THE LIVELY BEE'S PLUCK.
"'Now coil up y'r nonsense
'Bout England's great navy,
And take in y'r slack
About oak-hearted tars.'"
Sang the crew of the _Lively Bee_ as they worked hard getting ready to
proceed to sea.
Mr. Scarron, who led the song, stopped suddenly, and with a Yankee
exclamation, more forcible than polite, declared that he hoped he might
go to Davy Jones' locker if his eyes didn't see "Lieutenant Tempest
a-coming aboard the _Lively Bee_."
"Shiver my timbers, but you are right, sir," answered Mr. Watson, "and
it is a right good day for the _Lively Bee_."
It was true.
In the captain's boat, seated by the side of Vernon, was John Tempest,
who had declined the offers made by Captain Hull, and had thrown in his
fate with that of the privateer.
A hearty ringing cheer from the crew welcomed the young man on board,
and Scarron led off with the chorus, which was then so popular in the
navy:
"'Charge the can cheerily,
Send it round merrily;
Here's to our country and captains commanding.'"
"Thank you, boys! I am glad to be with you again," responded Tempest.
"But you've seen some good fighting, sir."
"Ay, ay, Scarron, and nearly got drowned," answered the young officer.
"So I heard, sir, so I heard! That was a brave Englishman, that same
captain."
"Brave, yes; but do you know, Scarron, he is now saying that the
_Guerriere_ was not in fighting trim."
"Ha, ha, ha! That is a good 'un. Why, when Rodgers' fleet was outside
New York, didn't that same Dacres send word that the _Guerriere_ could
fight and sink the whole of Uncle Sam's navy?"
"So he did, Scarron, so he did. But the _Guerriere_ is at the bottom of
the sea now."
"Now, boys!" shouted the captain, "bid good-by to your sweethearts, for
we're off to the Indies, and shall not return until we can tow some
prizes into port, and then won't we make the dollars jingle? Let us
have a rousing good chorus, Mr. Scarron, before we settle down to duty."
"'Charge the can cheerily,
Send it round merrily;
Here's to our country and captains commanding.'"
Again and again did the crew of the _Lively Bee_ repeat the chorus,
and as they sang the anchor was weighed, the sails all set, and the
privateer was skimming the water as proud and trim as ever.
"She is a taut little craft," said Vernon exultingly as he looked from
deck to rigging.
"Indeed she is, captain, and she deserves to be successful."
"As she must be."
"Whither are you bound?" asked Tempest after a long pause.
"I was thinking of the Indies. What say you?"
"I think you are right. If we want prizes we must get away from the
fleet. Any prize taken will be so much glory for the navy, so we must
work alone. Now, if we can get to Jamaica, we shall be sure to find
some rich prizes."
"Yes, all the way from a seventy-four to a big merchantman with coffee
and sugar, worth----"
"Anywhere between thirty and a hundred thousand dollars."
"The risk is great."
"That is just what we like."
The two men were well agreed, and Tempest knew that the captain of the
privateer was as stanch as ever.
For many days the _Lively Bee_ sailed over the waters without meeting
with any hostile ship, and only taking a few small prizes.
One morning Lieutenant Tempest called out suddenly:
"All hands! make sail!"
Vernon was in his cabin, but heard the order and thought his watchful
lieutenant saw a storm brewing. He hurried on deck and saw three war
vessels in the distance, with their bows pointed in the direction of
the _Lively Bee_.
"Who are they?"
"British, sir, without a doubt."
"Then we must run."
"I am afraid so, sir; we could not fight three frigates at once."
"No, no. Well, we are safe."
And he spoke rightly.
The _Lively Bee_ was in no danger. With her fine lines and great speed
of canvas, she could take advantage of every change of the wind, and
pursue it to the uttermost.
The _Lively Bee_ would fly with a puff of wind, while the big ships
would scarcely move.
Before noon the sharp eyes of the first officer had made out the
_Frolic_ and the _Poietiers_, both heavily manned frigates.
"It is no good tackling them," said the captain.
"No, but they may attack us."
"We will keep out of range."
"They are getting ready to lower the boats, and will board us."
"That is what I was afraid of," answered Captain Vernon.
"Get out the sweeps, boys, and pull with all your might."
Slowly, but with a quicker motion than was possible for the war ships,
the _Lively Bee_ got out of the range of the _Frolic_ and _Poietiers_.
But there was the third Britisher, a brig, which Tempest had not taken
much notice of.
Suddenly the young officer shouted to the captain:
"A merchantman!"
"Where away?"
"Being convoyed by the war ships."
It was true. The third vessel was a rich merchantman, which had been
traveling under the protection of the men-of-war.
By some miscalculation she had drifted away from her escort, and was
practically defenseless.
"If we can't take her we can make her valueless," said Tempest.
"Do you think so?"
"Let me try."
"The _Lively Bee_ is at your service."
Lieutenant Tempest stepped forward.
"Clear away the long gun. We'll fire one shot, anyway."
The men were delighted, although it looked like a piece of impudence
and folly.
"Load carefully. I will sight the gun myself," said Tempest.
The men in the sweeps watched the action and awaited commands.
"Avast pulling!"
The oars rested. The _Lively Bee_ drifted over the smooth water.
Tempest took very deliberate sights. Then, when satisfied, he stepped
back from the breech.
"Fire!"
The shot went skimming through the air, and struck the merchantman in
the waist.
The British warships heard the report, and seemed astounded at the
sauciness of the little _Lively Bee_.
Such impudence could not be allowed to go unpunished.
But Tempest had no intention of being caught just then.
"Give way, boys, in those sweeps! Make all you can."
The crew did pull with all their might, and the _Lively Bee_ seemed to
fly over the water.
The _Frolic_ fired a broadside at the privateer, but all the ammunition
was wasted, as the _Lively Bee_ was out of range.
Another shot was fired at the merchantman, and her mainmast went over
with an awful crash.
"Now we must run for it, but it does seem a pity," said Captain Vernon.
"Do not be in too great a hurry."
The long gun was loaded again, and a third shot went raking the deck of
the unfortunate vessel.
"Look out; we are in for squalls now!" shouted Vernon.
And almost within a pistol shot was the _Frolic's_ long boat, with a
crew of boarders.
"Beat to quarters!" shouted Vernon.
He was only just in time.
The daring Britishers clambered up the chains, they swung themselves
into the rigging, and gained the deck of the _Lively Bee_ with
astonishing alertness.
Headed by their officers, the crew of the privateer clutched their
cutlasses with firm grip, and met the invaders.
It was a terrible fight.
Confined within the small space of the deck of the schooner, four dozen
men were cutting and slashing at each other with savage fury.
Lieutenant Smith of the _Frolic_ was wounded dangerously almost the
minute he landed.
The deck was covered with blood.
So many men were killed that their bodies became a menace and a danger
to the living, who fell over them and endangered their lives.
Tempest had struck terrifically at one of the British, but missed
because the man stepped back, and the privateer's way was blocked by a
dead body.
With wonderful celerity Tempest picked up the corpse and threw it
overboard.
His example was instantly followed, and every dead body was given to
the waves, and alas! some of the wounded met the same watery grave.
The fight did not last long.
The British were beaten so thoroughly that the few survivors begged for
mercy.
It was only after the fight that Vernon discovered that the two
men-of-war had escaped.
The merchantman drifted about helplessly, and was soon boarded by the
crew of the privateer.
She proved to be a rich prize, and her captain could not help admiring
the courage of the privateer who had taken his vessel away from two of
the most noted war ships of the British navy.
It was not cowardice which caused the two vessels to escape.
Just on the verge of the horizon they saw some American men-of-war, and
they determined to give chase, leaving the merchantman a prize in the
hands of the privateer.
The boarding crew had been deserted only when it was found that they
stood no chance of capturing the _Lively Bee_.
Although the captain of the merchantman admired the privateer's
courage, he was none the less grieved over the loss of his vessel and
her rich cargo.
Five of the English boarders had been taken prisoners, and to these he
went.
He made them liberal offers if they would but break loose and aid him
in retaking his ship.
They were not averse to the project, if they saw the slightest chance
of success.
Circumstances favored them.
Captain Vernon sent the prisoners on board the merchant prize, and
placed Tempest in command.
The prisoner-captain was permitted his freedom on parole.
He gave his sacred word that he would not try to escape, and yet his
heart was full of treachery, his brain occupied in hatching schemes of
mutiny.
That night a heavy fog sprang up, and the two vessels dare not stay too
close together.
That was the opportunity.
With cat-like tread the captain descended to the cabin, where the
English sailors were imprisoned.
Lieutenant Tempest had grave suspicions about the man's honesty, and
set himself to watch him.
From a point of vantage he heard every word, and formed his plans.
The prisoners were not placed in irons, and so only the slight barrier
of a door stood between them and the freedom of the deck.
The night was dark and the fog more dense.
It was at three bells, or half-past one in the morning, that the
attempt was to be made.
Tempest arranged his plans, and to all appearance everything went on as
usual.
A few minutes before the striking of three bells, three of the crew of
the _Lively Bee_ might have been seen creeping cautiously to the top of
the companionway.
Had any one been there to watch most minutely, he would have seen that
each of the three was armed with pistol and marlin-spike.
The bells struck, and a man felt his way cautiously up the companionway.
He had only just slipped on the deck when a terrific blow from a marlin
spike held by Tempest felled him to the deck.
Another man crept up just as quietly to meet the same fate, while a
third, thinking something was wrong, saved his life by hesitating.
Tempest turned a flash from his lantern down the steps and saw the
merchant captain handing a pistol to the hesitating sailor.
A quick shot pierced the traitor's heart, and the sailor fell on his
knees and begged for mercy.
Thus ended the attempt to recapture the prize.
In the morning the _Lively Bee_ towed the merchant prize into port and
placed her in the hands of a reliable agent for sale.