CHAPTER XX
It had been about the beginning of September when the pirate fleet hadsighted the live oaks on the bars of the Cape Fear River. To Bob andJeremy those first days were uneventful but hardly pleasant. Through thelong still afternoons a pitiless sun blazed into every corner of thedeck. Wide flats and hot-looking white dunes stretched away on eitherhand. Only the line of woods half a mile distant offered a suggestion ofgreen coolness. When the sun had set the fo'c's'le held the heat like abaker's oven. One long, tossing night of it sufficed for the two boys,and after that they sought a corner of the deck away from the snoringseamen and lying down on the bare planks, contrived to sleep inreasonable comfort.
The days were spent in hard work for the most part. A good deal ofwashing and cleaning had to be done aboard all three vessels, and aslabor requiring no special skill, it fell frequently to the lot ofJeremy and Bob. It was small matter to them whether they toiled or wereidle, for the blistering sun allowed no respite and it seemed preferableto sweat over something useful than over nothing at all.
On the third day after the return of the _James_ from her foraging trip,Jeremy, who had been scraping and tarring ropes for hours on end,straightened his back with a discontented grunt and looked away to theedge of the woods, his eyebrows puckered in a frown. "Bob," he said in avoice too low for any of their shipmates to hear, "Bob, I'm going to runaway if something doesn't happen soon."
"You'll be shot, like as not," answered the Delaware boy.
"Well, shot let it be," he replied doggedly. "If I'm to stay aboard hereall my life, I'd _rather_ be shot. It looks like the best chance we'vehad, right now. Will you come tonight?"
Bob thought for a moment. "I'm not afraid of their catching us," hefinally said. "It's the Indians, after we're into the woods. You say youknow the Indians and trust them as long as they are treated right. Thatmay be true of the ones you've known, but these Tuscaroras aredifferent. They don't talk the same language, and those words youlearned would mayhap go for curses down here. I don't think we ought totry it."
Jeremy admitted that his previous acquaintance stood for nothing, butargued, from the fact that Bonnet had been trying to frighten them, thathe had probably exaggerated the danger. Finally, not wishing to leavehis friend if he could help it, he agreed to abandon the plan for thepresent.
They worked at the rope-tarring till suppertime, then rose wearily,stretching, and went for their salt-horse and biscuit. When the coarserations were eaten, it was nearly sunset. Jeremy watched the sluggishwater glide by below the canted rail, till at last small quivering blursof light, the reflections of stars, began to gleam in the ripples. Afaint breeze, sprung up with the coming of night, blew across thesweltering lagoon. Bob, tired out, fell asleep, his head pillowed on thedeck. The pirates, some below in the bunks, some stretched on theplanking, lay like dead men. After the hard labor of the day even theregular watch slumbered undisturbed. Jeremy's thoughts went drifting offinto half-dreams as the soft black water lulled him with its unendingwhisper. His head nodded. He raised it, striving, he knew not why, tokeep awake. The gentle water-sounds crept in again, soothing his drowsyears. He was close to sleep--so close that another moment would havetaken him across the border. But in that little time the sharp doublecry of a heron, flying high over the lagoon, cut the night air andstartled the boy broad awake.
As he stared off over the dim whiteness of the bars, his senses astretchfor a repetition of that weird call, there was a faint splashing in thewater close to the sloop. One of the starpools was blotted out inblackness at the instant he turned to look over the rail. The boy'sheart seemed to be beating against the roof of his mouth. Thoughts ofalligators crossed his mind, for he had heard of them from the pirateswho had plied in southern waters. As quietly as he could, he moved tothe rail and stood staring over, his eyes bulging into the dark and hisbreath coming short and fast. For perhaps a minute there was no sightnor sound but the lapping water of the lagoon. Then he became aware of awhiteness drifting close, and heard a familiar voice whispering hisname. "Jeremy--Jeremy--it's Job!" said the white blotch. It bumpedsoftly along the side, and at last the boy could see the homely featuresof his old friend, pale through the gloom. There was a loose rope-enddragging over the side, and Job's hand feeling along the woodwork camein contact with it.
"Better not try to come aboard," whispered Jeremy. "They're all on deckhere. Can you take us off?"
There was silence for an instant as Job felt for a hold in one of thegun ports. Then he raised himself till his head was level with the deck.
"Is the other lad there?" he asked.
"Ay," replied Jeremy. "He's here but he will have to be wakened."
"Don't say a word--sh!--easy there--are you awake?"]
"Go to him and take his hand. Begin squeezing soft-like, and pressharder till he opens his eyes. Don't startle him," was Job's admonition.
The boy did as he was bid. A gentle grip on the Delaware lad's palmbrought him to his senses. Jeremy was whispering in a cool, steadyundertone, "Bob, that's the lad--wake up, Bob--don't say aword--sh!--easy there--are you awake?" When he was rewarded by a nod ofcomprehension, he told his comrade of Job's presence and the chance theyhad to escape. Bob understood in a moment. They returned to the rail andfirst one, then the other let himself quietly down, holding to the rope.Jeremy slipped into the water last.
Luckily they could both swim, though the sloop was so near the beachthat swimming was hardly necessary. The tall ex-pirate crawled out uponthe sand in the lead and they followed him quickly over a dune andacross another creek. They were now far enough away for their flight tobe unheard and Job began to run, the boys close behind him. They made agood mile to the south before he allowed his panting runaways to stopfor breath. There in the reeds beside a narrow estuary, they came upon asmall dinghy, pulled up. The seaman ran the boat into the water, bundledthe boys into the bottom astern, and was quickly pulling down streamalong the sharp windings of the creek.
When they had put three miles of sand and water behind them, Job restedon his oars to catch his breath. His voice came through the hot dark,pantingly. "Lucky you stood up an' came to the rail the way you did,lad," he said. "I didn't know just how I was to reach you. When you cameto the side I could see it was a boy, an' knew things was all right.Well--we'd best be gettin' on--no tellin' how soon they may find you'regone." Once more the big Yankee bowed his back to the task in hand and asilence fell, broken only by the faint sound of the muffled oars and theswirl of water along the sides. Not even the thrill of the escape couldkeep the two tired boys awake, and it was nearly an hour later that theywere roused by voices calling at no great distance. A tall black mass onwhich showed a single moving light rose out of the gloom ahead. The hailwas repeated. "Oh, there, Job Howland--boat ahoy! What luck?" "All'swell," replied Job, and ran in under the ship's counter. A line was letdown and as soon as the skiff was made fast Bob and Jeremy and theirdeliverer scrambled up to the open port.
There was shouting and a moving to and fro of lanterns, as they wereushered into the cabin, and suddenly a tall man, half-clad, burstthrough the door at the farther end. He had the tattered form of BobCurtis in his arms in an instant, and great boy though he was, theDelaware lad hugged his father ecstatically and wept.
Job and Jeremy, pleased as they were to see this reunion, were hardlycomfortable in its presence and made a vain attempt to withdrawgracefully. The merchant was after them before they could reach thedoor. "Here, Howland," he cried, holding to Bob with one hand andseizing the ex-pirate's arm with the other. "Don't you try to leave yet.Gad, man, this is the happiest hour I've had in years. I owe you so muchthat it can't be put in figures. And this tall lad is Jeremy that you'vetold me of. Look at the sunburn on the pair of 'em--pretty desperatecharacters to have aboard, I'm afraid!"
His roar of laughter was joined by the other three, as he showed the wayto a couple of roomy berths, built in at the end of the cabin. The twoboys were left, after a final boisterous "Good-night," and proceed
ed tomake themselves snug between the linen sheets. Jeremy had never slept insuch luxury in his whole life, and moved gingerly for fear of hurtingsomething. At last their exhilaration subsided enough for the rescuedlads to go to sleep once more. Jeremy's last thought was a half-mournfulone as he wondered how long it must be before he, too, could throwhimself against the broad homespun wall of his father's breast.