‘What though to peace in Europe, the Dons and we incline,
The treaty seldom has much force—to the south’ard of the line.
Here’s wassailing and fighting, the merriest of lives,
With staunch and jovial comrades, with sweethearts and with wives.
We sweep the green savannahs, we storm the Spanish walls,
And we’re kings upon the water, by the grace of cannon balls.
Then ho! for pike and sabre cut, and bullets round your ears,
’Tis little he must care for these, would head the Buccaneers!’
Next morning, after being becalmed as usual in the interval between the land breeze and the regular trade wind, we kept pretty close in with the coast, looking anxiously for our bay, and we even feared that we had overshot our mark; but about noon the well-known rocks became visible, and presently thereafter we dashed up the Marmousettes, wondering what our comrades would take us for. There was no English flag aboard; but thinking that the folks ashore would recognise the cut of the boat sail which we carried along with us, we hoisted that to the mainmast head, and with this strange standard flying approached the beach. We could see no change in the bay, and hoped to find our friends all well. Presently, as we were rounding a wooded point, and just opening the huts, a musket was fired ashore among the trees, and we heard the loud, hoarse voice of Meinheer shouting that a strange ship was in the bay. At this moment, doubling the little cape I speak of, and furling up our sails as well as we could, we descried the whole of our party running about in great commotion upon the beach, shouting to each other, loading their pieces, and hammering their flints. Thereon, we all gave a great cheer together, and showed ourselves conspicuously above the bulwarks; on which, we being immediately recognised, they answered our cheer with loud exclamations, and, running to the canoe, came alongside just as our anchor fell three fathoms deep upon the white sand.
‘What ship is this?’ exclaimed Stout Jem, who was the first to leap upon deck.
‘She was the schooner Nostra Senora del Carmine,’ I replied; ‘but now she is a bold privateer, and will, I hope, never hear a Spanish name again.’
Then we related all the particulars of the schooner’s capture, and informed our comrades what a clever sea-boat she was, and how we thought that, were she well manned, we could not have a more proper ship for our purpose. And then we moored the schooner carefully, and Stout Jem inspected her both below and aloft very minutely, being exceedingly well pleased at the quantity of stores which were on board, and also at the smart appearance and weatherly look of our prize. So all the company being in high spirits, we set to work at once to victual the schooner, having ample supplies of provisions at hand, and into her we of course transferred what clothes and property of the kind we had saved from the attack upon the first settlement; and having finished our task by nightfall, the whole party embarked, and we towed the schooner to the middle of the bay, where we anchored, and Stout Jem then proclaimed that he meant to hold a grand sailing council upon deck. This is a ceremony always in use amongst the buccaneers, and at these consultations they settle the articles of the voyage, and assign to every man what his share shall be of the total amount of booty which may be captured.
CHAPTER XI.
THE BUCCANEERS PRESENTLY SET SAIL IN THE SCHOONER FOR
JAMAICA, WITH A RELATION OF THE EVENTS WHICH HAPPENED
THERE.
Behold us, then, seated in great conclave under an awning, which it was Stout Jem’s first precaution to have spread, as, the berths in the schooner being close and stifling, we desired to sleep in the open air. In such a case, the stretching of an awning preserves a crew from the fall of the unwholesome dews, and from the rays of the moon, which, mild and beautiful as they are, yet, by some hidden power, swell and distort the features of such as sleep with their faces unprotected from the baneful light. A sea-box put upon deck served as a table, and we sat on chests and coils of rope round it. The night was beautiful and serene. The land-breeze just murmured aloft, the sleeping water of the bay was dotted with the twinkling images of the stars, and all around the dusky hills flung their forest ridges high into the balmy air—wreaths of mist and vapour, like broad white ribbons, showing where the rich alluvial valleys and ravines clove the sweep of the wooded uplands.
Two or three lanterns stood upon the chest, glimmering on the pans and pipkins wherein we held our punch, and the fiery red sparks beneath every man’s face gave note that we all loved to fortify our frames against night air by wholesome pipes and tobacco. So, presently, Stout Jem addressed us pretty nearly in this fashion:
‘Well, mates, we sit on the deck of our own craft, lawfully won from those misbegotten Spaniards, by four brave men of our own party. Now, as the capture was made before we are afloat, the vessel, by the laws of the coast, belongs to our comrades who took her, and of course they must be paid duly, when the prize-money comes to be overhauled. Meantime, the question is, shall we straightway go to sea?’