It was late twilight, almost night, when this occurred; but the brig’s people could make out the figures of the men, as these clung on to the ratlines. And what seemed as surprising as their odd speech was, that both appeared to be clothed in skin-dresses, covering their bodies from head to foot!
Seeing the signal of distress, the brig’s commander would have sent a boat aboard; but the barque gave no chance for this—keeping on without slacking sail, or showing any other sign of a wish to communicate!
Standing by itself, the tale of the brig’s crew might have been taken for a sailor’s yarn; and as they admitted it to be “almost night,” the obscurity would account for the skin-clothing. But coupled with the report of another vessel, which the frigate had afterwards spoken—a whaler—it seemed to receive full corroboration. The words sent through the whaler’s trumpet were:—
“Barque sighted, latitude 10 degrees 22 minutes South, longitude 95 degrees West. Polacca-masted. All sail set. Ensign reversed. Chilian. Men seen on board covered with red hair, supposed skin-dresses. Tried to come up, but could not. Barque a fast sailer—went away down wind.”
Already in receipt of such intelligence, it is no wonder that the frigate’s crew feel something more than mere curiosity about a vessel corresponding to the one of which these queer accounts have been given. For they are now near enough the barque to see that she answers the description: “Polacca-masted—all sail set—ensign reversed—Chilian.”
And her behaviour is as reported: sailing away from those who would respond to her appealing signal, to all appearance endeavouring to shun them!
Only now has the chase in reality commenced. Hitherto the frigate was but keeping her own course. But the signal of distress, just sighted through the telescope, has drawn her on; and with canvas crowded, she steers straight for the polacca.
The latter is unquestionably a fast sailer; but although too swift for the brig and whaler, she is no match for the man-of-war. Still she makes quick way, and the chase is likely to be a long one.
As it continues, and the distance does not appear very much, or very rapidly, diminishing, the frigate’s people begin to doubt whether she will ever be overtaken. On the fore-deck the tars stand in groups, mingled with marines, their eyes bent upon the retreating craft, making their comments in muttered tones, many of the men with brows o’ercast. For a fancy has sprung up around the forecastle, that the chased barque is no barque at all, but a phantom! This is gradually growing into a belief; firmer as they draw nearer, and with naked eye note her correspondence with the reports of the spoken vessels.
They have not yet seen the skin-clad men—if men they be. More like, imagine some, they will prove spectres!