The black flag commander was a short, thin, tiger-faced man. He was gaudily dressed, as were also some who seemed to be his lieutenants. As for his crew, they were of all sorts. They were the offscourings of several nations, including Englishmen, French, Dutch, and Africans. They were at this moment yelling savagely, as they loaded and fired their guns. Not one of these was larger than a short six-pounder, although there was an absurd number of them, considering the size of the vessel. She was schooner-rigged, but she was much more lightly constructed than the Noank. Her breadth of beam was somewhat greater, and she might be speedy. Precisely such craft were sometimes built for the slave trade. They were expected to carry only human cargoes, as a rule, and to make swift runs from African slave barracoons to American markets. Delays in such voyages implied heavy losses of black captives who would surely die in the hold.
"We will take the Yankee schooner first," was the decision of the pirate captain. "We must cripple the Spaniard, so she cannot get away. Two prizes are better than one. We need that schooner yonder, for our own trade."
Loud laughs and jeers replied to him from many scores of throats, for the buccaneer Leon was positively over-thronged with sea-wolves.
"Steady with the helm there!" rang out on board the Noank, as she arose like a duck upon the crest of a long sea.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan, as the sheet of flame sprang from the brazen lips of his long eighteen. "Whoop!"
"Struck her!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "That was a good shot!"
"Between wind and water!" shouted Sam Prentice, studying the pirate through his glass. "It took her as she heeled, and it knocked a hole in her you could roll a barrel through."
Whether or not any bodily harm had been done to any pirate, a chorus of astonished yells and imprecations went up from her crowded deck. All the ears there could hear and understand the crash of timbers under them, which had followed close upon the good shot of Up-na-tan.
"Praise God!" gasped the captain of the Santa Teresa. "Oh! Señor Alvarez! I never thought of that. It is one of the new American colonial cruisers. They carry heavy guns. Their men are as brave as lions. All the saints be merciful and help them to shoot straight!"
"Amen!" groaned the señor. "Laura! My dear wife! The Americans are armed! We have some hope!"