The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The signal for the fleet to weigh was already flying from the commodore’s masthead, the steamers were getting up their steam, dense volumes of smoke issuing from their funnels, from the yards of the sailing-vessels folds upon folds of snowy canvas were being let fall in all directions, while the boats which had been absent were hurrying back to their respective ships. Two or three men-of-war alone were left at the mouth of the river, to prevent any of the enemy’s vessels from escaping, and to keep up the communication with the admiral at Monte Video.

“Come, this is something like work; I wish we were among them,” exclaimed Terence; “they will have rare fun going up the river.”

“Our turn will come, depend on that,” answered Jack; “Rosas is not likely to let us pass without giving us a taste of his flying artillery.”

The Supplejack was some hours in reaching the mouth of the river, in which it was reported that one of the enemy’s vessels, a schooner, had taken refuge. Darkness soon coming on, Jack was obliged to anchor, and await for daylight to proceed up it. A sharp lookout was kept, however, to prevent any vessel from passing down during the night, without his knowledge.

Two boats were in the water alongside, and their crews, with cutlasses in their hands, and pistols in their belts, were ready to start at a moment’s notice. The night was calm and clear, and the shores on either hand could be distinguished with the dark line of the forest, which extended down to the water. Silence reigned over the scene, though it was occasionally broken by strange cries which came out from among the tall trees, probably the death-shriek of some animal, seized by a prowling jaguar or puma.

Jack and Terence got all the information they could out of José Gonzalves, who had been frequently up the river, and felt pretty certain as to the locality where the schooner was likely to be found.

The brig was brought up in a bay or bend of the river, a point running out ahead, and concealing her from any vessel coming down the stream till close upon her. This was a disadvantage in one respect, as an approaching enemy could not, for the same cause, be seen from the Supplejack, and only a short time, therefore, could be allowed for getting under weigh. Jack had given orders that the bell should not be struck, lest, should the schooner, or any other vessel, attempt to slip out, it might give notice of the vicinity of the brig.

Jack and Terence had turned in just about the commencement of the morning watch. Needham, who was on the lookout, observed beyond the point above the trees a white spot, on which the light of the moon, just then emerging from behind a cloud, shone brightly. Guessing at once, that it was the head of the schooner’s fore-topgallant-sail, he sent to call the commander. Jack and Terence were on deck in an instant; the latter jumped into one of the boats and pulled across the stream to intercept the stranger, while Jack ordered the anchor to be got up, and sail to be made. The wind came off from the shore on the starboard side, so that though the schooner might manage to get out, the brig could also make her way up the stream.

“We shall catch her now, at all events—she is trapped,” said Jack to Needham. The schooner’s jib was seen coming round the point, which she was compelled to hug closely. Jack might have done better by remaining at anchor, as the schooner would not have so soon discovered the foe lying in wait for her. Directly the brig was perceived she put up her helm, and, quickly easing off her mainsheet, ran again up the river with the wind on her starboard quarter. Jack had to wait some time to pick up his boat, when making all sail, he stood after the schooner, with no little risk of getting on shore, though José Gonzalves affirmed that he knew every inch of ground. The lead, however, was kept going, and Jack hoped by keeping as much as possible in the middle of the stream to avoid such a catastrophe.

The chase had had a good start, and now getting into a reach where the wind blew right aft, she was able to set studding-sails, when being very light, she ran through the water even faster than before. She was too directly ahead to enable Jack to fire “Long Tom” at her, unless he yawed considerably. He got, however, at last to the end of a reach, which brought the schooner on his port bow. Needham had been eagerly on the watch for the opportunity. The shot flew through the lower sails of the chase, but no spars were carried away, and she stood on, rapidly increasing her distance from her pursuer.