Having in vain tried to steam off and after running his crew backward and forward upon the upper deck, Woodward ordered the foremost guns to be transported aft, and then repeating his tactics, found the ship once more floated, whereupon the guns were returned to their proper positions, and they awaited the arrival of the pirates, who were about a mile distant. Upon her starboard bow were five large junks, the foremost of which was doubtless the flagship, it being beautifully painted and gilded, while on the port bow were four smaller craft letting off crackers, and making a great din with their gongs. When their guns arrived within range they commenced firing their bow chasers, Woodward surveying them through his glass as coolly as though they were performing their evolutions for his amusement. The shot flew over the Stinger, and now and then one would strike her hull, but there stood the captain quiet and undaunted, while his men, taking example from him, were as still as statues. Suddenly a heavy shot struck the funnel, near which he was standing, and cut a piece clean out of it, when he quietly lifted the handle of the engine-room bell, and rang out, "Go ahead, full speed," then waved his orders to the first lieutenant and master, stationed along the deck, who transmitted them to the men at the wheel.
In a short time they reached the junks, but still no signal was given to fire, although the pirates were blazing away furiously, and some stray shots struck the hull and rigging. The men, who were all crouched down behind their guns, wondered when they were to commence, and now and then would peer over the pieces and watch the unmoved commander. At last, just as they got abreast of the foremost junks, between which he had steered, the words "Commence firing" rang out from Woodward's lips, and at the same instant he signalled "Stop her" to the engineers.
The men sprang up with a cheer of defiance, and poured a discharge of grape and canister into the junks on either side, (flash) bang (flash—flash—flash) bang—bang—bang—(flash) bang; and the excited sailors loaded and fired with tremendous energy. In a very short time a thick pall of smoke completely enveloped the ship, and with great difficulty the captain managed to keep her in position between the line of junks—she in the mean time drifting slowly ahead. After the first few discharges the men lost their hearing through the stunning reports, and would vainly bawl at each other, while their bodies were grimed with the smoke of the powder, every one of them being stripped to the waist. The powder-monkeys were as active as their namesakes, feeling their way in the thick smoke, so as to avoid being knocked down by the rammers or sponges, and cautiously treading clear of the tackle laid along the decks. It was wonderful how clever the youngsters were, and with what accuracy they would return to their own guns, although it was impossible to see them. The flashes, which at first dazzled their eyes, now merely made them blink for a moment, while their dulled ears only heard a faint boom, and after a time did not notice even that.
Woodward sprang up aloft, and saw the ship was heading right, and that the first two junks which they had passed were on fire. Upon his return to the deck he met the master, who bawled something in his ear; but as he could not understand what he said,[1] he motioned him to go aloft, and keep a look-out.
Although the Stinger steamed quite slowly between the lines of junks, she had not lost a man; and the pirates being unable to depress their guns sufficiently to hit the ship very often, had actually been firing into each other. When Woodward found that the shots were striking the ship in an oblique direction he rang the signal, "Go ahead, full speed," and in a short time was clear of the junks, which, however, kept firing away at each other for some thirty minutes.
After they discovered their mistake he came to anchor, and putting on a spring, raked them fore and aft with grape and canister. In a short time the two lines of junks closed upon each other; and as they were nearly all on fire, the pirates abandoned them, and took to the water. Much to Woodward's chagrin, he observed that the big junk, which he supposed was commanded by Yaou-chung in person, had managed to put out her fire, and was escaping through the passage to the sea; however, as it was impossible to pass the burning vessels, he steamed up the bay, and landed at a town about five miles from the entrance.
The Taontai came down to receive him, and Woodward found that the pirates had that morning entered the place to collect tribute when they were overtaken and destroyed by the Stinger; and so grateful were the townspeople, or rather their governor, that he offered the ransom money to the captain, who of course declined the gift. Woodward did not want to risk his ship too near the burning junks, and he showed his prudence, for about 9 A.M. two of them blew up, and shortly afterwards the others followed; and as the explosions seemed to blow out every vestige of flame, they floated about the bay mere shapeless hulks, and became a prey to the swarms of thieves, who went out of the city in boats to pick up wood or any loot which they might be lucky enough to come across.
Seeing the mouth of the bay clear, the captain bade the civil Taontai adieu, and steamed out to sea in search of Yaou-chung's junk. Upon clearing the headland at the mouth of the harbour they beheld the pirate with all sail set standing out to sea, but as soon as he saw them he trimmed his sails, and ran behind Haetan. Now, Woodward knew there was no shelter for the pirate upon the weather side of the island, so he altered his course, and steamed along to leeward, expecting to catch the junk as it rounded the opposite point; but Yaou-chung was too smart for him, as he had anchored, it being a calm day, just round the point behind which Woodward saw him disappear.
Having waited for two hours, the captain proceeded round the further point, and, to his annoyance, saw the pirate standing out to sea, with his sails so closely hauled, that he seemed to be going in the wind's eye. Now, every nautical writer has described a stern chase, and doubtless the old adage "A stern chase is a long chase" has been sufficiently hackneyed, but it was a very long one upon this occasion, as it must be remembered the Stinger was only an auxiliary screw, and it was quite dusk before they overhauled the plucky Chinaman.