The Black Buccaneer

  CHAPTER XI

  When the gang of buccaneers had tumbled down the hatch after Jeremy'scry of warning, Job Howland, barely awake, had leaped to the narrowangle that made the forward end of the fo'c's'le, seizing a pistol as hewent. Intrenching himself behind a chest, with the bulkhead behind himand on both sides, he had kept the maddened crew at bay for severalmoments. The pistol, covering the only path of attack, made them wary ofapproaching too close. When, finally, a half-dozen jumped forward atonce, he pulled the trigger only to find that the weapon had not beenloaded. In desperation he grasped the muzzle in his hand and struck outfiercely with the heavy butt, beating off his assailants time aftertime. This was well enough at first, but the buccaneers, who cared muchless for a broken crown than for a bullet wound, pressed in closer andcloser, striking with fists and marline-spikes. It was soon over. Theyjammed him so far into the corner than his tireless arm no longer hadfree play, and then bore him down under sheer weight of numbers. When heceased to struggle they seized him fast and carried him to the deck.

  Job was out of breath and much bruised but had suffered no lasting hurt.He saw Jeremy led forward, heard the men's cries and realized that thetorture was in store for them both.

  Unbound, but helpless to interfere, he saw the boy stretched on the deckand the rope attached to his arms and legs. He suffered greater agonythan did Jeremy as the crew made ready to begin their awful work, for hehad seen keelhauling before. And then suddenly Stede Bonnet was standingby the companion and the ringing shout that saved the boy's life struckon Job's ears. He could hardly keep from cheering the Captain then andthere, but relief at Jeremy's delivery brought with it a return of hisquick wits. He himself was in as great danger as ever.

  He was facing aft, and his eye, roving the deck for a means of escape,lit on the brig's boat, which the pirates had tied astern afterreboarding the sloop. She was trailing at the end of a painter, her bowsrising and falling on the choppy waves. He waited only long enough tosee that the Captain succeeded in freeing Jeremy, then drew a greatbreath and plunged over the side. Swimming under water, he watched forthe towed longboat to come by overhead, and as her dark bulk passed, hecaught her keel with a strong grip of his fingers, worked his way backand came up gasping, his hands holding to the rudder ring in her stern.

  The hot, still days had warmed the surface of the sea to a temperaturefar above the normal, or he must certainly have become exhausted in ashort time. As it was, he clung to his ring till near noon, when,cautiously peering above the gunwale, he saw the sloop's deck empty savefor a steersman, half asleep in the hot sun by the tiller. With a greatwrench of his arms the ex-buccaneer lifted himself over the stern andslipped as quietly as he was able into the boat's bottom. There he laybreathless, listening for sounds of alarm aboard the sloop. None cameand after a few moments he wriggled forward and made himself snug underthe bow-thwart. The boat carried a water-beaker and a can of biscuit foremergency use. After refreshing himself with these and drying out histhin clothing in the sun, he retreated under the shade of the thwart andslept the sleep of utter fatigue.

  Late the next day he took a brief observation of the horizon. There wassandy shore to the east and from what he knew of the coast and theship's course he judged they must be nearing the entrance to DelawareBay. His long rest had restored to him most of his vigor and although hewas sore in many places, he felt perfectly ready to try an escape assoon as the sloop should approach the land and offer him anopportunity.

  As the night went on the _Royal James_ made good speed up the Bay aidedby a strong tide. A little while before light she came close enough tothe west shore for Job to see the outlines of trees on a bluff. Hefigured the distance to be not above a mile at most. There was somequestion in his mind whether he should cut the painter and use the boatin getting away or swim for it. He decided that it would be better forhim in most ways if the pirates still supposed him dead. So, quietly asan otter, he slipped over the gunwale, paddled away from the boat's sideand set out for the land, ploughing through the water with a longoverarm stroke.

  Job had a hard fight with the turning tide before the trees loomed abovehis head and his feet scraped gravel under the bank. When at last hecrept gasping out upon dry ground, it was miles to the southward of hisfirst destination. Dawn had come and the early light silvered therippling cross-swells and glinted on the white wings of the gulls. Thebig mariner shook the water from his sides like a spaniel, stretchedboth long arms to the warm sky, laughed as he thought of his escape andturning his gaunt face to the northward set out swiftly along thetree-clad bluffs.