CHAPTER XI
"A SEA FIGHT UNDER THE STARS"
By midnight both wind and sea had dropped considerably. At one bell the castaways saw the schooner's fore-topmast staysail rise slowly as her crew manned the halliards, and a second later her mainsail raised its head.
Jack gave a quick look round, and then said sharply,
"In with that sea-anchor, boys; it's time we were flitting."
In a moment the inaction on the whaleboat turned to a keen, nervous energy.
Hand over hand the oars were hauled alongside, and the sea-anchor got in over the bows; then away they went to windward.
The boat lay over to it, heavily pressed under a close-reefed lugsail, wallowing, splashing, crashing into the seas.
Jack, at the steering-oar, sailed her a "clean full," whilst the rest of the castaways baled furiously.
All of a sudden a puff of white smoke flew away from the side of the schooner, and the faint report of a gun reached them.
"A snot from his twelve-pounder amidships," said Jack calmly.
The ball screamed past overhead, and plumped into the sea a long way off to windward.
"It'll be wild shooting in this jump of a sea," observed Bill.
"Shall I bring my pop-gun into action?" drawled Broncho almost indifferently, as he fingered his Winchester.
"Yes, let him have it; he's not going to drop lead over us without getting some back," returned the rover fiercely.
"Jump it into him, Broncho," cried the bluejacket eagerly.
"That I shorely will without any ondue delays," replied the cowpuncher, and taking a rapid sight he fired.
"It ain't easy shootin' in this here turmoil," he muttered, watching to see the effect of his shot. "Now he's scatterin' it loose," he went on, as a whole volley blazed from the schooner.
"Twelve-pounder again and rifle-fire," commented the man-of-war's man, as the bullets screamed overhead. "That vigorous josser will have to lower his sights a bit if he aims to do us any damage."
"I allow that shot makes him chew his mane; he's gettin' some acrid. He reckoned he was goin' to bluff us sports quick an' easy," muttered Broncho, pumping another cartridge into his gun.
"Now, my frenzied hold-up!" he cried derisively, and fired again.
"Get into the firing-line, Bill," broke in their leader sharply.
The bosun's mate needed no second bidding, but seized his gun eagerly.
"'Ere's 'santy' to you, Mister Dago Charlie," he cried out, and he pulled the trigger.
"Here she comes again!" yelled Jim, poking his head over the gunwale in his excitement.
As the schooner fired, all the castaways, with the exception of Jack steering, bobbed down in the bottom of the boat, as the latter cried:
"Lie low everybody," at the same time pushing Loyola down on to the floorboards.
This time there was a dull thud aft.
"Hulled, by God!" burst out the bluejacket.
"Torn my only pair of dungarees," said Jack coolly. "Rifle bullet clean through us."
"Not hurt, Jack?" asked Loyola piteously, her voice trembling.
"No fear, Lolie; just a graze, that's all."
"Chance shot!" remarked Bill. "What range is you sightin' at, Broncho?"
"Six hundred."
"Better make it five," advised Jack. "She's closed up on us a bit, but the sea and wind are moderating every minute. Tari, come and take the steering-oar. We'll bring all our battery to bear."
Whereupon the Kanaka changed places with Jack.
Seeing that he had utterly failed in his attempt to make the whaleboat heave-to, the marooner now ceased firing for a spell; but having put his hand in the fire, it was now too late to draw it out. It was his life against theirs now, and he crowded sail in pursuit with desperate purpose.
But the three riflemen in the whaleboat continued to pump lead in his direction, hoping by a lucky shot to cool his ardour sufficiently to make him sheer off.
Presently the schooner's maingaff dropped its peak.
"Halliards shot away!" exclaimed the rolling-stone.
Jim burst into a cheer.
"Easy, sonny, easy," said Bill gravely. "It's too early yet to begin shouting."
The Black Adder soon had her mainpeak hoisted again, but the whaleboat's success was too much for the pirate's temper.
Her helm was put up, and as she fell off her whole side burst into flame. The water was cut up all round the whaleboat by the shower of lead. It flew over the castaways, whining and humming through the air, and the boat quivered under the shock of three hits.
"Gee whiskers! Shrapnel!" exclaimed Bill concernedly.
"Slugs and pot-legs," agreed Jack, shaking off some blood which was running down his hand. "Any one hurt?" he continued.
"Why, you are, Jack!" cried Loyola in great distress.
"Only a scratch on the arm," remarked the former carelessly.
"Let me bind it up."
"No time now, Lolie. Well-aimed broadside that; 'bout four hundred, isn't it, Bill?"
"Aye."
"Plug those shot-holes if you can, Jim," went on the rover in a most unconcerned voice.
He knew that things were looking serious, but the last thing he wished to do was to show the boat's crew that he thought so.
"He shore cuts loose some lead that time," muttered Broncho. "The kyards is comin' some swift. Thar's nothin' tender about that 'ere maverick; he's plumb wolf from away back."
"More cartridges here, powder-monkey," laughed Bill cheerily to the boy.
Jim reached over to the bag, but Loyola was quicker, and held out her two small hands with all they could hold in front of the bluejacket.
"Thank you, mum; I 'opes as 'ow you didn't think I wos a-callin' of you a powder-monkey," said Bill, reddening.
"Why, don't you think I make a very good one?" smiled the intrepid woman; then excitedly, as the schooner's deck showed, "There's Dago Charlie! There he is, standing right forrard!"
All three rifles rang out.
The man sprang backwards and was hidden behind the bulwarks, but soon reappeared brandishing a furious fist.
What with the difficulty of accurate shooting at night and in the rough sea, neither side seemed to be doing much damage.
Jack, Broncho, and Bill Benson concentrated all their energies in the endeavour to pick off the schooner's captain, who exposed himself carelessly as he watched the whaleboat keenly through his binoculars.
"That 'ere dago is a heap too obvious on the scenery; if this boat would quit pitchin' so lively, we'd stop his sin-encrusted play some rapid," observed Broncho, as he took a long, careful aim.
"Two hours to daylight," muttered Jack, reloading. "I'd like to see him sheer off before dawn."
"So should I," said Loyola softly.
The woman was behaving with rare courage, and took no more heed of the flying lead than an old campaigner.
She and Jim had managed to plug all the shot-holes, and now that the sea was smoother they were able to take a spell at the baling.
"Lolie, you're a brick. Pluckiest little woman I've ever met," declared the rolling-stone fervently, as he knelt beside her.
"Have we any chance, Jack?" she asked sadly.
"Why, of course! You don't want to give in, do you, dearie? I should think you had seen about enough of the Black Adder."
"Me? I'd rather die than fall into the hands of Dago Charlie!" she cried vehemently.
"I thought so," observed Jack, with a keen look of approval in his eyes; and then went on almost gaily, "Then it's a fight to the finish, isn't that so, boys? We won't give her up, will we? No surrender to Dago Charlie for us?"
"Give her up? I'm a blasted grabby if we does any such thing," grunted Bill scornfully.
"I should smile," drawled Broncho. "What kinder skunks do you-alls think we is? I don't drop out o' this deal till my lamp goes out or that pesterin' snake yonder pulls his freight."
"We're never goin' to give you up to that fiend, mum," chimed in Jim, with a ferocious frown of valour on his face.
"Why," whispered the bluejacket under his breath to Jack, "the dago mighty near marooned us without 'er; an' if 'e got us now, it'd be over the side for us, and worse for 'er. 'E'll run no more chaunces like last time."
"You're right, Bill," agreed the rover; "that's my opinion."
The wind had now dropped to no more than a strong breeze and was veering into the north, and no longer coming in gusts.
The whaleboat sailed well, but was steadily being overhauled by the schooner, which, however, was some way to leeward.
The Black Adder now ceased firing, content with the knowledge that, barring accidents, she was sure of her prey.
But for the man at the wheel, none of her crew showed above the bulwarks, and after the castaways had wasted several rounds in a vain attempt to hit the helmsman, Jack laid down his gun in disgust and said,
"Let's cease firing and wait till he's a bit closer. It's no use throwing away ammunition like this."
"I agrees," assented Broncho. "As the kyards lay we-alls is simply wastin' chips. We'll hold our hand some."
"It's the perishin' day he's waitin' for," grumbled Bill, putting aside his smoking rifle and coolly filling his pipe. "He'll just keep station till sun-up, an' then the oratorio'll begin to play again."
The pursuer and pursued now raced along broadside to broadside, less than three cables' lengths separating them.
The Black Adder, though she was pinched up in the wind all she would bear, would not look up as close as the whaleboat, though she went faster through the water.
Jack's arm was now attended to and skilfully bound up by Loyola. A bullet had simply grooved through the flesh—not much more than a graze, but sufficient to cause a good deal of bleeding.
Jack, whilst his hurt was being doctored, thought hard. If something were not done soon, Dago Charlie's obstinate perseverance would prevail.
"We'll worry him yet," began the rover.
"Shore, an' euchre him too," said Broncho confidently.
"The wind's light enough now to help us," went on Jack. "Let's try some short tacking. We can go about three times to his one."
"That's good tactics, sure enough," commented Bill.
"Splendid!" cried Loyola. "Let's start at once."
"Right-oh! Ready about there, Tari. Bill, you ship an oar and help her round. We three will manage the lugsail."
The castaways had the boat round smartly, and away they went on the port tack, heading north-east.
The Black Adder was completely taken by surprise, and lost some valuable minutes before she followed suit and put her helm down.
Compared with the whaleboat, the schooner was a long time coming round.
Anxiously the boat's crew watched her as she rounded to with flapping head-sails, bowing her glistening black hull to the long swell with slow, dignified movements; then, as she felt the wind on the other tack, she lay over and came smoking after them, a frothing streak of white rolling away from her sharp stem.
She made a perfect picture for an artist as she cut through the gleaming path of the moon, carved out in a hard, clean outline of jet; and, forgetting her peril, Loyola could not help exclaiming upon the beauty of the scene.
"Just look at her! What other work of man can approach a sailing-ship for perfect grace and——"
"Ready about!" broke in Jack, with a queer smile and a muttered, "Sorry to interrupt you, Lolie," and round came the whaleboat again.
This time the schooner was prepared, and as she swung in stays she sent a ball from her twelve-pounder skipping after the chase.
The castaways saw the shot splash, and then with a whirr it ricochetted over their heads and plunged into the sea beyond them.
"Good shootin', and that ain't no josh!" commented Bill Benson.
"You're shore right, son," agreed Broncho. "That shot comes plenty close. This here Dago Charlie slings his scrap-iron too free an' easy: an' though we disdains these fam'liarities o' his, I shore regrets we-alls can't corral his game none. His scatterin' loose this-away is a'most liable to make a Montana sheriff apprehensife an' gun-shy."
"He ain't hit us yet," spoke up little Jim bravely.
"If he does he'll let sunshine through us, like as if we was a plate-glass winder," declared the cowboy.
Again the whaleboat tacked, and before the schooner got round, Tari swung her up once more on to the original tack.
Confused by the rapid manœuvres of the whaleboat, the marooner hesitated a moment too long whilst head to wind, and then starboarded his helm in an attempt to fall off on to the port tack again. But he was too late; the schooner had not enough way on her to respond to her tiller, and in a moment she was all aback.
"My God! she's missed stays!" yelled the rover joyfully. "What luck! What all-fired luck!"
"Shall we-alls burn some more powder on him?" proposed Broncho eagerly. "I regyards this here as a speshul o'casion."
"I think we'd better hold on a bit, Broncho. The ammunition's none too plentiful, and we'll want every cartridge presently," declared their cautious leader.
"An' you thinks a show-down is some handy, Jack?" inquired the cowboy.
"Well, the wind's dropping fast; that's all in our favour."
"Perhaps he'll tire of this and sheer off before daybreak," broke in Loyola wistfully.
"I allow he's too mean-strain an Injun to break away afore he's rattled us some consid'rable more; but don't you fear, missy, we euchres him some way on the final deal," declared Broncho cheerfully.
"You bet! The time's comin' when we'll wag our tails an' send 'im navigatin' over the horizon quicker'n if a hornet's stung 'im," chimed in Bill heartily.
Thus with hopeful talk did each hide a sinking heart.
Taking her hand in his, Jack looked long and lovingly into Loyola's eyes.
"Whatever happens, dear, you and I will not be parted—that I swear," he whispered.
"Dear Jack," she answered fondly, and smiled back at him with a brave spirit.
"If it comes to the worst, we'll board and carry the wretched schooner," he went on valiantly. "Three white men, not to speak of you, Jim, and Tari, ought to be able to settle the mixed rabble on that pirate. Never fear, Lolie, we'll pull through somehow."
Fainter and fainter grew the wind as the dawn approached. Still the whaleboat doubled before the persevering schooner like a hard-pressed hare, and by well-timed manœuvring the castaways continued to hold their own, though the marooner hung out every flying kite that would draw.
Presently, with the magic quickness of the tropics, the dawn spread gloriously over the east and dimmed the brightness of the stars.
In the whaleboat a fresh anxiety showed itself on every face as the light of day grew swiftly.
Then, as Jack passed his hand wearily across his eyes and slowly shook his head, a groan of distress broke out amongst the castaways.
"It's gone," whispered the rover hoarsely; then, groping clumsily about, he slowly sank down in the bottom of the boat and sat there miserably, with bent head and closed eyes.
A fierce oath burst from little Jim's lips, an oath such as he had not used since the first days on the Higgins, and it started a flood of lurid, blood-curdling blasphemy from the over-tried cowpuncher, whose swearing vocabulary Bill Benson ably succeeded in providing with new words.
This fiery avalanche of oaths fell unheard by the small ears of Loyola, who, crouching by Jack's side, stared at the rover with dry, piteous eyes, whilst Tari, inscrutably silent as usual, steered on with twitching lips.
In the midst of it all, the sail flapped, then filled, then flapped again; the last of the wind had gone, and the whaleboat lay rolling on a long, glassy swell, which already the sun was covering with glittering sparks, like a mass of diamonds on the Pacific's wonderful blue.
The swearing ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and nothing broke the silence in the whaleboat for some moments except the dreary flapping of the lugsail.
Then Jack lifted his head and spoke:
"It's a flat calm, eh, boys?"
"A Paddy's hurricane clear down to the horizon," returned the bosun's mate.
"The schooner's in it?"
"Aye, an' kotched it first. She's over three cables' lengths away now, an' slewin' round without steerage way."
"By Jove, then, boys, we'll beat them yet," declared Jack excitedly. "Out with the oars and let's put the horizon between us as soon as we can. I can't see, but hang me if I won't show Dago Charlie I can row."
His words put fresh life into the castaways.
"You hits it, this time, old son, for shore," burst out the cowboy. "This hand shall be played with renewed sperit, an' that on-tamed wild-cat's goin' to be out-held, or I'm a sheepman."