Chapter Twelve.
A Marine Duel—and its Result.
The two occupants of the main-top maintained their position therein, keeping a watchful eye upon the movements of the schooner, until that craft had approached to within about three miles of the Aurora, when they descended to the deck; Captain Leicester remarking to the mate, as the latter swung himself down off the rail—
“I think, Mr Bowen, we may as well run up our ensign; perhaps the schooner will return the compliment and oblige us with a sight of the colour of her bunting.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the mate; and he walked aft, got out the ensign, bent it on to the halliards, and ran it up to the mizzen peak, where it hung in drooping folds, swaying listlessly with the sleepy roll of the ship.
For some time there was no response on the part of the schooner, which held steadily on her way straight for the barque, her six long sweeps plying as vigorously as ever, and churning up the glassy water into a long line of miniature whirlpools, which gradually diminished until they finally subsided on each side of her gleaming wake.
“The breeze, the breeze; here it comes at last, thank God!” ejaculated Bowen, who had been for some time anxiously regarding the rising bank of greyish cloud to the eastward. As he spoke, a faint, barely perceptible breath of cool air fanned the faces of the anxious watchers on the deck of the Aurora, and was gone again; a “cat’s-paw” or two momentarily ruffled the surface of the water here and there, only to leave it as glassy as before; then came another puff, which lasted just long enough to trail out the ensign for an instant and to rustle the royals; and then away on the extreme verge of the eastern horizon, the gleaming water assumed a light blue tint, which gradually spread, creeping slowly down towards the two vessels, the blue on the horizon insensibly darkening all the while, and conveying the thrice welcome intelligence that the breeze was slowly but steadily freshening.
“Yes,” said George, “here it comes, sure enough; and in a few hours we shall have plenty of it, by the look of the sky. Stand by the braces, lads; let go, and haul the yards round, and be lively about it; we cannot spare the time to be taken aback just now; that’s right, men; well there with the fore-braces; well with the main; brail in the mizzen and stow it; haul down the mizzen-topmast staysail. Now she feels the breeze. Hard up with your helm, my man, and let her wear short round. Let go your lee main-braces and round in to windward—gently now; not too quick; that’s well; catch a turn with your after-braces and then square the fore-yard; well with the fore-braces; belay all and coil up. Ah! I expected that.”
The latter exclamation was evoked by the boom of a gun from the schooner; and, turning his eyes in her direction, George saw the white smoke floating lazily away from her to leeward, and then a white jet of water started up as the shot came flying towards the barque, then another—another—and another, and finally a scurrying splash as the iron messenger swept along the surface of the water and sank, falling short by about a hundred yards. At the same moment the heavy sweeps were laid in; the schooner’s sails were trimmed as if by magic to the coy breeze; her head paid off; and as she swept gracefully round upon a course which would enable her to intercept the Aurora, a tiny ball went soaring aloft to her main-topmast-head and, breaking abroad as it reached the truck, a square black flag fluttered threateningly out, a fit emblem of the character of those who sailed beneath it.
“Not quite close enough, Mr Rover,” remarked Bowen, cheerfully, as the shot sank into the placid depths of the ocean, now gently ruffled by the increasing breeze. “Shall we return the compliment, sir?”
“Not just yet,” answered George; “she is still a long way off; and we cannot afford to waste a single ounce of powder or shot. But it is time that we should have everything ready to carry on the fight in earnest, so I must ask you, Mr Bowen—as the most reliable man I have on board—to go below and see to the passing up of the powder; it will never do to run the risk of having an explosion in the powder-magazine.”
“Very well, sir; I’d have greatly preferred to have been on deck, to take my fair share in the fighting; but I’m ready to do my duty wherever you may choose to order me,” said the chief mate, as he walked away aft with a rather rueful face, on his way below to the magazine.
The schooner, finding that she was not yet within range, remained silent for the next five minutes; and then George, who was keenly watching her, saw another flash, another puff of white fleecy smoke, and once more the ball came bounding over the water, straight for the barque.
“It will reach us this time,” thought the skipper; and he was right, the shot striking the water about forty feet from the side of the Aurora and then bounding harmlessly over her, except for a hole which it punched in the main try-sail in its passage.
“Now, lads,” said George, “it’s our turn. Mr Ritson, run out the gun, if you please, and show us what you can do in the way of shooting.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Ritson gleefully, “the water’s smooth, the ship’s steady, and altogether it’s a capital day for this kind of work. Man the tackles, there; run out; muzzle to the right, a trifle; not too much; so, well there; elevate the muzzle a leetle more; there, that’ll do; I’ll try that. Now then, Snowball, let’s have that ‘loggerhead.’ Ned, just freshen that priming a bit. Now stand clear, lads, and you, Tom, touch her off when I give the word.”
Then, stooping down, he glanced along the sights for an instant or two, and finally gave the word “Fire!”
At the word Tom promptly applied the loggerhead; there was a ringing report; and as the smoke cleared off the shot was seen to strike the water close alongside the schooner, and the next instant a white scar in her bulwarks attested Ritson’s skill as a marksman and showed that the shot had taken effect. A hearty cheer from the Aurora’s crew manifested their elation at this lucky hit; and George, who was watching the schooner through his telescope, quietly remarked—
“Thank you, Ritson; that was capitally aimed; you must have done some execution among the crew of that craft, too, for there is a great deal of confusion among them on deck, I see. Ah! there they fire again.”
Once more the shot came flying straight for the barque; and once more it whistled harmlessly over her, just touching the main-mast as it passed, but inflicting no injury on the spar.
“Capital practice on both sides,” remarked the skipper coolly; “six inches further to the right, gentlemen, and you would have plumped that shot right into our main-mast. Now try again, Ritson, and aim for his spars; the sooner we can cripple him the better will be out chances of getting clear of him without loss to ourselves.”
Again the Aurora’s long nine rang out its sharp report; but for some reason, probably from over-eagerness on the part of the second mate, the shot flew wide, passing some twenty yards astern of the schooner.
“Bad luck to it!” exclaimed the discomfited Ritson impatiently. “Run in the gun, lads; and be smart with it; that’s your sort; sponge it well out; that’ll do; now in with the cartridge; three strokes with the rammer; now home with the shot; run out the gun again; bear a hand with the priming-iron, you Ned; muzzle to the left—a little more yet; well with that. Now Tom, stand by—Fire!”
Both vessels fired at precisely the same moment; the schooner’s shot passing in through the Aurora’s bulwarks close to the gun, and making the splinters fly in all directions, one of the latter grazing Captain Leicester’s cheek, and drawing blood; but, very fortunately, beyond this no further damage was done.
On the other hand, the Aurora’s shot, much better aimed this time, cut the weather whisker-stay on board the schooner, and compelled her to at once keep dead away before the wind in order to prevent the loss of her jib-boom.
“Well shot!” exclaimed George enthusiastically. “Fore and main-braces, lads; port your helm, my man,”—to the helmsman—“and let her come up ‘full and by;’ round in upon the port-braces, fore and aft; board the fore and main-tacks; aft with the sheets, cheerily, my lads; if we are smart we may get out of gun-shot before they can repair that damage. Well there of all. Now to your gun again, lads, and let’s treat them to another dose of the same sort.”
The men sprang about the decks like wild-cats, and, in their elation and excitement, did the work of at least three men each; the yards were braced up almost as soon as the ship could luff to the wind; the tacks were seized and boarded with irresistible strength and energy, the sheets flattened in; and in considerably less than five minutes the Aurora was rushing along on a bowline with her lee covering-board nearly awash, and a clear, glassy surge spouting up on each side of her cutwater, and foaming away from her sharp bows with a hissing roar which was sweetest music just then to the ears of her delighted crew.
“Now the old barkie travels,” exclaimed the exultant Ritson. “Unhook the gun-tackles, you sea-dogs, and rush the gun aft; we’ll try a shot out through the stern-ports this time.”
At this moment the boom of another gun from the schooner was heard; and next moment the shot came flying through the Aurora’s rigging, cutting the main-brace pennant, and passing through the head of the foresail. The lee main-yard-arm at once flew forward, throwing the main-sail aback, and of course seriously interfering with the barque’s flight.
“Up with your helm and keep her away until the main-sail fills again,” commanded George; “haul inboard the brace, and one hand get a marlinespike and jump aloft to make the splice. Be smart, lads; there’s no great harm done.”
Ritson was, in the meantime, busy aft with the gun; and presently he fired again, pitching the shot fairly on the schooner’s forecastle, where some of her crew were busy with the cut stay.
On board the Aurora the main-brace was very soon spliced; after which Captain Leicester had the mizzen, gaff-topsail, and, in short, every stitch of canvas that would draw, set to the freshening breeze; then, inquiry having elicited the fact that tea—or supper, as the men termed it—was ready, he ordered the crew to knock off and take the meal whilst they had the opportunity.
George and the two mates had their meal served on deck, the top of the skylight doing duty for a table; and they were about half-way through with it when the pirate schooner was seen to once more haul her wind in pursuit. This, however, gave them no immediate apprehension, as she was far out of gun-shot; the breeze was still steadily freshening, and the Aurora was plunging along at a racing pace over the short sea which had already been raised, with the wind humming merrily through her rigging, and a great foaming surge hissing and buzzing under her lee bow and streaming out in a long trail of bubbling froth behind her.
“We’re going to have a fresh breeze to-night, I think, sir,” remarked the chief mate, as he helped himself to another slab of salt junk, “and, if it’ll only come fresh enough to oblige us to stow our royals, I think that, on an easy bowline—our best point of sailing—we shall be able to fairly run away from that chap.”
“Yes,” said George, “I believe we shall. And if we can only get weather which will give us the advantage over her in the matter of speed, I shall feel very much inclined to turn the tables on her, and give her a good wholesome lesson. It struck me that our gun threw its shot considerably further than hers did.”
“I’m sure it did,” emphatically corroborated Ritson; “and it’d be doin’ a real service to give the piccarooning rascals a thorough good drubbing.”
It appeared, however, as though the fortuitous combination of circumstances hinted at by Captain Leicester was not to be; for before long it became evident that the schooner, notwithstanding the freshening breeze and the increasing sea, was slowly but steadily gaining on the barque. But “a stern chase is a long chase,” and the schooner, while repairing damages, had not only been left astern, but had also been compelled to run a considerable distance to leeward. So that, when the sun set, and the short brilliant tropical twilight faded out of the sky, she was still some six miles distant, broad on the Aurora’s lee quarter.
With the setting of the sun there came a still further freshening of the breeze, laying the barque down upon her side until her lee covering-board was buried, and the water, spouting up through the scuppers, was washing the deck on the lee-side almost up to the coamings of the main-hatchway. The wind was making weird, wild music as it swept through the tautly-strained rigging; and the topgallant and royal-masts were whipping and bending like fishing-rods with every pitch and ’scend of the ship, while the straining canvas, towering away aloft toward the dusky heavens, stood as firm and steady as though moulded in iron. The watch below were in their hammocks, enjoying the repose which they had earned by a day of unusual exertion; and the watch on deck were also, by George’s express command, snatching such a weazel-like sleep as could be obtained consistently with the holding of themselves ready for a prompt call in case of emergency.
The night wore slowly on; the young moon, which had been hanging like a silver crescent low in the western sky, sank beneath the horizon; and the spangled heavens became almost wholly obscured by the broadening masses of dusky vapour which swept rapidly athwart them. There was light enough, however, to render the schooner easily distinguishable with the aid of the night-glass; and George, after attentively watching her for more than half an hour, came to the conclusion that the Aurora was at length holding her own.
“We will clew up and furl the royals, if you please Mr Ritson,” said he to the officer of the watch; “I am getting uneasy about those sticks; and it would be most unfortunate to lose them just now. I believe we shall do just as well without the royals as with them in this fresh breeze. How is she steering? Pretty easily?” to the man at the wheel.
“No, sir,” was the reply; “she’s ‘gripin’’ awful; it takes a half-turn of the wheel to keep her out of the wind.”
“Then we’ll take in the gaff-topsail and mizzen-topmast staysail as well,” said George. “All that weather-helm must make at least half a knot difference in her sailing.”
Sail was accordingly shortened, the result proving the justice of Captain Leicester’s surmise, for there was no perceptible diminution in the speed of the barque; on the contrary, in another half-hour both the skipper and his second mate were convinced that the Aurora was gradually creeping away from her pursuer.
The spread of canvas was then further reduced by the hauling down of the main-topgallant-staysail, and the furling of the fore-topgallant-sail; and finally the flying-jib and main-topgallant-sail were stowed, after which the two craft appeared to maintain, as nearly as possible, an equal speed all through the remainder of the night.
The next morning dawned with a coppery-red tint in the eastern sky, and a streaky look in the clouds, which was a presage of a windy day. The schooner was about six miles distant, bearing three points on the barque’s lee quarter. Her royal, topgallant-sail, and flying-jib were stowed; but by the way in which she was lying over to the breeze, and the dense showers of spray which were incessantly flying in over her weather bow, it was evident that she was still carrying all the canvas she could stagger under.
“Now,” said George to the first mate, when the latter came on deck to take charge at eight bells, “I think we have that fellow in our power, and can do pretty nearly what we like with him. In this breeze and with this sea we can outsail him; and with all that water pouring in upon his forecastle it will be difficult for him to work his long-gun to advantage, which I believe, unlike ourselves, he has fixed there on a pivot; so I propose to let him creep up within gun-shot astern of us, and fight him there, where all the advantage will be on our side.”
Accordingly, as soon as the crew had taken their breakfast, Captain Leicester ordered the jib and fore-topmast staysail-sheets to be hauled over to windward in order that the barque’s speed might be reduced without shortening sail and so exciting any suspicion in the minds of the pirates of a desire on the part of the Aurora to renew the action.
This manoeuvre had the desired effect; and shortly before noon the schooner once more opened fire, the shot flying past the Aurora, and at some distance to leeward of her. This was doubtless in consequence of the violent motion of the schooner, which, being a much smaller vessel than the barque, was much more lively in the sea-way. This gave the Aurora another advantage over the schooner, as was at once apparent when Ritson recommenced his gun-practice; his first shot passing through the schooner’s topsail in close proximity to the mast.
The firing soon became pretty animated on both sides, the Aurora having, however, a decided advantage over her antagonist both in rapidity and precision of fire. Thus, while at the end of half an hour only one of the schooner’s shot had touched the barque, and that without doing any material damage, her own sails and rigging were pretty well cut up, several shot-holes being visible in her canvas, whilst a number of ends and bights of ropes were seen streaming to leeward in the wind.
At length a lucky shot from the Aurora struck the schooner’s fore-mast just below the eyes of the rigging, wounding the spar so badly that it almost immediately afterwards went, carrying away the main-topmast with it, and in an instant the whole of the pirate’s top-hamper was towing to leeward, causing tremendous confusion on board, and placing the craft almost completely at the mercy of her antagonist.
A hearty cheer burst from the lips of the Aurora’s crew at the sight of this disaster on board their adversary, a disaster of which George was determined to take the fullest advantage.
“Now, lads,” he exclaimed, “she is at our mercy, and we will inflict on her a lesson she is not likely to speedily forget. Clew up the courses, then let go the topsail-halliards, and double-reef the fore and main-topsails, and, as you come down, stow the courses.”
The men sprang aloft with alacrity to execute these duties; and, on their return to the deck, sail was further shortened, until the barque was under double-reefed topsails and fore-topmast staysail only; when she wore round and stood directly for the disabled pirate schooner, the long-gun being run forward and pointed out of the foremost port on the lee-side, and the firing resumed.
In a very short time she was close to the schooner, round and round which George proceeded deliberately to sail, maintaining a steady fire upon her meanwhile.
The pirate schooner, however, though disabled, was by no means rendered harmless, as Captain Leicester soon discovered to his cost; for, as he was sailing past her to windward, at a distance of about fifty yards, to his very great surprise, her crew suddenly threw open three ports in her weather bulwarks, and the next moment three six-pounder shots came whistling through the Aurora’s rigging, cutting a rope or two, but happily missing the spars and all gear connected with the canvas which was set. At the same moment Ritson fired his nine-pounder, and struck the schooner (which was listing over to leeward with the weight of her wreckage) exactly between wind and water.
Now that the two vessels were so close together, it became apparent that Captain Leicester had been perfectly correct in his estimate as to the strength of the schooner’s crew; for whilst a strong gang could be seen hard at work clearing away the wreckage of the spars, a sufficient number of men were still available to work the broadside guns to windward, which they did with great animation as long as it was possible for one of them to be pointed at the Aurora.
This was not for long, however, for the barque, holding on her way, wore round as soon as she was out of musket-shot, and, passing across the schooner’s stern, swept up again to leeward, Ritson all the while keeping up an animated fire from the long-nine, and evidently doing tremendous execution among the thickly-clustering men on the schooner’s deck, who, whilst the barque was to leeward, were unable, in consequence of the wreckage, to return more than a very ineffectual fire.
At length, after an hour of this work, the black flag, which had fallen with the main-topmast, was exhibited above the bulwarks of the schooner for a moment, lashed to a boat’s oar, and was then dropped again, in token of surrender.
“That means that they’ve struck, sir, you may depend on’t,” exclaimed Ritson, walking aft as if for further instructions.
“Yes, I have no doubt it does,” replied Captain Leicester; “but if they expect that the fact of their striking will be of any benefit to them, they are woefully mistaken. We are altogether too short-handed to attempt to take possession of her as a prize; and as to leaving her alone, in order that she may repair damages and have the opportunity of renewing her depredations, it is not to be thought of. She is not entitled to any of the privileges of an ordinary enemy, nor shall I extend any such to her. She is simply a pirate, one of those pests of the high seas which it is the duty of any honest man to destroy, if he have the opportunity. And that,” he concluded grimly, “is what I intend to do. Keep up your fire, sir, and aim so as to strike her between wind and water if possible. I’ll sink her before I’ve done with her.”
Ritson accordingly returned forward, and, communicating the captain’s determination to the crew, they resumed work at the gun, with the stern set faces of men who recognised that they had a very terrible and disagreeable duty to perform, from the responsibility of which they dared not shrink.
As soon as the schooner’s crew discovered that their surrender had not been accepted, they reopened fire as well as they could from their own guns, and a man was seen to jump into the main-rigging and run aloft with something rolled up under his arm, which proved in another minute to be the black flag. Ascending as high as the lower masthead, he coolly climbed up on the cross-trees, and, standing there, deftly and rapidly lashed it to the masthead, after which he deliberately descended the rigging again, defiantly shaking his fist at the Aurora as he did so.
About ten minutes after the occurrence of this incident there followed another of an infinitely more thrilling and startling character. The Aurora had worn round, and was once more passing the schooner; and Ritson was in the act of glancing along the sights of the gun, preparatory to giving the order to fire, when, without the slightest warning or premonition of the dreadful tragedy about to take place, a dazzling flash of light was seen on board the schooner, her spars, her deck, and all that was upon it went soaring in fragments high into the air, her sides were rent open, and in a tremendous cloud of smoke, and with a deafening report, the devoted craft disappeared.
The barque’s whole frame jarred, her canvas flapped violently, and she careened perceptibly under the terrific concussion; a dead silence seemed suddenly to have fallen upon the scene of strife, and then came the splash, splash of the falling fragments into the water around, accompanied by the heavy thud of others descending upon the barque’s deck; the water seethed and leaped madly for a few seconds on the spot where the schooner had a minute before been floating, then subsided once more into the long, steady, regular run and heave of the sea, and all was over.
Whether the explosion was the result of accident, or the deliberate act of her desperate and reckless commander, it was of course impossible to ascertain; very probably it was the latter; but, whatever the cause of it, the pirate schooner was no more; a few rent and blackened timbers, with here and there the mangled remains of what had a few minutes before been a human being, floating on the surface of the heaving waters, was all that remained of her and her crew. George Leicester’s grim deed of retribution was complete.