The sunset that evening was clear, promising a fine night, while the wind held steady and fair. We were consequently all in high spirits at the prospect of a quick and pleasant passage to Sierra Leone. But as the night advanced a bank of heavy cloud gradually gathered on the horizon to the northward, and the wind began to back round and freshen somewhat, so that about midnight it again became necessary to double-reef our canvas, while the sea once more rose to such an extent that the boats were soon shipping an unpleasant quantity of water over the weather bow. Moreover the wind continued to back until we were broken off a couple of points from our course; so that, altogether, it finally began to look very much as though we were in for another unpleasant night, though perhaps not quite so bad as the one that had preceded it. It is true that we were not just then in any actual danger, for, after all, the strength of the wind was no more than that to which the Shark would show single-reefed topsails. But it was more than enough for us, under the canvas which we were carrying, and I had just given the order to haul down a third reef when one of the men who was engaged upon the task of shortening sail suddenly paused in his work and gazed out intently to windward under the sharp of his hand. The next moment he shouted excitedly:
“Sail ho! two points on the weather bow. D’ye see her, sir? There she is. Ah, now I’ve lost her again; but you’ll see her, sir, when we lifts on the top of the next sea. There—now do you see her, sir, just under that patch of black cloud?”
“Ay, ay, I see her,” I answered; for as the man spoke I caught sight of a small dark blur, which I knew must be a ship of some sort, showing indistinctly against the somewhat lighter background of cloud behind her. She was about two miles away, and was steering a course that would carry her across our bows at a distance of about a quarter of a mile if we all held on as we were going; and for a moment I wondered whether it was our enemy the pirate brig again putting in an appearance. But an instant’s reflection sufficed to dissipate this idea, for, according to all the probabilities, the pirates ought by this time to be well on toward a hundred miles to the eastward of us, while the stranger was coming down, with squared yards, from the northward.
“We must contrive to attract the attention of that craft and get her to pick us up,” I cried. “Have we anything in the boat from which we can make a flare?”
A hurried search was rewarded by the production of a piece of old tarpaulin that we were using as a cover and protection to our stock of provisions; and a long strip of this was hurriedly torn off, liberally sprinkled with the oil that still remained in the drum, twisted tightly up, and ignited. The flame sputtered a bit at first, probably from the fact that sea water had penetrated to the interior of the drum and mingled to a certain extent with the oil; but presently our improvised flare burst into a bright ruddy flame, which lighted up the hulls and sails of the boats and was reflected in broad red splashes of colour from the tumbling seas that came sweeping steadily down upon us.
All eyes were now eagerly directed toward the approaching ship, of which, however, we entirely lost sight in the dazzling glare of our torch. But when, after blazing fiercely for about a couple of minutes, until it was consumed, our flare went out and left us once more in darkness, there was no answering signal from the stranger, which was coming down fast before the steadily strengthening breeze.
“Make another one, lads, and light it as quickly as you can,” I cried. “We must not let her slip past us. Our lives may depend upon our ability to attract her attention and get her to pick us up. But what is the matter with them aboard there that they have not seen us? Their look-outs must be fast asleep.”
“She’s a trader of some sort, sir; that’s what’s the matter with her,” answered one of the men. “If she was a man-o’-war, or a slaver, there’d be a better look-out kept aboard of her. If I had my way them chaps what’s supposed to be keepin’ a look-out should get six dozen at the gangway to-morrer mornin’.”
“Hurry up with that flare, lads,” I exhorted. “Be as quick with it as you like.”
“Ay, ay, sir! we shall be ready now in the twinklin’ of a purser’s lantern,” answered the man who was preparing the torch. “Now, Tom, where’s that there binnacle lamp again? Shield it from the wind with your cap, man, so’s it don’t get blowed out while I sets fire to this here flare.”