Trouble of Another Kind.
"That was a close call," exclaimed Rucker, as a shot cut away one of
the jib stays, carrying down the flying jib.
Even as he spoke the film of the fog enveloped them, and though the
sloop of war continued to fire, her shots did no further damage, for
the Wanderer almost immediately lost sight of her pursuer.
Gary then had the course altered to disconcert the aim of the corvette,
which soon after ceased firing.
The breeze that bore the fog with it, was a light one, and as the mist
was liable to rise at any time the captain made the most of his
opportunity by carrying all the sail he could spread. He dared not
return to the coast, bad as he needed water; for the alarm once given,
other cruisers would be on the watch there. So he determined to make
for the Cape Verdes, and risk the chance of being able to water in
those islands. Should no prying war ships happen along he anticipated
little difficulty.
The day wore away slowly. It was about an hour by sun in the afternoon
before the fog began to lift. A sailor was at each mast head watching
for the Adams, as the course of the corvette was entirely unknown.
"Sail ho!" sang out one of these lookouts as the mist, rolling
eastward, began to show a clear horizon towards the north.
In a minute both captain and mate were aloft. There was the Adams
about four miles away, and somewhat astern to the lee quarter. Almost
at the same time the Wanderer was observed from the cruiser, as the
latter began to pile up her canvas with a rapidity that evinced a
sudden cause therefor. As the mate returned to the deck Gary called:
"Ease away, Mr. Rucker. We've got just the wind that suits us, and I
think we have the advantage this time."
With the light breeze that continued, and with the sheets free, the
Wanderer was at her best. By the time the sun went down it could be
seen that the war ship was losing ground.
When night closed in she was fully five miles astern. With a heavier
wind the advantage would have been on her side, but as it was, when
morning dawned the Adams was not in sight.
After that came several days of light, baffling winds, alternating with
calms. The sun, as they drew nearer the equator, became more and more
unbearable.
In the close hold the heat and stench were frightful. The constant
cries for water rendered the crew nervous and the captain irritable.
He now punished the men severely for the slightest infraction of duty.
"If we don't reach the Verdes," said Duff to Ralph one day, as the lad
was sweeping the cabin, "there will be an outbreak of some kind. Come
to the gangway and listen."
The second mate, who still remained below--his place being taken by
Bludson after a fashion--now led Ralph to the grated door where stood
the loaded howitzer. The sentry was not there; another sign of the
crew's demoralization. He had slipped into one of the store rooms, now
left unlocked, to tap a water butt unseen, for all hands were on short
water rations.
When Duff and the boy halted, they could hear a sort of rasping sound
from underneath like the boring or cutting of wood.
"What is that?" asked Ralph.
"Mischief," said the mate sententiously. "Those wretches in the hold
are up to some trickery. These stupid sentries are too dull or
careless to investigate. They are crazy for water in there, and it is
my opinion they have got hold of something and are trying to cut a way
out--God knows where!--perhaps through the bottom of the vessel."
"Suppose you tell the captain."
"He is that obstinate he'd simply curse me, and probably give no heed.
But some one else might speak with better effect."
"Do you think I had better?"
Ralph spoke doubtfully, realizing that he also was no favorite with
Gary.
"You might bring it about in some way. I certainly owe Captain Gary no
favors, yet I should hate to stand by and see those fiends cut their
way out, and say nothing. They would murder every soul on board."
Later on, Ralph found a chance to tell the captain what Duff had told
him. Gary's scowl deepened.
"Duff told you this, did he?" demanded the skipper suspiciously. "Out
with the truth."
Ralph acknowledged that the second mate was his informant.
"Stuff! Haven't we a sentry there constantly?"
"But the sentry isn't always at his post, so Mr. Duff says. He was
away today when we heard the noises."
"And you heard them, too! The mate tattling to the cabin boy, and both
peaching on the poor sentry, who is, I dare say, more trusty than
either one of you two. Go forward, and stay there until you are bidden
back. Rank mutiny, by thunder!"
Gary stamped his foot, more with the air of one demented than that of a
sane and sober commander. Indeed the situation was sufficiently grave
without this new complication.
Several of the negroes had already died, and more were down helpless
beneath the feet of their thirst-tortured but more able-bodied fellow
sufferers. The howls and lamentations that continually ascended
through the grating were trying to the nerves, aside from
considerations of profit and loss. The combined effect on Gary was to
render him more unreasonable and tyrannical than ever.
Oh, for more wind! They were hardly up into the trades yet, and at
that season, even the trades were uncertain.
But it was certain that unless enough favorable wind did come, and come
soon, they would hardly reach the Cape Verdes in time. Already crew,
negroes and all, were down to one pint of water to the man every
twenty-four hours. In that hot and stifling weather their tortures
grew almost unbearable.
One night Rucker, happening to want a night glass, left the deck for a
moment to go below for it, and passing close to the sleepy sentry, he
heard the same sounds which had aroused Duff's suspicions. After
Ralph's rebuff the second mate had made no further attempt to have the
thing investigated.
"What's that?" said he sharply to the sailor, who sat leaning against
the bulkhead, but the man made no answer.
Rucker shook him sharply, and at the same time scented the odor of
liquor about the fellow.
"Wake up. What have you been drinking? What noise is that?"
But receiving only unintelligible replies, and having to return
immediately to his watch on deck, he reported the circumstances to the
captain, who broke into a storm of invective. Rucker discreetly
withdrew.
Shortly thereafter Duff heard from his stateroom an uproar in the
gangway. Looking out, he saw the captain standing over the prostrate
form of the sentry, whom he had knocked down with the man's own gun.
One of the storeroom doors was open.
"I see now!" foamed Gary, nearly beside himself. "You fellows on watch
have been tapping this rum barrel night and day, I reckon, and mischief
going on right under your feet. But I'll even you up. Where is the
bo's'n?"
Receiving no answer to this last shouted demand, Gary sprang up the
stairway, leaving the insensible sentry stretched upon the floor.
Duff, still watching from his stateroom through the open cabin door,
saw a gaunt, dusky face thrust itself from the storeroom and peer
wildly round. Other faces joined it, and in an instant a dozen naked
black forms were crowding the gangway.
They saw Duff. Several made for him, brandishing short chains from
their fetters, which they had managed somehow to loosen and sever.
Others beat the sentry's brains out, and overthrew the howitzer.
The noise thus made, and Duff's loud calls to alarm the ship, caused
Rucker and one or two seamen to run hastily down the companionway.
Being unarmed they were forced into the cabin or back up the gangway,
by a horde of frantic savages, who were being continually reinforced
from the hold by way of the two holes, which they had somehow cut
through the bulkhead into the storeroom, where among other things, was
the barrel of rum.
The drinking must have been going on secretly for a day or two. In
fact others of the crew were now discovered to be tipsy, and that the
officers had not found it out before was doubtless owing to the growing
laxness of discipline, despite the captain's severity.
Gary, accompanied by Bludson and others, now appeared, armed with
pistols and cutlasses; but the door leading into the hold was already
broken down. Scores of half crazy negroes swarmed into the gangway,
bearing back the whites by sheer weight of numbers, notwithstanding the
weapons of the crew. Revolver and cutlass played an active part, but
the slaves seemed absolutely indifferent to life.
When one was shot down, half a dozen took his place. Even the few
women fought like tigresses. The truth was they were crazed for want
of water.
In the cabin, Rucker and one seaman had been literally torn limb from
limb. The remaining man escaped into the captain's room.
Duff, who was without weapons, clambered through the stern window of
his room, and gained the deck by way of the vessel's stern post and a
rope thrown him by Ralph, who had been summoned to the wheel when the
alarm was given. The lad was chafing at his inactivity.
"There's hardly any breeze," said Duff. "Lash the wheel, my lad, and
bear a hand. If those niggers gain the deck we're gone up sure."
It was but the task of a moment to obey, seize a cutlass from the rack
and follow the mate to the companion-way, where Gary and what was left
of the men with him were being forced up the steps.
The captain was covered with blood from a scalp wound, but he was equal
to several ordinary men. Skillfully parrying the blows directed at his
life, he had laid more than one burly savage low.
But the number and fury of the yelling crowd were irresistible.
Seizing the weapons of their dead and wounded assailants, they fought
with the blind energy of desperation.
"Batten down the main hatch," called Gary, seeing Duff and Ralph.
"Bludson is gone, but we can hold them until you return."
The order was swiftly executed. Then the second mate and Ralph,
assisted by one sailor, brought forward the heavy storm covering of the
after companion-way and placed it in readiness. A charge down was then
made and the negroes driven back a little.
"Now, men," cried Gary, springing up to the deck, at the rear of his
men, "down with it! Jump on it, and batten her--batten her!"
With both hatches thus secured, they were in undisputed possession of
the deck, though the whole interior of the ship, except the forecastle,
was at the mercy of the negroes. The triumphant howls of the latter
were deafening.
Suddenly a shriek was heard. The savages had entered the captain's
stateroom and fallen upon the sailor who had taken refuge there.
On deck Gary counted his help. He found that besides Bludson and
Rucker five sailors were missing. His available force, including
himself, Duff and Ralph, amounted only to ten.
Two of these were desperately wounded, one having his throat actually
torn by the teeth of the cannibals below.
The arms were mostly on deck, but the ammunition, provisions, and most
of their scanty supply of water was below.
They were in a terrible situation. What deed of desperation the
negroes might do it was impossible to tell. There were matches; they
might fire the ship. There was the rum; they might still gain the
upper hand of all, when nerved and further crazed by liquor.
Two lanterns shed a melancholy light fore and aft. The wind had died
away and the heavens were sprinkled with stars.
Gary placed two men fully armed, at each hatch, then called the rest to
the quarter-deck for a consultation. He was calm, cool, yet heartless
and vindictive as ever.
Without caring for the men already sacrificed, he seemed only anxious
to save his vessel and as many of his mutinous victims as he might now
be able to carry into port. For Duff and Ralph he, even now, scarcely
veiled his dislike as he sat upon the hatch, binding his wounded head
with a handkerchief.
But before much was said, a sailor ran back crying:
"This way! This way! The fiends are after us again."