Jack had no time to answer this letter, as, the breeze proving favourable, he was obliged to put to sea according to his instructions. During his run westward he kept a bright lookout for slavers in all directions. It was just daylight; a mist lay on the surface of the ocean, which completely shut out any object at a distance; while a light breeze from the South-east filled the brig’s sails and impelled her at the rate of two or three knots an hour through the water. Harry Bevan, who had joined from the frigate, was officer of the watch. The men, with trowsers tucked up and buckets in hand, were about to commence the operation of washing decks.
“I say,” exclaimed Tom, who had been sent forward on some duty, “I never believed in the great sea serpent, but, as sure as I’m alive, that must be the fellow right ahead, wriggling along at a tremendous rate! If you listen you’ll hear the noise he’s making!”
“Broken water ahead!” shouted the lookout forward.
“That I’m sure it cannot be!” said Bevan.
He, however, as a precaution, brought the brig to the wind, and directed Tom to call the commander. Jack was quickly on deck.
“Keep her away again!” he exclaimed, after he had examined the object which had so astonished Tom. “That is neither the head nor tail of the big sea serpent, but a shoal of turtles, which having come from the Bay of Honduras, are bound for the Cayman Islands, where they are going to lay their eggs?” he said, laughing heartily at Tom’s notion.
The brig was soon in the midst of them, their columns dividing to get out of her way. It was wonderful the noise they made, as their fins rapidly struck the water in their onward course. Soon afterwards the mist lifted, and the lofty trees which grew on the great Cayman could be seen rising out of the water some fifteen miles off, appearing like a grove of masts emerging from the ocean. Directly afterwards the mist, which still hung in the west, was swept away, exposing to view the sails of a square topsail schooner shining in the rays of the sun with snowy whiteness. Jack immediately ordered the brig to be kept away, and made all sail in chase. The schooner held her course for some time, but at length discovering that the brig had kept away, set also every stitch of canvas she could carry. This at once betrayed her character, for had she been an honest trader, she would have had no reason to run from an English brig.
The crew felt as eager to overtake her as did the commander. It was the first of this sort of work they had had, and they indulged with immense satisfaction in the idea of carrying back a prize full of slaves to Port Royal.
Long Tom was got ready for action, as it was not likely that the slaver, if such she was, would yield without making every effort to escape. The chase showed that she had a remarkably nimble pair of heels, for fast as the Supplejack was, after a couple of hours had passed by, she appeared to have gained little or nothing on her.
“Do you think we shall take her?” asked Tom of Needham, who had been appointed as gunner of the Supplejack.