When, in answer to the summons of our 24-pounders, the captain of the
_Dolores_ rounded-to and laid his topsail to the mast, he did not
trouble his crew to haul down the studding-sails, for he knew that his
ship was as good as lost to him, and the result was that the booms
snapped short off at the irons, like carrots, leaving a raffle of
slatting canvas, gear, and thrashing wreckage for the prize crew to
clear away. Thus, although we at once hauled-up for our port upon
parting company with the _Shark_, we had nearly an hour's hard work
before us in the dark ere the studding-sails were got in, the gear
unrove and unbent, and the stumps of the booms cleared away, and I
thought it hardly worth while to get a fresh set of booms fitted and
sent aloft that night. We accordingly jogged along under plain sail
until daylight, when we got the studding-sails once more upon the little
hooker and tried her paces. She proved to be astonishingly fast in
light, and even moderate, weather, and I felt convinced that had the
wind not breezed up so strongly as it did on the previous day, the
_Shark_ would never have overtaken her.
During the following two days we made most excellent progress, the
weather being everything that one could desire, and the water smooth
enough to permit of the hatches being taken off and the unfortunate
slaves brought on deck in batches of fifty at a time, for an hour each,
to take air and exercise, while those remaining below were furnished
with a copious supply of salt-water wherewith to wash down the slave-
deck and clear away its accumulated filth. It proved to be a very
fortunate circumstance that Captain Bentinck had permitted us to draw
the negro San Domingo as one of our crew, for the fellow understood the
language spoken by the slaves, and was able to assure them that in the
course of a few days they would be restored to freedom, otherwise we
should not have dared to give them access to the deck in such large
parties, for they were nearly all _men_, and fine powerful fellows, who,
unarmed as they _were_, could have easily taken the ship from us and
heaved us all overboard.
The _Dolores_ had been in our possession just forty-eight hours, and we
were off Cape Three Points, though so far to the southward that no land
was visible, when a sail was made out on our lee bow, close-hauled on
the larboard tack, heading to the southward, the course of the _Dolores_
at the time being about north-west by west. As we closed each other we
made out the stranger to be a brig, and our first impression was that
she was the _Shark_, which, having either captured or lost sight of the
craft of which she had been in chase, was now returning, either to her
station or to look for us and convoy us into Sierra Leone; and, under
this impression, we kept away a couple of points with the object of
getting a somewhat nearer view of her. By sunset we had raised her to
half-way down her courses, by which time I had come to the conclusion
that she was a stranger; but as Gowland, the master's mate, persisted in
his assertion that she was the _Shark_, we still held on as we were
steering, feeling persuaded that, if she were indeed that vessel, she
would be anxious to speak to us; while, if she should prove to be a
stranger, no great harm would be done beyond the loss of a few hours on
our part.
The night fell overcast and very dark, and we lost sight of the stranger
altogether. Moreover the wind breezed up so strongly that we were
obliged to hand our royal and topgallant-sail and haul down our gaff-
topsail, main-topmast staysail, and flying-jib; the result of the
freshening breeze being that a very nasty sea soon got up and we passed
a most uncomfortable night, the schooner rolling heavily and yawing
wildly as the seas took her on her weather quarter. We saw no more of
the stranger that night, although some of us fancied that we
occasionally caught a glimpse of something looming very faint and
indefinite in the darkness away to windward.
Toward the end of the middle watch the weather rapidly improved, the
wind dropped, and the sea went down with it, although the sky continued
very overcast and the night intensely dark. By four bells in the
morning watch the wind had died away almost to a calm, and with the
first pallor of the coming dawn the clouds broke away, and there, about
a mile on our weather quarter--that is to say, dead to windward of us--
lay the stranger of the preceding night, black and clean-cut as a paper
silhouette against the cold whiteness of the eastern sky, rolling
heavily, and with a number of hands aloft rigging out studding-sail
booms. The brig, which was most certainly not the _Shark_, was heading
directly for us, and I did not like the look of her at all, for she was
as big as the sloop, if not a trifle bigger, showed nine guns of a side,
and was obviously bent upon getting a nearer view of us. We lost no
time in getting our studding-sails aloft on the starboard side, bracing
the yards a trifle forward, and shaping a course that would give us a
chance ultimately to claw out to windward of our suspicious-looking
neighbour; but she would have none of it, for while we were still busy a
ruddy flash leapt from her bow port, a cloud of smoke, blue in the early
morning light, obscured the craft for a few seconds, and a round shot
came skipping toward us across the black water, throwing up little jets
of spray as it came, and finally sinking less than twenty yards away.
"Well aimed, but not quite enough elevation," exclaimed I to Gowland,
who had charge of the deck, and who had called me a moment before.
"Now, who is the fellow, and what does he mean by firing at us? Is he a
Frenchman, think you, and does he take us for a slaver--which, by the
way, is not a very extraordinary mistake to make? We had better show
him our bunting, I think. Parsons," to a man who was hovering close by,
"bend on the ensign and run it up to the gaff-end."
"There is no harm in doing that, of course," remarked Gowland; "but he
is no Frenchman--or at least he is not a French cruiser; I am sure of
that by the cut of his canvas. Besides, we know every French craft on
the station, and Johnny Crapaud has no such beauty as that brig among
them. No; if you care for my opinion, Grenvile, it is that yonder
fellow is a slaver that is not too tender of conscience to indulge in a
little piracy at times, when the opportunity appears favourable, as it
does at present. I have heard that, in contradiction of the adage that
`there is honour among thieves', there are occasionally to be found
among the slavers a few that are not above attacking other slavers and
stealing their slaves from them. It saves them the bother of a run in
on the coast, with its attendant risk of losses by fever, and the delay,
perhaps, of having to wait until a cargo comes down. Ah, I expected as
much!" as another shot from the stranger pitched close to our taffrail
and sent a cloud of spray flying over us. "So much for his respect for
our bunting."
"If the schooner were but armed I would make him respect it," I
exclaimed, greatly exasperated at being obliged to submit tamely to
being fired at without the power to retaliate. "But," I continued,
"since we cannot fight we will run. The wind is light, and that brig
must be a smart craft indeed if, in such weather as this, we cannot run
away from her."
The next quarter of an hour afforded us plenty of excitement, for while
we were doing our best to claw out to windward of the brig she kept her
jib-boom pointed straight at us, and thus, having a slight advantage of
the wind, contrived to lessen the distance between us sufficiently to
get us fairly within range, when she opened a brisk fire upon us from
the 18-pounder on her forecastle. But, although the aim was fairly
good, no very serious damage was done. A rope was cut here and there,
but was immediately spliced by us; and when we had so far weathered upon
our antagonist as to have brought her fairly into our wake, the
advantage which we possessed in light winds over the heavier craft began
to tell, and we soon drew away out of gunshot.
So far, so good; but I had been hoping that as soon as our superiority
in speed became manifest the brig would bear up and resume her voyage to
her destination--wherever that might be. But no; whether it was that he
was piqued at being beaten, or whether it was a strong vein of
pertinacity in his character that dominated him, I know not, but the
skipper of the strange brig hung tenaciously in our wake,
notwithstanding the fact that we were now steadily drawing away from
him. Perhaps he was reckoning on the possibility that the breeze might
freshen sufficiently to transfer the advantage from us to himself, and
believing that this might be the case, I gave instructions to take in
all our studding-sails, and to brace the schooner up sharp, hoping thus
to shake him off. But even this did not discourage him; for he promptly
imitated our manoeuvre, although we now increased our distance from him
still more rapidly than before.
Meanwhile the wind was steadily growing more scant, and when I went on
deck after breakfast I found that we were practically becalmed, although
the small breathing, which was all that remained of the breeze, sufficed
to keep the little hooker under command, and give her steerage way. The
brig, however, I was glad to see, was boxing the compass some three
miles astern of us, and about a point on our lee quarter.
It was now roasting hot, the sky was without a single shred of cloud to
break its crystalline purity, and the sun poured down his beams upon us
so ardently that the black-painted rail had become heated to a degree
almost sufficient to blister the hand when inadvertently laid upon it,
while the pitch was boiling and bubbling out of the deck seams. The
surface of the sea was like a sheet of melted glass, save where, here
and there, a transient cat's-paw flecked it for a moment with small
patches of delicate blue, that came and went as one looked at them.
Even the flying-fish seemed to consider the weather too hot for
indulgence in their usual gambols, for none of them were visible. I was
therefore much surprised, upon taking a look at the brig through my
glass, to see that she had lowered and was manning a couple of boats.
"Why, Pringle," said I to the gunner, whose watch it was, "what does
that mean? Surely they are not going to endeavour to tow the brig
within gunshot of us, are they? They could never do it; for, although
there is scarcely a breath of wind stirring, this little beauty is still
moving through the water; and so long as she has steerage way on her we
ought to be able--"
"No, sir, no; no such luck as that, I'm afraid," answered the man. "May
I have that glass for a moment? Thank you, sir!"
He placed the telescope to his eye, adjusted it to his focus, and looked
through it long and intently.
"Just as I thought, Mr Grenvile," he said, handing back the instrument.
"If you'll take another squint, sir, you'll see that they're getting up
tackles on their yard-arms. That means--unless I'm greatly mistaken--
that they're about to hoist out their longboat; and that again means
that they'll stick a gun into the eyes of her, and attack us with the
boats in regular man-o'-war fashion. But they ain't alongside of us
yet, and won't be for another hour and a half if the wind don't die away
altogether--and, somehow, I don't fancy it's going to do that. No, what
I'm most afraid of is"--and he took a long careful look round--"that in
this flukey weather the brig may get a breeze first, and bring it down
with her, when--ay, and there it is, sure enough! There's blue water
all round her, and I can see her canvas filling to it, even with my
naked eye. And there she swings her yards to it. It'll be `keep all
fast with the boats' now! If that little air o' wind only sticks to her
for half an hour she'll have us under her guns, safe enough!"
It was as Pringle said. A light draught of air had suddenly sprung up
exactly where the brig happened to lie; and by the time I had got my
telescope once more focused upon her, she was again heading up for us,
with her weather braces slightly checked, and quite a perceptible curl
of white foam playing about her sharp bows. But it only helped her for
about half a mile, and then left her completely becalmed, as before,
while we were still stealing along at the rate of perhaps a knot and a
quarter per hour. The skipper of the brig allowed some ten minutes or
so to elapse, possibly waiting for another friendly puff of wind to come
to his assistance, but, seeing no sign of any such thing, he hoisted out
his longboat, lowered a small gun--to me it looked like a 6-pounder--
into her, and dispatched her, with two other boats, in chase of us. The
dogged determination which animated our pursuers was clearly exemplified
by their behaviour; they made no attempt to cross with a rush the
stretch of water intervening between us and them, but settled down
steadily to accomplish the long pull before them as rapidly as possible
consistent with the husbanding of their strength for the attack when
they should arrive alongside. As they pushed off from the brig she
fired a gun and hoisted Brazilian colours.
"The affair begins to look serious, Pringle," I said, as I directed my
telescope at the boats. "There must be close upon forty men in that
attacking-party, and we do not mount so much as a single gun. Now, I
wonder what their plan of attack will be? Will they dash alongside and
attempt to carry us by boarding, think you; or will they lie off and
pound us with their gun until we haul down our colours, or sink?"
"They may try both plans, sir," answered Pringle. "That is to say, they
may begin by trying a few shots at us with their gun, and if they find
that no good I expect they'll try what boarding will do for them. But
they won't sink us; that's not their game. It's the slaves they believe
we've got in the hold that they're after; so, if they bring their boat-
gun into play you'll find that it'll be our top-hamper they'll aim at,
so as to cripple us. They'll not hull us if they can help it."
"Well, they shall not set foot upon this deck if I can help it," said I.
"Pass the word for the boatswain to come aft, Pringle, if you please.
He will probably be able to tell us whether there are any boarding-
nettings in the ship. If there are, we will reeve and bend the tricing
lines at once, and see all clear for tricing up the nets."
"Ay," assented the gunner. "I think you'll be wise in so doing, sir;
there's nothing like being prepared. Pass the word for the boatswain to
come aft," he added, to the little group of men constituting the watch,
who were busy on the forecastle.
The word was passed, and presently the boatswain came along.
"Boatswain," said I, "have you given the spare gear of this craft an
overhaul as yet?"
"Well, sir, I have, and I haven't, as you may say," answered that
functionary. "I knows, in a general sort of a way, what we've got
aboard of us, but I haven't examined anything in detail, so to speak.
The fact is, seeing that the trip was likely to be only a short one, and
we've been kept pretty busy since we joined the hooker, I've found
plenty else to do."
"Well, can you tell me whether there are any boarding-nettings in the
ship?" I asked.
"Boarding-nettings!" answered the boatswain. "Oh yes, sir; I came
across what I took to be a pile of 'em down below in the sail room,
yesterday."
"Good!" said I. "Then let them be brought on deck at once, and see that
all is ready for tricing them up, should those boats succeed in getting
dangerously near to us."
"Ay, ay, sir!" answered the man. And away he hurried forward to attend
to the matter.
Then I turned to the gunner.
"Mr Pringle," said I, "have the goodness to get the arm-chest on deck,
and see that the crew are armed in readiness to repel those attacking
boats."
"I hope it may not come to that, Mr Grenvile," said the gunner; "if it
does, I'm afraid it'll be a pretty bad look-out for some of us,
considerin' our numbers. But, of course, it's the only thing to do."
He took a look round the horizon, directed his gaze first aloft, then
over the side, and shook his head. "The sun's eating up what little air
there is," he remarked gloomily, "and I reckon that another ten minutes
'll see us without steerage way." And he, too, departed to carry out
his instructions.
There seemed only too much reason to fear that the gunner's
anticipations with regard to the wind would prove true; but while I
stood near the transom, watching the steady relentless approach of the
boats--which were by now almost within gunshot of us--I suddenly became
aware of a gentle breeze fanning my sun-scorched features, and the
slight but distinct responsive heel of the schooner to it; and in
another minute we were skimming merrily away at a speed of quite five
knots under the benign influence of one of those partial breezes which,
on a calm day at sea, seem to spring up from nowhere in particular, last
for half an hour or so, and then die away again. In the present case,
however, the breeze lasted nearly two hours before it failed us, by
which time we had left the brig hull-down astern of us, and had enjoyed
the satisfaction of seeing the boats abandon the chase and return to
their parent ship.
These partial breezes are among the most exasperating phenomena which
tax a sailor's patience. They are, of course, only met with on
exceptionally calm days, and not always then. They consist simply of
little eddies in the otherwise motionless atmosphere, and are so
strictly local in their character that it is by no means uncommon to see
a ship sailing briskly along under one of them, while another ship,
perhaps less than a mile away, is lying helpless in the midst of a
stark, breathless calm. Or two ships, a mile or two apart, may be seen
sailing in diametrically opposite directions, each of them with squared
yards and a fair wind. Under ordinary circumstances the fickle and
evanescent character of these atmospheric eddies is of little moment;
they involve a considerable amount of box-hauling of the yards, and
cause a great deal of annoyance to the exasperated and perspiring
seamen, very inadequately compensated by the paltry mile or so which the
ship has been driven toward her destination; and their aggravating
character begins and ends there.
But when one ship is chasing, or being chased by, another, it is quite a
different matter; for the eccentric behaviour of these same partial
breezes may make all the difference between capturing a prize, and
helplessly watching the chase sail away and make good her escape. Or,
as was the case with ourselves, it may make precisely the difference
between losing a prize and retaining possession of her. Thus we felt
supremely grateful to the erratic little draught of air that swept us
beyond the reach of the pursuing boats; but we piped a very different
tune when, some two hours later, we beheld the brig come bowling along
after us under the influence of a slashing breeze, while we lay becalmed
in the midst of a sea of glass and an atmosphere so stagnant that even
the vane at our mast-head drooped motionless save for the oscillation
imparted to it by the heave of the schooner over the swell. We had, of
course, long ere this, got the boarding-nettings up and stretched along
in stops, with the tricing lines bent on, and everything ready for
tricing up at a moment's notice; but, remembering the number of men that
I had seen in the boats, I felt that, should the brig succeed in getting
alongside, there was a tough fight before us, in which some at least of
our brave fellows would lose the number of their mess; and I could not
help reflecting, rather bitterly, that if the breeze were to favour us
instead of the brig, a considerable loss of life would be avoided. But
that the brig would get alongside us soon became perfectly evident, for
she was already within a mile of us, coming along with a spanking
breeze, on the starboard tack, with her yards braced slightly forward,
all plain sail set, to her royals, the sheets of her jibs and stay-sails
trimmed to a hair, and every thread drawing perfectly, while around us
the atmosphere remained absolutely stagnant.
I looked for her to open fire upon us as soon as she drew up within
range; but although her guns were run out--and were doubtless loaded--
she came foaming along in grim silence; doubtless her skipper saw, as
clearly as we did, that he had us now, and did not think it necessary to
waste powder and shot to secure what was already within his power. His
aim was, apparently, to range up alongside us on our port quarter, and
when at length he had arrived within a short half-mile of us, with no
sign of the smallest puff of wind coming to help us, I gave orders to
trice up and secure the nettings, and then for all hands to range
themselves along the port bulwarks in readiness to repel the boarders.
It was now too late for us to dream of escape, for even should the
breeze, that the brig was bringing down with her, reach us, we were by
this time so completely under her guns that she could have unrigged us
with a single well-directed broadside.
Anxious though I was as to the issue of the coming tussle, I could not
help admiring that brig. She was a truly beautiful craft; distinctly a
bigger vessel than the _Shark_, longer, more beamy, with sides as round
as an apple, and with the most perfectly moulded bows that it was
possible to conceive. She was coming very nearly stem-on to us, and I
could not therefore see her run, but I had no doubt that it was as
perfectly shaped as were her bows, for I estimated her speed at fully
eight knots, and for a vessel to travel at that rate in such a breeze
she must of necessity have possessed absolute perfection of form. She
was as heavily rigged as a man-o'-war, and her canvas--which was so
white that it must have been woven of cotton--had evidently been cut by
a master hand, for the set of it was perfect and flatter than any I had
ever seen before. She was coppered to the bends, was painted black to
her rails, with the exception of a broad red ribbon round her, and was
pierced for eighteen guns.
When she had arrived within about half a cable's-length of us she
suddenly ran out of the breeze that had helped her so well, and
instantly floated upright, with all her square canvas aback in the
draught caused by her own speed through the stagnant atmosphere; and now
we were afforded a fresh opportunity to gauge the strength of her crew,
for no sooner did this happen than all her sheets and halyards were let
go, and the whole of her canvas was clewed up and hauled down together,
man-o'-war fashion. And thus, with her jibs and stay-sails hauled down,
and her square canvas gathered close up to her yards by the buntlines
and leech-lines, she swerved slightly from her previous course and
headed straight for us, still sliding fast through the water with the
"way" or momentum remaining to her, and just sufficient to bring her
handsomely alongside.
"Now stand by, lads!" I cried. "We must not only beat those fellows
off, but must follow them up when they retreat to their own ship. She
will be a noble prize, well worth the taking!"
The men responded to my invocation with a cheer--it is one of the most
difficult things in the world to restrain a British sailor's propensity
to cheer when there is fighting in prospect--and as they did so the brig
yawed suddenly and poured her whole starboard broadside of grape slap
into us. I saw the bright flashes of the guns, and the spouting wreaths
of smoke, snow-white in the dazzling sunshine, and the next instant felt
a crashing blow upon my right temple that sent me reeling backward into
somebody's arms, stunned into complete insensibility.
My first sensation, upon the return of consciousness, was that of a
splitting, sickening headache, accompanied by a most painful smarting on
the right side of my forehead. I was lying prone upon the deck, and
when I attempted to raise my head I found that it was in some way glued
to the planking--with my own blood, as I soon afterwards discovered--so
effectually that it was impossible for me to move without inflicting
upon myself excruciating pain.
My feeble movements, however, had evidently attracted the notice of
somebody, for as I raised my hands toward my head, with some vague idea
of releasing myself, I heard a voice, which I identified as that of the
carpenter, murmur, in a low, cautious tone.
"Don't move, Mr Grenvile; don't move, sir, for all our sakes. Hold on
as you are, sir, a bit longer; for if them murderin' pirates sees that
you're alive they'll either finish you off altogether or lash you up as
they've done the rest of us; and then our last chance 'll be gone."
"What has happened, then, Simpson?" murmured I, relaxing my efforts, as
I endeavoured to collect my scattered wits.
"Why," answered Chips, "that brig that chased us--you remember, Mr
Grenvile?--turns out to be a regular pirate. As they ranged up
alongside of us they poured in a whole broadside of grape that knocked
you over, and killed five outright, woundin' six more, includin'
yourself, after which of course they had no difficulty in takin' the
schooner. Then they clapped lashin's on those of us that I s'pose they
thought well enough to give 'em any trouble; and now they're
transferrin' the poor unfortunate slaves, with the water and provisions
for 'em, from our ship to their own. What they'll do after that the
Lord only knows, but I expect it'll be some murderin' trick or another;
they're a cut-throat-lookin' lot enough in all conscience!"
Yes; I remembered everything now; the carpenter's statement aided my
struggling memory and enabled me to recall all that had happened up to
the moment of my being struck down by a grape-shot. But what a terrible
disaster was this that had befallen us--five killed and six wounded out
of our little party of fifteen! And, in addition to that, we were in
the power of a band of ruthless ruffians who were quite capable of
throwing the quick and the dead alike over the side when they could find
time to attend to us!
"Who are killed, Simpson?" I asked.
"Hush, sir! better not talk any more just now," murmured the carpenter.
"If these chaps got the notion into their heads that you was alive, as
like as not they'd put a bullet through your skull. They'll soon be
finished with their job now, and then we shall see what sort of fate
they're going to serve out to us."
I dared not look up nor move my head in any way, to see what was going
on, but by listening I presently became aware that the last of the
slaves had passed over the side, and that the pirates were now
transferring the casks of water and the sacks of meal from our ship to
their own, which--the water being perfectly smooth--they had lashed
alongside the schooner, with a few fenders between the two hulls to
prevent damage by the grinding of them together as they rose and fell
upon the long scarcely perceptible undulations of the swell. About a
quarter of an hour later the rumbling of the rolling water-casks and the
loud scraping sound of the meal-sacks on the deck ceased; there was a
pause of a minute or so, and then I heard a voice say in Spanish:
"The last of the meal and the water has gone over the rail, senor
capitan. Is there anything else?"
"No," was the answer, in the same language; "you may all go back to the
brig. And, Dominique, see all ready for sheeting home and hoisting away
the moment that I join you. There is a little breeze coming, and it is
high time that we were off. Now, Juan, are you ready with the auger?"
"Quite ready, senor," answered another voice.
"Then come below with me, and let us get this job over," said the first
voice, and immediately upon this I heard the footsteps of two people
descending the schooner's companion ladder. Some ten minutes later I
heard the footsteps returning, and presently the two Spaniards were on
deck. Then there came a slight pause, as though the pirate captain had
halted to take a last look round.
"Are you quite sure, Juan, that the prisoners are all securely lashed?"
asked he.
"Absolutely, senor," answered Juan. "I lashed them myself, and, as you
are aware, I am not in the habit of bungling the job. They will all go
to the bottom together, the living as well as the dead!"
"Bueno!" commented the captain. "Ah, here comes the breeze! Aboard you
go, Juan, amigo. Cast off, fore and aft, Dominique, and hoist away your
fore-topmast staysail."
Another moment and the two miscreants had gone.