Camp went towards him.
“I don’t understand what you mean by that last remark,” said he. “I am an American and wish a certain amount of civility aboard here.”
The skipper smiled grimly at him and sat upon the poop-rail.
“You’ll get the best the coast affords, my boy,” said he. “You’ll be a gentleman of leisure after you quit this hooker. This is the brig Cristobal, Captain Craven; and now you can make up your mind whether you will be a member of the ship’s company or try and float a twelve-pound shot. It’s piracy, says you? Well, it’s swim, then, says we, and good luck to you,” and he chuckled hoarsely, while several men came aft and stood by the mate for further orders.
Camp saw that it was death in a hideous form to disobey. Both he and the two Manila men were led below, where they swore allegiance to Craven and joined his crew. In a crisis of this nature a man even of strong mould is apt to think twice before accepting the inevitable. Time is valuable when one has but a few moments to live, and to gain it these three innocent men were glad to accept any terms. They were sent forward with the men and joined the crew, which now numbered fourteen hands. Here they learned how Craven and four men had clung to some of the wreck of his schooner for two days. Then the brig Cristobal picked them up in an exhausted state. Two days later Craven and his fellows quietly dropped the skipper overboard and announced to the crew their intention of taking charge of the brig. All who wished to could join. There were six unarmed men against five desperadoes armed to the teeth, and in a short time matters were settled satisfactorily. Craven was in command of a vessel and crew bound for China from the Philippines, and it was his humor to keep her on her course and have a look at things in the harbor. This he did to his satisfaction, and no opportunity offering for him to revenge himself upon the gunboat there, he took on some supplies and put to sea. When he met Camp at the break of the poop after the latter had joined, he became more communicative than usual.
“This color we have will soon wear off, my boy,” said he. “Collins there thought he knew something about medicine, and he broke open the medicine chest to get this iodine to paint us with. He’s a clown. The infernal stuff burned half the skin off, and that accounts for his looks. Where’s the skipper of this hooker, says you? Well, that depends somewhat on his morals. I don’t call to mind any island trader as will go to the heaven some old women pray for. A trader’s life is always a hard one, so I don’t think we did any harm in helping the fellow to something different, although he did struggle mighty hard to stay. Some religious people would call it bad to put yellow-skinned heathen overboard, but we don’t look at it that way. Most of these junk-men are no better than animals, and we do them a clean favor by ending their sufferings. Yes, sir, that’s the way to look at the matter, my son. There isn’t a man alive who can look back and see anything in his life worth living for and suffering for. It’s all in his mind’s eye that something will be better in the future. We know that’s all blamed nonsense, for that something better never comes, so in helping him to what’s coming to all of us we just do him a favor. Now, you are a likely chap, Camp, and I hope you’ll see the reason of things. Go below and tell one of the girls we got yesterday to give you your grog. Collins has the key. Then you want to bear a hand and get our little battery in working order. We’ll raise half a dozen junks before night and we’ve got a little business with the first one.”
In a short time all hands were hard at work getting the brig’s twelve-pounders in working order. In the late afternoon a lateen-sail showed above the horizon, and everything was ready for action. By night the junk ahead was still out of range, and the watch was set, and half the men went below to get some rest.
At two in the morning Camp was turned out, and the smudge on the lee bow showed that the brig would soon have the wind of the unsuspecting Chinaman. In half an hour Craven had him under his lee, and he paid off gradually until he brought him fair on his lee broadside, not two hundred feet distant. Then he swung up his ports and let go his battery, serving it with remarkable accuracy and rapidity.
The astonished Chinaman let go everything in the way of running gear, and the junk, which was running free, broached to and lay helpless, wallowing in the swell, with her deck crowded with screaming men. Craven then brought the Cristobal to, and taking the boat with four men, carried a line to the junk, and soon had her alongside.
The Chinamen were bound hand and foot after several who showed fight were killed. Then Craven had them transferred to the Cristobal, and with untiring energy went to work to transfer his ammunition and guns to the junk. It was noon before this was accomplished, and then he told the Chinaman who was the junk’s captain that he really owed him much for swapping such a fine Spanish brig for his worthless old hulk. In consideration of this debt he requested him to keep the brig on her course to the Peninsula, and crowd on all sail if he saw an English gunboat in his wake. If he failed, and showed such ingratitude as to disobey this request during the next twenty-four hours, he hinted in a mild way that he would overhaul him, and then fry him in whale-oil and serve him to his shipmates. As Craven was never known to make an idle threat, the conversation had its desired effect. The Cristobal stood away on her course with a Chinese crew, and Craven, bracing his lateen-sail sharp on the wind, headed slowly back again over the course he had just run.