The Missing Ship: The Log of the "Ouzel" Galley

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“That vessel may be the Ouzel Galley, but Owen Massey would never hoist such a piece of bunting as that,” cried Captain Tracy, who, having again taken the telescope, was looking towards the stranger, which had just then run up to her fore topgallant mast-head a black flag with the well-known pirate’s device of a death’s head and cross-bones. The object was evidently to intimidate the crew of the chase.

Directly afterwards the stranger yawed and fired her foremost gun. The shot came flying across the water, but, after several times striking the surface, sank short of the Research. There was no longer any doubt of the character of the stranger.

“Lads,” cried Captain Tracy, “you see that flag! Death or worse than death will be our lot if we don’t beat off the piccarooning villains who have hoisted it. They think to frighten us; but stand to your guns like men, and we’ll beat her off.” The crew cheered, and promised to do their duty.

Norah had not heard the sound of the gun fired by the pirate, but the men’s hearty cheers reaching the cabin, she hurried on deck to learn what caused them. Just as she appeared, the pirate, again yawing, fired three shot in rapid succession, one of which glanced along the side of the Research. Captain Tracy had just ordered two guns to be brought aft, and the crew were engaged in the operation, when, seeing Norah, he begged Captain O’Brien to take her below and to place her where she could be out of the way of harm. She had seen enough, however, to show her the state of affairs; her fears were realised.

“Come away, my dear,” said the old captain, taking her hand. “Bound shot are ugly playthings for young ladies, and the sooner we get you stowed safely away the more ready we shall be to carry on the game with yonder gentleman. We’ll beat him, so don’t be alarmed when you hear our guns firing. Perhaps we shall knock some of his spars away, and we shall then take the liberty of leaving him to repair damages at his leisure.”

Captain O’Brien thus talked on, endeavouring to keep up Sarah’s spirits, as he conducted her to a secure place in the hold, which, with the help of the cook and steward, he set about arranging for her. It reminded her of the place to which she and Gerald had been sent on board the Ouzel Galley, when her father and Owen, with their handful of men, had so bravely fought the famous Captain Thurot and his numerous crew. The recollection of that event encouraged her to hope that the well-manned Research would beat off a vessel much larger than herself, however desperately the pirate’s ruffianly crew might fight. She sat with her hands clasped, endeavouring to retain her composure. She would have been thankful for any occupation, but she could do nothing but sit still and wait for the result of the impending fight—yes, she could pray; and earnestly she did so, that her beloved father and his friends might be protected from the shot of the foe.

When Captain O’Brien returned on deck, he found that the two guns had been pointed through the stern-ports. The match was applied, and both were fired by the first mate in quick succession; but no visible effect was produced on the enemy’s spars.

“Run them in, my lads, and load again,” cried Captain Tracy. “Let me see what I can do; if we can wing the pirate, we shall be saved further trouble.” Running his eye along one of the guns, he fired; Captain O’Brien at the same time discharging the other. Looking through his telescope, Captain Tracy uttered an exclamation of impatience as he could discover no damage caused by the shot on the pirate’s rigging. The broad spread of white canvas remained extended as before to the yards. “We must try again and again till we succeed,” he exclaimed; “maybe we shall have better luck next time.” While the guns were being run in and loaded, he turned his telescope towards the island, which was now broad on the starboard beam. “Why, as I live, there is a British ensign flying above what looks very like a fort in the centre of the island!” he exclaimed. “If there is anchorage under it, we can run in and set the pirate at defiance. He does not appear to have discovered the fort, or he would not venture so near it.”

Captain O’Brien took the glass, and minutely examined the coast. “I see no opening between the reefs through which we could get up anywhere near the fort,” he observed. “Were we to attempt to run in, we should very probably get the ship on the rocks, and be far worse off than we are likely to be if we stand on and trust to our guns to beat off the piccaroon. Though the sea is so smooth here, the surf is breaking heavily on the reefs and shore. If you’ll take my advice, you’ll not make the attempt. There must be Englishmen on the island, though how they came there is more than I can say, but I am very sure that, on seeing a British ship chased by a pirate, they would come off to our assistance if they could launch their boats through the surf.”

Captain Tracy acknowledged that his friend was right. To stand in closer to the reefs in order to look for an opening through them would be, should one not be found, to allow the pirate to come up and attack them with rocks close aboard.