The Wind-Jammers

by T. Jenkins Hains

It might be supposed that the pirate wasted much time and energy for little gain taking junks. He dared not touch a white trader, and the junks were the easiest to handle. There was little left for him to prey upon, so he went along the Chinese coast like a ravenous shark, leaving a smoking wake behind, strewn with the blackened timbers of burned junks and dotted with the corpses of murdered men. Everything Chinese was game for his crew, and what he lost in quality of plunder he made up in quantity.

While the American ship lay in the Hoogla an accident occurred aboard which delayed her departure. During the time spent in making some of the necessary repairs Craven appeared at the mouth of the river, and was so bold that the English gunboat was at last prevailed upon to drive him away. The Sovereign met him some twenty miles off shore in the act of scuttling a captured junk. This was too much for the Englishman, and he fired a shot to drive him off. To his surprise Craven returned the fire. That settled the matter. The heavy Blakely rifle on the gunboat’s forecastle was trained upon the schooner, and it sent a shell that cut both masts out of her and left her helpless. Craven returned the fire with vigor, landing several telling shots. A heavy shell from the rifle was then fired at half a mile range, and struck the schooner in the stern above the water-line. It ranged forward, raking her whole length, and left her a burning wreck. She began settling rapidly by the head, and the gunboat, firing a parting broadside, which destroyed the schooner’s two boats, drew slowly away. The Englishman waited within sight until the schooner disappeared beneath the sea, and then, thinking it would be more merciful to let the crew remain in the water than to bring them ashore, steamed away for the river.

A few weeks after this a Spanish brig came in. She was a trader bound south, and the mate of the American ship made arrangements to take passage on her as far as Singapore to get some necessary supplies for his vessel.

The first person he met on rowing over to the brig to secure a passage was a small, peculiarly yellow man with a Spanish cast of features, who met him at the gangway and asked him his business before allowing him to come aboard. On telling his desire to secure a passage to the southward, he was peremptorily refused; but when he explained his business was urgent and that he had many necessary supplies to secure, the man at the gangway reconsidered the matter, and bade him wait alongside until he could consult his skipper, who was below suffering from an attack of gout in his leg.

In a little while he reappeared at the brig’s side and announced gruffly that he might bring his things aboard the following morning, as that was the time set for the brig’s sailing.

The next day the mate, Mr. Camp, came aboard the brig, and soon afterwards she was standing out to sea. There were two passengers besides himself aboard, Manila traders, who had come over from the Philippines and who wished to get to the southward.

When the brig had made an offing, Camp was surprised at the appearance of a most peculiar looking colored man, who limped up the companion-way to the poop. His skin was an orange-yellow, and appeared dry and dark in spots. His right leg was swathed in bloody rags, and he limped as if in some pain. He had an eye that glinted strangely as the mate came within its range of vision, and his face wore the determined look of a fighter who is making a desperate stand against heavy odds. In a quiet voice he addressed the man who had made the arrangement with the mate, Mr. Camp.

“Collins,” said he, “get me the glass. I believe I see a couple of birds making in along the beach for the harbor.” This he said in good English, with a slight Yankee accent, and Camp turned in astonishment to look at him more closely.

The man Collins, who was the mate of the brig, handed him the glass, and after a moment Craven laid it down with an oath.

“The two fellows we missed last week. They’ll loose off at having seen us, and that gunboat will be hard in our wake before night. You might send a few men aft to get to work on our passengers. They are poor whelps.”