A STRONG SWIMMER.
That we had come out of the muddle in a marvelously fortunate manner,
goes without saying, and I question if there is another craft of the
Swiftsure’s size that has run away from a full-rigged brig in such a
short space of time. It was something to crow over, for we lads had
built the gallant little sloop from keel to masthead, with never a
person to aid or advise, and had good right to feel proud at walking
away from the Britisher at such a pace.
It would be a brave story to tell, and we had the right after taking
all the risks, to dwell over it as we pleased; but when I look back at
the matter now it does not seem such a wonderful performance. I am not
inclined to belittle that which was done by our sloop, yet I can now
see the Britisher was at a disadvantage.
The wind was a fairly strong one for a craft of the Swiftsure’s size,
and only half as heavy as the brig needed, consequently our sloop was
able to do her very best, while the Britisher was gasping for breath,
so to speak. In addition to this handicap, she was forced to lose way
every time a gun was discharged, while we kept straight on without let
or hindrance, taking the chances of being sent to the bottom.
However, give the Britisher all the allowance possible, and it was
something of which we might be excused for feeling proud, and it can
well be fancied that we did not spare our praises for the little
sloop. Twice had she served us a mighty good turn, and it is not to be
wondered at that we felt the warmest admiration for her.
In the excitement of the chase, when the heavy shots were being sent
our way, we had given no heed to the prison ship, although we must
have passed within full view of her riding lights. However, it was not
needed that we have another look at her, for we knew right well where
to find the craft when the time had come for Abel Grant to make his
desperate attempt at escape.
The important question for us to decide was whether we should make for
the Jersey shore as had been agreed upon, or if it was wiser that we
put to sea, running the risk of being able to get back on time, and I
looked at Seth Hartley, as if asking him to settle the matter.
“My advice is,” he said, reading the question in my eyes, “to put to
sea for a time. If the wind shows signs of flattenin’ out we should be
able, ’twixt now an’ to-morrow night, to work back to Coney Island, an’
it is much the same as a fact that the brig will make search for us
before mornin’, even if she isn’t followin’ our wake this very minute.”
I turned to my comrades to see what they thought of this advice, and
both appeared to think there was no further need of words, therefore I
held the bow of the sloop due south, but gave the word to slacken away
the sheets, for we were not eager to make overly much distance.
When we had settled down to an outside cruise, and nothing could be
seen to cause alarm, Abraham went down to have a look at the prisoner,
and I heard him say with much of scorn in his tone:
“You are the lad who dared to make an attack on this craft when you had
fifteen or twenty dissolute fellows to do your bidding; but you haven’t
got the courage to lay here when a shot or two skims over the sloop! I
can have some little regard for a brave enemy; but take the combination
of coward an Tory, an’ it makes mean stuff.”
“You wouldn’t like to be tied up here in this fashion while the sloop
was bein’ shot into fragments!” Luther whined.
“Were you in any more danger than either of us? You should have been
proud because your particular friends had their eyes wide open enough
to see us while we were slippin’ down the harbor, though I’m allowin’
there isn’t very much chance for pride in their marksmanship.”
“I wouldn’t have been frightened if I hadn’t been trussed up in this
fashion, for if the sloop had been swamped, as seemed likely when the
shots were comin’ so thickly, I couldn’t raise a finger to save myself.”
“I didn’t count that you should be able to do anythin’ of the kind.
If your friends had sunk us, it was time for you to go to the bottom,
since we’re not countin’ that you’ll ever have the chance to work us
more injury.”
“Do you count on murderin’ me?” Luther cried with a wail of agony, and
Abraham replied with a laugh:
“Not a bit of it, because you’re so worthless that I couldn’t afford
to remember I’d had a hand in puttin’ you out of the way. But I don’t
count on givin’ you a chance to escape, and whenever your friends press
us too hard, you’ll be stowed where whatever of harm comes will strike
you first. Just now, seein’ that you can’t do us a mischief, I’m goin’
to give you a chance to move about a bit.”
From the sounds which followed I fancied that Abe was unloosening the
Tory’s bonds, therefore was not surprised when the cur poked his head
out of the cuddy hatch, most like in order to get an idea of where we
were.
“It’s not a pleasant thing to have before one’s eyes,” I said when Abe
came on deck again; “but I reckon it was no more than right he should
have a chance to get the cramps out of his limbs.”
“He can’t do any harm now that we’re so far at sea, an’ because he’s
like to have a long spell of layin’ in harness when we work inland
again, it seems no more than decent to ease up on him a little, though
I’m willin’ to admit we haven’t any call to show mercy after all he has
done, an’ tried to do, to us. When Abel Grant comes aboard, as please
God he may before another night has worn away, it shall be for him to
say what we’ll do with the sneak.”
Luther Stedman heard these words, and he shrank back out of sight as if
having received a blow, as well he might, for it was wholly due to him
that our comrade had been made a prisoner, and it was not likely that,
having just come from quarters on the Good Hope, Abel would be inclined
to mercy while passing sentence on the Tory cur who had worked him so
much harm.
It was not pleasing to see the Tory moving about in the cuddy as if he
was a member of our company; but better that than inflict torture, and
we pulled the hatch over the companion-way to shut him out from view.
When we had run five or six miles from the land, I proposed that we
heave to, rather than take the chances of going so far away that we
might not be able to get back on time, and from then until nearly
sunrise it was only a question of making ourselves as comfortable as
possible.
We lounged around on deck, for the air was not overly chilly, spinning
yarns or speculating as to whether General Washington would make a
stand in New York when the British were ready to attack; but never once
did we speak of the work on hand. As for my own part, I did not dare
to start the conversation on that subject lest with discussion of the
chances against us I might grow faint-hearted. At a later day, Abraham
confessed that he held his peace concerning the rescue because he
already knew of too many reasons why we might fail, and feared some one
would suggest a danger such as had not yet come to his mind.
When the conversation lagged one or another would get “forty winks” of
sleep, or have out of the stores sufficient to provide him with a meal
that was not needed; but when the first gray streaks of the coming day
appeared in the eastern sky all hands were on the alert, and divided in
opinion as to whether it would be safest to make harbor back of Coney
Island, or off the Jersey shore.
I was in favor of the latter anchorage, as was Seth Hartley, and after
a few moments of tongue-wagging all agreed that this plan should be
carried out. Therefore it was that in the dim light of the morning,
with the wind still holding fairly strong, we stood across to Great
Kills, seeing neither ship nor skiff on the waters.
Now in order to reach a point as near the prison ship as it would be
safe to venture, we would be forced to row many miles in the skiff,
unless we used the sloop during a portion of the journey, and when we
were come to anchor inside the sand-spit where was little chance of
being seen by any craft that came into or went out of the harbor, I
made the following proposition:
“If at sunset the wind holds as now, I’m of the mind that we can do no
better than stand across a full two-thirds of the distance from here to
Gravesend. Then whosoever is to handle the skiff can put off in her,
while the sloop cruises to an’ fro, as near the Good Hope as is safe,
to the end that if Abel Grant’s escape is discovered before he is well
clear of the ship, we may make a rush with this same craft that has
twice shown her heels to the Britishers.”
“Suppose we agree upon that plan, who is to go in the skiff?” Abe asked
jealously, and I knew he was fearing lest he miss being given the most
dangerous post.
“It is to my mind that Seth Hartley should be one to go in the skiff,
since he can tell very much of what is bein’ done on the ship, while
either of us would be all at sea on such matters,” I said, firmly
determined to carry this point even though it might be necessary to
exercise my authority as leader of the Minute Boys.
“I can well see why that should be done,” Abe said emphatically, “an’
am agreed, if Seth is willin’ to take the chances knowin’ that in event
of bein’ captured he’d be hung without much ceremony,” and the lad
looked inquiringly toward our marine, who replied quietly:
“I shall be in no more danger aboard the skiff, than when we were
hidin’ in the swamp, an’ if I had not been willin’ to take any an’
every chance, I should not be with you now.”
“If all Britishers were like you, Seth, how quickly this so-called
rebellion would come to an end!” Sam said admiringly, and Abe asked
impatiently:
“Who is to go with Seth, that’s what I want to know? It seems as if,
since I was willin’ to set off with Luther Stedman, leavin’ to you
fellows all the chances that might come to finish the job without me, I
should be given an opportunity to show myself.”
“You must be a glutton for danger if the night tramp across the island,
when you were hampered by a prisoner, was not enough,” Sam cried
laughingly. “So far I haven’t had a chance to do very much, but it is
known full well that I can pull a good stroke at the oars, an’ it seems
as if you an’ Eph might give way for me.”
I had not spoken, though I was aching to have a hand in the adventure
despite all the dangers which caused the cold chills to run down my
back, and Seth must have understood somewhat of this, for he said after
Sam had made his plea:
“It strikes me that the only fair way would be to make the decision by
lot. Each of you is eager to have a hand in the matter, an’ well it
should be so, since it shows you to be lads of mettle; but the claim of
one is no greater than that of the others.”
“Very well, we’ll settle it that way!” Abraham cried, and I knew he was
praying that he might win what was like to be the prize of death. “You
shall make ready the lots, an’ we’ll abide by the decision.”
Seth went into the cuddy where was Luther, still at liberty, only long
enough to get three bits of ratline stuff, which he held in his closed
hand as he said:
“One of these is much shorter than the others, an’ he who draws it
shall be entitled to go with me in the skiff.”
Sam made his selection hurriedly, eagerly; Abraham came next, and when
I took the remaining lot it was to find that mine was the shortest. It
was a great piece of luck, and I knew full well that both the other
lads envied me.
“Now that the matter is decided, I hope you two who are to handle the
sloop will be cautious.” I said, speaking as I believed a leader had
the right. “Do not come within sight of the prison ship unless we have
been discovered, an’ you feel certain it will be possible to lend us a
hand. In case you see that we cannot escape, if chase be made, think
only of securin’ your own safety, leavin’ us to our fate, for it is
better that two of us pay the penalty than that all be captured an’ our
Tory set free.”
“If you think there is fear that I may not be sufficiently cautious,
change places with me, an’ then you’ll know to a certainty that the
sloop will be handled with due regard to the safety of those on board,”
Abe cried eagerly, and for the moment I verily believe he thought it
might be possible to work his will by using such an argument.
“We’d best hold to the agreement that was made by drawing lots,” I
said with a smile which did not tend to sooth the lad. “It was only
in my mind that if it seemed impossible Seth an’ I could come out of
the venture alive, then your duty would be to look after the safety of
those who had a show of goin’ free.”
“Suppose you was runnin’ the sloop, an’ I had gone in the skiff with
Seth,” Abraham cried, irritably. “If you saw a boat-load of Britishers
overhaulin’ us, would you turn tail an’ run away?”
I could not well answer the question without going back on my own
advice, therefore held my peace, and Seth Hartley put an end to the
conversation by saying with a smile:
“I’m thinkin’ you lads, now that the details have been arranged, had
better set about makin’ preparations for the night’s work, instead
of rufflin’ each other. Even if matters go exactly as we could wish,
there’s a deal of hard work to be done, an’ he who gets the most rest
’twixt now an’ sunset will be in the best shape for it. How about
standin’ hourly watches, one at a time, all the others to make every
effort at goin’ to sleep?”
I question if either of us felt any inclination to turn in just then;
but all understood that Seth had spoken wisely, and we made a downright
task of sleeping, I taking the first trick.
Luther was allowed to remain at liberty, with the understanding that he
was not to come on deck, and I had little to do save think of what the
night might have in store for us. Seaward not so much as the wing of a
gull was in sight, and as far as could be seen along the sandy shore it
was as if the land had never been inhabited.
My eyes were really heavy with slumber when I aroused Seth, after
an hour or more had passed, and, lying at full length on the cuddy
floor, I slept without being disturbed when the watches were changed,
throughout nearly the whole of that day.
The sun was no more than an hour high in the heavens when I awakened
because of having had my fill of sleep, and found Seth and Abe both in
the cockpit.
“Have you two been standin’ more than your share of the watches?” I
asked sharply, and was soon made to know that Seth had but just come
out of the cuddy, while Abe, like myself, was surfeited with slumber.
Five minutes later Sam awakened of his own accord, and we four sat in
the cockpit silent and motionless, awaiting the coming of night. It was
not a time for conversation, and yet so great was the suspense that to
think of what remained to be done was almost painful.
We made ready the canvas for hoisting; examined the oars in the skiff
critically, for a defect in one might cost the lives of all, and, at
Seth’s suggestion, wound the row-locks with rope that we might be
able to pull the more silently. The wind held steady, with promise
of freshening after sunset, for already were fleecy clouds coming up
out of the west, not in sufficient force to shut out the light of the
stars, but yet enough to tell that the little Swiftsure would have a
fair chance to show what she was able to do in the way of sailing.
“So far everythin’ is in our favor, an’ if Barney Nelson has been able
to do his share, we should succeed,” Seth said as he hove the anchor
short by way of finding some work for his hands.
We had cleared the deck of everything movable that might not be needed,
and otherwise done all in our power to guard against accidents. When
the sun set Abraham went down and made his prisoner fast in the bunk
again, not heeding Luther’s pleading or promises, and as the last rays
of golden light faded away in the west, we got under way, although
there was no real need of our leaving the anchorage for two hours more.
We stood well down off Coney Island in order to pass the time, and when
it seemed as if it was near nine o’clock we turned the sloop’s bow up
the bay, thus really beginning the venture.
The little Swiftsure made good time, but glided over the water as
silently as a shadow, as if understanding the necessity for caution,
until we were come off the lights of the prison ship, perhaps three
miles away due east.
“I allow this is our spot, lad,” Seth Hartley said in a whisper, for
so strongly were we imbued with the idea that absolute silence was
essential to the success of the venture, that we had hardly taken a
long breath since heading on a northerly course.
Abraham, who was standing nearby, took the helm, and, throwing aside
my boots, coat, hat and vest in order to be prepared for swimming if
anything of the kind became necessary, I dropped into the skiff which
Sam was holding alongside, the sloop’s headway having been checked.
Without a word of farewell, or even a whisper to each other, we settled
down to the oars, pulling steadily but cautiously, and thus made our
way across the bay until it was possible to see the riding lights of
the Good Hope quite distinctly.
“Here’s where we’d best wait,” Seth said, speaking for the first time
since we left the sloop, and at the same moment shipping his oars.
It was in my mind that we might safely venture a full half-mile nearer;
but he was the one who should know best, and I held my peace.
In the night, however much light may be given by the stars, it is
difficult to judge of distances on the water; but it seemed to me as if
we were not less than a mile and a half from the Good Hope, and while
we were so far away it would not be possible to lend Abel Grant any aid
if he was discovered at the moment of letting himself over the ship’s
side.
By gestures I made Seth Hartley understand that in my opinion we should
pull up nearer the Good Hope; but he shook his head so decidedly that I
made no further attempt at persuading him, though I said to myself that
if Abel Grant came to grief after getting into the water, our marine
could be held responsible.
I had thought the time of suspense while we were on the sloop as
painful as anything well could be; but it was veriest peace and content
as compared with this straining one’s eyes to see and ears to hear,
without avail. We were too far away to make out what might be going on
aboard; but must sit there watching the twinkling lights and listening
to the lip-lip-lipping of the water against the side of the skiff,
powerless to aid even in the slightest degree the poor fellow whom we
believed was about to make an effort at escaping.
Moment after moment passed without change, and I became so wrought up
that it was actually necessary to shut my teeth on the handle of the
oar, otherwise I would have cried aloud from sheer nervousness.
Seth remained motionless as a statue, save when the swinging of the
skiff forced him to turn on the thwart that he might keep his eyes
fixed upon the ship, and after it seemed absolutely impossible for me
to longer restrain my impatience, I asked in a soft whisper:
“How late is it?”
“An hour or more past midnight,” he replied without turning his head,
and my heart sank within me.
“Then he has failed!” I said in despair.
“It may be Barney could not make the necessary arrangements, an’ the
attempt has been put off.”
“Then why should we remain here longer?”
“Because we do not know what may have been done,” he replied, just a
bit curtly as I fancied, and once more we resumed our listening and
watching, but now hope was dead in my heart, and I played my part
listlessly, thinking only that we were trifling with our own lives by
remaining so near the enemy.
When perhaps half an hour more had passed without bringing any
token from the man whom we had hoped to save, I saw the canvas of
the Swiftsure, ghost-like amid the gloom, and knew that Abraham and
Sam had come to make certain we were safe. Touching Seth Hartley on
the shoulder, I pointed out the sail to him, but he shook his head
impatiently, and turned again to fasten his gaze on the prison ship.
Now the strain upon my nerves was lessened in some slight degree, since
I could occupy myself with the movements of the sloop. I saw her stand
off and on, keeping at the same distance, however, and thus knew that
the lads, having made out the skiff, were assured as to our whereabouts.
Then, when I had said to myself that we were playing the simple by
remaining there longer, the skiff was rocked violently to and fro as if
some monster of the deep had struck her, and only by the utmost effort
did I prevent myself from shrieking in terror as a small black object
appeared above the gunwale within a few inches of where I was sitting.
Seth Hartley bent forward to grasp the strange object, and I was
literally stricken dumb with astonishment when Abel Grant’s face, the
hair hanging over it in snake-like wisps, was before me.
Neither he nor Seth spoke, but our marine, guiding him to the stern
of the skiff, set about assisting the poor fellow inboard, while I
moved here or there as was necessary to prevent the light craft from
oversetting.
When this had been done Seth touched my lips with his wet fingers in
token that I was to hold my peace, and then took up the oars, swinging
the skiff around until she was headed for the ghostly sail in the
distance.
I never shall be able to tell how fervent was the hymn of thanksgiving
in my heart, or how nearly overpowering the astonishment that Abel had
come upon us thus unseen, and as a means of letting off some of the
excitement and triumph I pulled at the oars as never before, sending
the skiff ahead with a gurgling of water under the bow that sounded
like sweetest music.
Abraham and Sam saw when we turned the craft, and bore down upon us
supposing we had tired of the vigil, with never a suspicion that the
work had been accomplished successfully, while Abel Grant sat in the
stern-sheets swaying his body to and fro to mark the time for our
stroke, as if he had just come aboard after a season of pleasuring.
We were alongside the sloop and made fast before Abraham realized that
we in the skiff numbered three, and then he cried:
“Where did----”
“Not a whisper!” Seth Hartley said hoarsely, and instantly he clambered
over the rail the helm was in his keeping, the sloop being headed due
south.
Not until we were fully two miles away was a word spoken, though Abel
Grant continued to shake each of us by the hand with a grip which would
have been painful but for our intense joy, and then Seth said, speaking
cautiously even though we were so far away:
“Now I’m thinkin’ Abel Grant had better tell his story, for I’m achin’
to know how he could have come upon the skiff so secretly while I was
keepin’ watch as I never did before.”
“Go ahead, Abel!” I added, “for until I hear your voice I shan’t feel
really certain that you are here, even though my arm is lame through
your efforts to wring my hand from it.”
“I reckon you can figger it all out, needin’ no words of mine,” our
“admiral” said with a low laugh of satisfaction. “Barin’ our marine
here, that Barney Nelson is the most decent Britisher I ever came
across. He laid out the plan an’ asked if I was willin’ to try it.
Willin’? I’d have agreed if the water of the sea had been boilin’ hot,
for anythin’ was better than the stayin’ there, with that whelp of a
Luther Stedman crowin’ over me----”
“Luther Stedman is in the cuddy tied hand an’ foot, so after tellin’
your story you can go below an’ crow over him,” Sam cried in glee.
“That Tory on board this craft?” Abel asked, and would have showered us
with questions but that I said sharply:
“Tell your story first, admiral, an’ then you shall hear all about the
Tory.”
“Wa’al, as I’ve said, when that Britisher allowed he’d be willin’ to
give me a lift, I told him I’d agree to try anythin’ he could figger
out, an’ so I did. Jest about midnight I was told off with twenty other
poor wretches to take my turn at gettin’ a breath of fresh air on deck,
an’ there was your Barney Nelson on guard. He’d already explained that
if I saw him doin’ duty I was to work around behind him, next the rail,
where I’d find a rope hangin’ over, an’ it all went along slick as
grease. I got behind the marine; found the rope, an’ let myself down
inter the water, expectin’ to feel the ping of a British bullet every
minute. Of course I didn’t try to splash ’round very much, but pushed
off, swimmin’ like a water-logged dory.”
“Did you swim from midnight till you came alongside the skiff?” I asked
in surprise, and Abel replied with a gleeful laugh:
“Ay, lad, that’s what I did, seein’s there wasn’t any dock nigh at hand
for me to haul up at. I reckon I’d got well over to the Jersey shore
before havin’ the idee that I was out of the course, an’ then I hove to
for a bit. You see Nelson didn’t tell me where you was likely to be,
so I had to do a deal of guessin’ till the sail of the sloop loomed up
in the distance, an’ then I knew you lads were close at hand. After
that it was only a case of keepin’ my arms an’ legs goin’, not puttin’
in any very hard licks, ’cause I was bound to save my wind seein’s it
might be necessary to paddle ’round quite a spell.”
“You must have been swimmin’ a good three hours!” Abraham exclaimed,
and Abel replied with a grin:
“I reckon I was in the water that long; but I turned over on my back
now an’ then for a breathin’ spell. It wasn’t sich a very long pull for
the admiral of a fleet, ’cause of course he ought’er know how to handle
himself in the water, else he wouldn’t be fit to take command of the
Minute Boys’ navy.”
It would be useless for me to attempt to set down all that was said
that night when, at the distance of five miles or more, we ran down the
Long Island shore. It was as if each of us needed to hear himself talk,
and there was no thought of anything save yarn spinning until every
fellow had wagged his tongue sore.
And now, because I have taken up more time and pages than he who reads
may care to spend or turn, this poor apology for a story of what we
poor apologies for Minute Boys did, shall come to a speedy end, with
the promise that at some day I will set down all we accomplished when
our company numbered fifty-four members, for it grew apace after
somewhat of our work was made known.
As may well be understood, we did not attempt to gain New York by
sailing up the bay, but doubled Montauk Point as we had done once
before, only to find, after an unusually long voyage, that the enemy
was in possession of the colony far beyond Meyers Point, while our army
appeared to be making for the Hudson river.
Then it was that we tricked the Britishers once more by sneaking up
to Frog’s Point in the night, laying there close under a clump of
overhanging trees till the following evening, when, with the wind
blowing considerably more than half a gale and the rain coming down
as if the heavens had suddenly opened, we ran up the Harlem river to
King’s bridge. There, by unshipping our mast, we slipped through into
the Hudson river, and as far up the stream as Yonkers.
At this place we parted company with Luther Stedman, being as glad to
get rid of the cur as he was to go. We left the Tory in the keeping
of Colonel Clinton, who contrived to keep him in prison a good six
months, after which he was set free because his value as an enemy did
not warrant further bother with him. We Minute Boys failed to see the
scoundrel until more than a year had passed, and then we crippled him
for good, as shall be told when I write concerning what we did after
our company was sufficiently large to make it of real service in the
war.
And Seth Hartley? His time of enlistment expired before he had been
with us four months, and then both he and Abel were regularly enrolled
in our ranks.
At this moment the Swiftsure, old and worn as are her builders, lies at
anchor within my range of vision, and there was never a time when we
called upon her that she did not respond like some thing of flesh and
blood.
THE END.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.