At sundown we came upon a lagging ship of the fleet and took her without a fight, and with her something of gold and silver, but no great sum. We put a prize crew aboard but soon called them off again and left the ship to go her voyage.
There was enough profit in this plunder to cheer our people, and they became hungry for more. A few days thereafter we spied another sail and, getting up our anchor, stood to her. Before we came up to her a haze fell over the sea, which presently turned to a thick fog, thereby favoring Mr. Every’s enterprise by allowing him to get close and make a sort of surprise.
When nigh enough we sent a shot across her bows; but she, fearing that we were a lawless ship, refused to heave back but hauled to the wind and made off. With the breeze on our starboard quarter, despite the fog we kept her in sight; and, being the better sailer, we drew down upon her, so near that we made her out to be the Gunsway, East Indiaman.
Mr. Every now yawed his ship occasionally as he worked for the range; but they opened first at us, giving us a load from their stern-chasers, which split our larboard foreyard arm and might, had it been a little cleaner break, put us out of the pursuit. Mr. Every replied with our bow-chasers, which we learned afterward did them little hurt.
Our captain, wishing to get the range for his broadside more quickly and the Gunsway beginning to show a chance of escape, we put our helm down hard, and, coming athwart the bow, fell foul of the Gunsway, so that our larboard cathead was abreast her starboard gangway. Here we fought muzzle to muzzle—they with brass cannon, we with our iron ones—as pretty a fight as ever I saw since the days of the old Hector and the battle of Bergen.
If we had had to fight it out in this fashion the event might have been uncertain, but Mr. Every—who as I have said was a fine seaman—cunningly disengaged his ship and managed to back her clear of the Gunsway and then, bearing up under her stern, let go a broadside.
That finished a fight which could not have been longer than an hour. The Indiaman put out the white flag; nor could he do less, seeing his hull and rigging were badly hit and ten of his men lay dead about his guns. Half a dozen of the pirates were killed and not a few wounded.
During the battle I hauled ammunition and dragged off the wounded to the hold,—to shirk here would have been to buy a quick end to my life.
Over the bulwarks of the Gunsway our villains poured and ran greedily about the ship, looking for loot. Presently a great shout went up, and four men ran from the master’s cabin bearing brass-bound coffers,—the ship’s treasure.
Somebody with an ax smashed the fastenings, and over the decks there spilled great piles of gold and silver coins; of pieces-of-eight, for instance, we afterwards counted not less than one hundred thousand. Add to this the same number of chequins[11] and you can see that Mr. Every had made his fortune.