seaman-like officers upon her quarter-deck at about the time she was
discovered by Up-na-tan. Marine glasses were at work in the hands of
more than one of those gentlemen, and the express reason for it
appeared in their conversation.
The _Clyde_ was a cruiser somewhat noted for her speed. She had been
of the convoy of the fleet through which the _Noank_ had so cunningly
worked her way, and had been at once detailed to chase the saucy
privateer. This was decidedly pleasanter than guarding slow
merchantmen, and the frigate's commander had congratulated himself
heartily.
"If we don't strike her, we may pick up something else," he had
remarked, adding: "I think I can make out the course she's most likely
to take. Two to one, she's bound for the Havana, to harry our West
India trade. We'll keep a sharp lookout."
So he did, and he had been rewarded even sooner than he had expected.
"Right under our noses," he had said, when the discovery of the
schooner was announced. "We can outsail her."
"Captain!" interrupted his next in command, excitedly. "If she isn't
taking in sail! What can that mean?"
"She may take us for something else," said the captain. "It's a fine
breeze. She couldn't think of fighting us."
"Not a bit of it," said the officer; but his commander was an old,
experienced sea-captain, and the queer conduct of his intended prize
set him to thinking.
He walked up and down the deck during about half a minute, and then he
began to look up curiously at the sky.
"That's it!" he shouted, his whole manner changing suddenly. "The
Yankees are right! All hands! Shorten sail!"
He poured rapid orders through his trumpet, while his lieutenants and
other officers sprang away to their duties, leaving him almost alone
upon the quarter-deck.
"It's plain enough what it means," he said aloud. "There's trouble
coming; we must in with every rag. This ship's too light, anyhow, for
a hurricane. The men don't know it, but they may be working for their
lives. All right! Things are coming in fast enough. I'll get that
schooner, too, wind or no wind."
As yet, there was only a fresh breeze to take note of, so far as a
landsman could have discerned. There was no actual excitement among
the sailors of the _Clyde_, merely because of a change in the color of
the sky. Some of them, however, had sailed as many seas as had their
captain or the whalers of the _Noank_, and they were freely expressing
to their comrades their approval of his prudence. All were working,
therefore, with an uncommon degree of energy. Their ways and their
performances would have been, if he could have seen them, a very
instructive lesson to Guert Ten Eyck. He would have learned much
concerning the differences between a square-rigged three-master and a
schooner like the _Noank_.
During this somewhat brief and exceedingly busy time, the two vessels
had steadily approached each other. The first officer of the _Clyde_
had attended to his taking in and reefing, and he now stood once more
before his captain.
"The prize is within long range, sir."
"All right, Mr. Watson. Give her a gun. We must take her or sink her."
"Best sink her, sir. It's not safe to send off a boat. Most likely
she's heavily armed, sir."
"No," said the captain, "no boat. We're short-handed, anyhow. We'll
not sink her if we can help it. One thing I'm after is to overhaul her
crew."
"You are right, sir," laughed the lieutenant. "A shot may bring her
to."
There was more than one element, therefore, in the supposable value of
the _Noank_, considered as the prize of the British frigate, _Clyde_.
Out ran one of the latter's port guns, shotted. It was well aimed,
too, whether or not it was intended mainly as a sharp command to
surrender. Its heavy shot went whizzing between the schooner's raking
masts, doing no actual damage, but serving as a serious warning.
"A little lower!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "That was closer than I
expected. Up-na-tan! Let 'em have it!"
He had but just given the order to go about, and the _Noank_ was almost
as good as standing still, while the red man sighted his gun. His
marksmanship was a shade better, too, than that of the British gunner.
Such a response, or any at all with a gun, had been utterly unexpected
by all on board the _Clyde_.
"Hit us?" gasped the captain. "We are struck? Was there ever such
impudence! See what that is!"
"The port o' th' capt'n's cab'n!" shouted a sailor. "It's mashed, sir!
And 'ere comes th' wind, sir!"
There had been a crash of wood and glass at the closed port-hole, and
from that the Indian's iron messenger had gone on through the cabin
door. All to bits flew a great swinging lantern in the saloon, and a
wide gap was made in the woodwork of the state-room opposite. This had
been closely packed with dinner-table delicacies, including many cases
of wine. Sad work was therefore made of the costly juice of the grape,
whether purchased or captured. A small flood of it, as red as blood,
but not as horrible, came streaming out to tell of the bottle-breaking.
"'Orrid waste, sir!" groaned the captain's steward, as he gazed upon
that crimson rivulet. "'E could ha' dined the fleet on 'alf o' that.
I'll not forgive they Yonkees!"
"Give 'em a broadside!" roared the angry lieutenant on deck.
"No!" as loudly commanded the cool and prudent captain, adding to his
friend: "Not just now, my boy. Call all hands to quarters. It'll be
hold hard, in a few minutes. Ease her! Ease her! Starboard your
helm! Steady all! Here it comes!"
He was a prime good seaman, that captain of the _Clyde_, and he was at
that moment looking aloft to see his maintopsail blown to leeward.
"I'm glad it went!" he exclaimed. "Good luck! since they couldn't get
it in. That'll relieve the strain on the topmast. It wouldn't ha'
stood it."
Other sails threatened to follow, however, and the frigate was
beginning to reel and pitch unpleasantly, although no very heavy sea
had yet risen. The sky overhead was all one whiteness, but low down,
northeasterly, it was blackening. The wind that came was bitterly cold
and cutting, as well as resistlessly strong. On board the _Noank_ all
had been made ready for its arrival, and the schooner showed at once
the excellence of her modelling. She leaned over, under her closely
reefed mainsail, with a mere apron of a jib, and sped away southerly at
a rate which her square-rigged pursuer was not at all likely to rival.
The captain of the _Clyde_ watched her, as he clung tightly to his
lashings at the foot of his mizzenmast, using his telescope as best he
could, and making remarks as calmly as if he had been contemplating a
horse-race.
"I'll say one thing for the Yankees," he said. "We can take lessons
from them in light ship building. That's a good one. I wish I had the
sailors that are handling her. They turn out some o' the best seamen
afloat. Worth twenty apiece of some that were sent to me."
He was himself a fine specimen of the race of vikings who have made
England the queen of the seas. Nowhere have they ever been more highly
appreciated than among their cousins of the New World, and their many
achievements are a part of our own ancestral inheritance.
For the immediate present, at least, the _Noank_ was safe, so far as
the British navy might be concerned.
"Guert!" said Up-na-tan, when their watch below brought them together.
"Look ole brack man! Coco no like cole wind. Like 'em warm.
Up-na-tan no care! Ugh! Want _Noank_ run south. No freeze hard."
Poor Coco had indeed been shivering pitifully when he came down from
the deck. Not all the experiences he had had during many northern
winters had prepared his Ashantee constitution to enjoy a norther.
In fact, moreover, there was not an old whale catcher on board who did
not now and then congratulate himself that the schooner was steering
toward the tropics, and would soon leave behind her that fierce,
destructive river of dry, penetrating polar air.