Chapter Three.
My shipmates—Tom Tubbs the boatswain—Sight a suspicious craft—Alter our course to avoid her—Chased—A heavy squall—A thick mist—We hope to escape—The stranger reappears—Night comes on and we low sight of her—Once more the stranger is seen in hot chase—Opens fire—Desperate fight—We attempt to rake the enemy—He frustrates it—The enemy hoists the pirate flag—Boards us—Our crew overcome—The captain and boatswain, Harry and I, fight desperately—Captain Trunnion appears—Spares our lives—Dreadful state of the deck—Tom, Harry, and I taken on board the “Vulture”—Captain Magor ordered to navigate the “Arrow” into the Sherbro—The vessels part company.
Harry and I soon got our sea-legs, for although when we sailed the weather was fine, before we were well clear of the Irish Channel it began to blow fresh, and a heavy sea ran, which tumbled the vessel about not a little. We both quickly made the acquaintance of the officers and crew, for we did not consider it beneath our dignity as supercargoes to talk to our ship mates of lower rank. We were well repaid by the confidence they bestowed upon us, and the histories of their lives and adventures which they narrated. Although rough in their ways, they possessed many of the best qualities in human nature. The mates were, as I before said, good steady men, fair navigators, who could be trusted on all occasions, and had been chosen for these qualifications by Captain Magor, to whom they had long been known. Our chief friend was Tom Tubbs, the boatswain. Tom would have risen to a higher rank, but he was destitute of the accomplishments of reading and writing, though having to some purpose studied the book of nature, he possessed more useful knowledge than many of his fellow-men. He, like Tom Bowling, was the darling of the crew; for although he wielded his authority with a taut hand, he could be lenient when he thought it advisable, and was ever ready to do a kind action to any of his shipmates. He could always get them to do anything he wanted; for, instead of swearing at them, he used endearing expressions, such as “My loves,” “My dear boys,” “My charming lads.” Thus, “My darlings,” he would sing out, “be smart in handling that fore-topgallantsail,” or “Take down two reefs in the topsails, my cherubs,” or when setting studding-sails, he would sing out, “Haul away, my angels,” or again, when shortening sail, “Clew up—haul down, my lovely dears.” He varied his expressions, however, according to the urgency of the case. If more speed was required, the more endearing were his words. I won’t undertake to say that he did not sometimes rap out words of a very different signification, but that was only in extreme cases, when all others seemed to fail, or he had exhausted his vocabulary; but the men did not mind it a bit, for it only showed them that they must exert all their strength and activity if the masts were to be saved or the ship preserved from capsizing, or any other catastrophe prevented. The men were well aware of the motive which induced him to use strong expressions. We had two black men, who, having long served on board merchant vessels, spoke English pretty well. One of them, called Quambo, acted as steward; the other, Sambo, being ship’s cook, spent a good portion of his time in the caboose, from which he carried on a conversation on either side with the men who happened to be congregated there. He, as well as Quambo, had to do duty as a seaman, and active fellows they were, as good hands as any of the crew. Sambo, besides his other accomplishments, could play the fiddle, and in calm weather the merry tones of his instrument would set all the crew dancing, making even Tom Tubbs shuffle about out of sight of the officers; for it would have been derogatory, he considered, to have been seen thus conducting himself in public. We had an Irishman, a Scotchman, three Finns, and a Portuguese, who was generally known as “Portinggall.” The captain and the rest were Englishmen, two of whom had seen better days. One had been a schoolmaster and the other a lawyer’s clerk. There was also a runaway from home of gentle birth, but who had so long mixed with rough characters, that not a trace of the good manners he once possessed remained by him.
We had got into the latitude of the Cape de Verde islands, and were looking out for the African coast, the wind being about east, when about two hours after noon the look-out at the masthead shouted, “A sail in sight on the larboard bow.”
On hearing this, the first mate, with a glass slung over his shoulder, went aloft to have a look at the stranger. He was sometime there, and when he returned on deck I thought by his countenance that he did not like her appearance.
“She’s ship rigged, going free, and standing this way, sir,” he said to the captain; “and if we keep on our present course she will be within hail of us within a couple of hours at furthest. She may be a man-of-war cruiser, or an enemy’s privateer, or an honest trader; but were she that, I don’t see why she should be standing this way, unless she thinks the wind will shift, and she wishes to get a good offing from Cape de Verde. Or else she may be one of the picarooning craft which we have heard of on this coast, although it has never been my ill luck to fall in with them.”
“But it has been mine; and though I had the good fortune to get clear of the rascal, I never wish to meet with one of her class again; and so, in case yonder craft should be of that character, or an enemy’s privateer, we shall do well to stand clear of her,” said Captain Magor; “and although we may lose a day or two, that will be better than running the risk of being captured or sent to the bottom. All hands make sail—up with the helm—square away the yards. Rig out the studding-sail booms, Mr Sherwin,” he added, addressing the first mate as soon as the ship was before the wind.
The boatswain sounded his whistle. “Be smart there, my sweet lads,” he cried out. “Haul away, my lovely cherubs, on the starboard studding-sail halyards. Belay all that, my charmers;” and so he went on whistling and shouting, until we had studding-sails extended below and aloft on either side, and both royals set, and were running along at the rate of some seven or eight knots an hour before a light breeze.
Harry and I on all occasions lent a hand when we thought we could be of use, and Tom did not fail to bestow his approving remarks upon us. The first mate now went aloft to ascertain whether the stranger had again altered her course, or whether she was standing on as before, in which case we hoped to run her out of sight, when we could again haul on the wind. He remained some time aloft. When he came down he looked even grave than before.
“It is as I feared, sir. The fellow has clapped on all sail and is standing after us. It is a question which has the fastest pair of heels. If we can keep well ahead until nightfall, we may then alter our course and get clear of her.”