CHAPTER XXXV
Little by little the _Tiger_ pulled up to windward of the buccaneer andthe men below in the gun deck could be heard cheering as their advancebrought the black sloop more and more nearly opposite the yawning mouthsof the _Tiger's_ port carronades.
The shore was now less than half a mile distant. Though making allpossible speed, the pirate schooner seemed to rise on the waves with amore sluggish heave than before. Job, watching her through the spyglass,turned to Isaiah Hawkes.
"Don't she look sort o' soggy to you?" he asked. "I can't quite make outwhether that's a hole in her planking or--by the Great Hook Block! Seethere, now, when she lifts! One of our shots landed smack on herwaterline. No wonder they're trying to beach her!"
A moment later the _Tiger_ had hauled fairly abreast and the twoschooners plunged along a bare hundred yards apart. Not a head showedabove the high weather bulwark of the _Revenge_. Only the muzzles of herguns peered grimly from their ports in her black side. There wassomething sinister about this apparently deserted ship, lurchingdrunkenly shoreward, with her torn sails and broken rigging flapping inthe breeze, and the pirate flag flying at her peak.
Job made a megaphone of his hands and raised his voice in a hail.
"Ahoy, _Revenge_!" he boomed. "Will you surrender peacefully, and hauldown that flag?"
There was silence for a full ten seconds. Then a musket cracked and abullet imbedded itself in the mainmast by Job's head.
"All right, boys," he said, without moving, "let 'em have it! Ready,port battery? Fire!" Jeremy and Bob, clinging side by side to thehatch-combing, felt the planking quiver under them at the series ofmighty discharges, and saw the pirate schooner check and stagger like ananimal that has received its death wound.
Only one of her guns was able to reply, the round-shot screaming high andwide. But on she went, and the steep beach below the dunes was veryclose now.
Captain Job stood by the hatchway. "All hands up, ready to board her,"he ordered, and the crew, swarming on deck, ran to their places by thelongboat amidships.
The _Tiger_ was now in very shallow water, but Job waited till he sawthe other craft strike. Then, "Bring her head to the wind, Hawkes!" hecried, "And over with the boat, lads! Lively now, or they'll getashore!"
Hardly was the order given when the boat shot into the water. During thescramble of the seamen for places on her thwarts, Jeremy and Bob jumpeddown and crouched in the bows, unseen by any but those nearest them. Tenseconds after she hit the waves the boat was filled from gunwale togunwale with sailors, armed to the teeth with pistols, cutlasses andboarding-pikes. Job, last to leave the deck, spoke a word to Hawkes, whoremained in command, and jumped into the sternsheets.
"Now, give way!" he roared.
The eight stout oars lashed through the water and the boat spedshoreward like an arrow. Up in the bows the two boys clutched theirweapons and waited. Neither one would have admitted that he was scared,though they were both shivering with something more than the cold.Besides his precious pistol, Bob was gripping the hilt of amurderous-looking hanger, which he had picked up from the pile on deckin passing. Jeremy had been able to secure no weapon but a short pikewith a heavy ashen staff and a knife-like blade at the upper end. Theypeered over the bows in silence. The longboat was close to the_Revenge's_ quarter now, but there was no sign of the pirates along herrail.
"Suppose they've got ashore?" asked Bob. "I don't see--"
"Down heads all!"
It was Job's voice, and the boys together with many of the seamen duckedinstinctively at the words. As they did so there came a crash ofmusketry, followed by intermittent shots, and splinters flew from thegunwale of the boat. Jeremy heard a gasping cry behind him and a youngsailor toppled backward from the thwart. He fell between the boys, andas they raised him in their arms he died.
Another seaman had been killed and three more wounded by the piratevolley, which had been fired from a distance of barely a dozen yards.Seeing the effect of their fusillade, the buccaneers rose cheering andyelling from behind the bulwarks of the sloop in the evident belief thatthey had succeeded in demoralizing the attacking force. But the speed ofthe boat had hardly been checked. In another instant the rowers shippedtheir oars and the gunwale scraped along the free-board of the schooner.
"A guinea to the first man up!" cried Job, himself reaching up withpowerful fingers for a grip by which to climb.
There were no rope-ends hanging, and as the _Revenge_ in her strandedposition lay much higher forward than aft, the boys, standing in thebows, found themselves faced by smooth planking too high to scale.
Jeremy started back over the thwarts, but heard Bob calling to him andturned.
"Here's a place to board!" the Delaware boy was saying, and pointedtoward the forward gun-port which stood open just beyond and above thebow of the longboat. In a twinkling Bob had straddled through the hole,with Jeremy close after him. It was dark in the 'tween-decks and the twoboys made their way forward on tiptoe, waiting breathlessly for theattack they felt sure would come. But apparently all the buccaneers werebusy above in the fierce fight that they could hear raging along therail. They moved on, undeterred, till they reached the foot of thefo'c's'le ladder, where Jeremy feeling along the bulkhead, uttered anexclamation.
"This is their gun-rack," he said. "And here's a musket all loaded andprimed! I'll take it along!"
The hatch cover had been drawn to, but Bob, trying it from beneath,decided it was not fastened. Both boys tugged at it and succeeded insliding it back an inch or two, where it stuck.
The hubbub on deck was now terrific. They could hear, above the generaloutcry, an occasional sharply gasped command in Job's voice, or asnarling oath from one of the buccaneers, but for the most part it was abedlam of unintelligible shouts with a constant undertone of ringingsteel and the thud of shifting feet. Most of the firearms, apparently,had been discharged, and in the melee no one had time to reload.
Bob, straining desperately at the hatch-cover, spied Jeremy'spike-shaft, and thrusting it through the narrow opening, pried with allhis strength. The hatch squeaked open reluctantly and the boys squirmedthrough on to the deck.
They gasped at the sight which met their eyes as they emerged. Both ofthem had confidently expected to find the pirates already beaten, andfighting with their backs to the wall. But such was far from being thecase.
On the deck amidships lay two men from the _Tiger_, sorely wounded,while Job and two others stood at bay above them, swinging cutlassesmightily, and beating off, time after time, the attacks of a dozenfierce pirate hanger-men. A number of buccaneers had fallen but all whowere unwounded were raging like a pack of dogs about the figures of Joband his two supporters.
"They can't get up!" cried Bob, "The men can't climb the side! Here,help me bring that rope!" It was a matter of seconds only before theboys had dashed across the deck and thrown a rope's end to the men belowin the longboat. Then Jeremy turned and ran toward the waist. Anotherman was down now. Job and a single comrade were fighting back to back,parrying with red blades the blows of half a score of the enemy. Jeremysaw a gleam of yellow teeth between wicked lips, and a flash of lighteyes in the thick of the assault. Then for a moment he had a glimpse ofthe whole face of Pharaoh Daggs, scarred and distorted with frightfulpassion--a cruel wolf's face--and even as he looked, the drippingsword-blade of the man with the broken nose plunged between the ribs ofJob's last henchman. The wounded seaman staggered, leaning his weightagainst his captain, but still kept his guard up, defending himselffeebly. Job hooked his left arm about the poor lad's body and backedwith his burden toward the mainmast, slashing fiercely around him withhis tireless right arm the while. When they reached the mast, Job leanedhis comrade against it, set his own back to the wood, and battled on.
But now a cheer resounded, and the buccaneers, turning their heads,found themselves face to face with the rush of half a dozen men from the_Tiger_, while more could be seen swarming over the rail.
The knot of pirates broke to
meet the attack, but some of them stayed.Daggs and three others, including the huge mulatto mate, closed in onJob, cutting at him savagely. The wounded sailor had fainted and slippedto the deck. Jeremy saw the saddle-colored mate step swiftly to oneside, then come up from behind the mast, drawing a long dirk from hissash as he neared Job's back. He had lifted the knife and was steppingin for a blow, when Jeremy pulled the trigger of his musket. There musthave been an extra heavy charge of powder in the gun, for its recoilthrew the boy flat on the deck, and before he could regain his feet hesaw a man close above him and caught the flash of a hanger in the air.Desperately Jeremy rolled out of the way, and none too soon, for theblade cut past his head with a nasty _swish_. He scrambled up and caughta boarding-pike from the deck as he did so. The pirate followed, hackingat him with his cutlass, and for seconds that seemed like hours the boyfought for his life, parrying one stroke after another, till the pikeshaft was broken by the blows, and he was left weaponless. As he duckedand turned in despair, a man from the _Tiger_ ran in and caught thebuccaneer on his flank, finishing him in short order.
The deck was now full of struggling groups, for though a score of thelongboat's crew had climbed aboard, the pirates were putting up a fierceresistance. Jeremy, panting from his encounter, cast about for a weaponand soon found a cutlass, with which he armed himself. He turned towardthe mainmast foot once more, and to his joy discovered that his shot hadtaken effect. The mulatto had disappeared under the trampling mass offighting men, and Job's tall figure still towered by the mast. It tookthe lad only a second, however, to realize that his Captain's plight wasserious. The big Yankee was fighting wearily with a broken cutlass, andhis face was gray beneath the red stream of blood that ran from a woundabove his eye. Jeremy plunged into the ruck of the battle, careless nowof danger. A sort of berserk rage possessed him at the sight of thatwound. He hewed his way frantically toward the mast, and suddenly foundBob there beside him, cutting and lunging like a demon. He gasped out acheer. But even as it left his throat, the Captain's arm flew upconvulsively, then dropped out of sight in the mob.
"Job's down!" cried Bob wildly, but the New England boy's only reply wasa half-choked sob.
Now the tables were turned of a sudden, for three stout sea-dogs fromthe _Tiger_, finishing their first opponents, dashed into the fray witha yell, and Daggs, hewing his way to the mast, turned to face the newattack with only two men left on foot to back him.
The fight was short and fierce. First one, then the other of thebuccaneers went down before the furious assault of Job's seamen. Atlength only the pirate chief was left to battle on, terrible andsilent, his face set in a ghastly grin, like the visage of a lone wolffighting his last fight.
But the odds were too great. The men of the _Tiger_ pressed inrelentlessly till at last a dozen sword-points found their mark at once.And so died Pharaoh Daggs, violently, as he had lived.
CHAPTER XXXVI
It was Jeremy who, five minutes later, held Job's head on his knees,while the weary, bleeding sailors stood silently by with their hats off.
The bo's'n, a grizzled veteran of many sea-fights, was kneeling besidehis Captain with an ear to his side. There was hope in the man's facewhen at length he looked up.
"He's breathin' yet," was his verdict, "breathin', but not much more.There's half a score of cuts in him, different places. Here, lads, rig astretcher, an' let's get him back to the ship."
When the unconscious body of their big friend had been placed gently inthe boat, Bob and Jeremy turned to each other with sober faces.
"It was a costly sort of victory," said Bob. "This deck's not a prettysight, and there's nothing much we can do to help. Let's have a look atthe cabin."
They went below and forced open the door of the after compartment, whichhad once housed the great Stede Bonnet. Instead of its old immaculateand almost scholarly appearance, the place now had an air of desolation.It reeked of filth, stale tobacco-smoke, and the spilled lees ofliquor. In the clutter on the cabin table lay two bulging sacks and asmall box.
"Well," said Bob, as he felt the weight of one of the bags, "here's therest of Brig's gold!"
But Jeremy's attention was occupied. He had picked up the box from thetable and was examining it curiously.
"See here, Bob," he cried, "this is the little chest I was carrying thenight we ran through the woods. I dropped it when that pirate tackledme. What do you suppose is in it?"
The box was leather-covered and heavily studded with nails. Jeremy triedthe small padlock and found it rusty and weak. A hard pull on the stapleand it came away in his hand. He threw open the cover and the two boysstood back, gasping with astonishment.
There on the lining of soft buckskin lay twelve great emeralds, gleamingwith a clear green light even in that dark place. They were perfectlymatched and as large as the end of a man's thumb, each cut in a squarepattern after the oldtime fashion. Such stones they were as could havecome only from the coffers of an oriental king--the ransom, perhaps, ofa prince of the blood, or of the favorite wife of some Maharajah, seizedin one of Solomon Brig's daredevil raids.
Bob found breath at last.
"It's a fortune!" he cried. "They're worth more than all the goldtogether! And they're yours, Jeremy--yours by right of discovery twiceover. You're rich--you and your father and Tom! Think of it! You can buya whole fleet of big ships like the _Indian Queen_, and become a greatmerchant. You and I'll be partners when we're grown up!" Jubilant, hepicked up one of the sacks of gold and made his way to the deck,followed by the half-dazed Jeremy, who carried the rest of the treasure.
The sun was close to setting when the _Tiger's_ boat made its last tripto the pirate sloop. This time its errand was a sad one. Silently thecrew passed long, limp bundles across the rail, rowed with them to thebeach, and clambered up the desolate dunes with picks and shovels intheir hands. There, where the wind moaned in the beach-plum thickets andthe white gulls wheeled and screamed, they dug a long grave and laid thedead to rest, pirates and honest men together under the wintry sky.
The boat returned and was hoisted aboard. Just as the mainsail had beenrun up and the schooner was filling away for her northward beat, asingle shout from the crosstrees caused every man to turn his gazeshoreward into the gathering dark. A faint glow seemed to hang in theair above the pirate sloop. A little snaky flame wriggled its way alonga piece of sagging cordage, licked at the edges of a torn sail, andflared outward in a burst of red fire. A moment later, and the wholeschooner was ablaze, from waterline to masthead. Jeremy, watching,fascinated, from the _Tiger's_ rail, thought of the night when he hadfirst seen that black hull, and of the burning brig that had lit up thesky as the pirate sloop now illumined it. Her fate was the same that shehad meted out to many a good ship.
They were rapidly drawing away, now. The great glare of the burningschooner faded out as the flame devoured her fabric. The foremasttoppled and fell in a shower of sparks. The mainmast followed. Only afeeble light flickered along the edges of the low-lying hulk. The faintgleam of it was visible, astern, for some time before it was swallowedby the dark sea.
The _Revenge_ was gone.
* * * * *
This is the end of my story.
Of the voyage to Boston town; of how Job was nursed back to health byPhineas Whipple, the best surgeon in all the colonies; of the gloriousreunion when Amos Swan and Clarke Curtis rejoined their sons; of themany pleasant things that Bob and Jeremy found to do together, after theSwans had come to live in Philadelphia--of all these things there isnot space enough in this book for me to tell.
Jeremy Swan grew up to be one of the great Americans of his day: a manstrong, wise and independent. And although he became rich and highlyhonored, he never lost the simplicity of his ways.
Sometimes when he was a hale old man of seventy, he would take hisgrandson, who was named Job Cantwell Swan, on his knee, and tell himstories. But the story that young Job loved best to hear and that oldJeremy loved best to tell was about a boy
in deerskin breeches, and thewild days and nights he saw aboard the Black Buccaneer.
THE END.
Transcriber's Notes
Page 43, 2nd paragraph - changed "broad-side" to "broadside" to matchother instances
Page 63, next to last line - added opening quote before "Herriot"
Page 73, first line - corrected typo "priate" to "pirate"
Page 88, 3rd paragraph - corrected typo "fidgetted" to "fidgeted"
Page 91, 1st paragraph, next to last sentence - changed "a a man" to "aman"
Page 102, second paragraph, 6th line - corrected typo "showly" to"slowly"
Page 120, line 21 - added missing end quote at the end after "pirate."
Page 164, 2nd paragraph, line 8 - added opening quote to "Daggs' chest!"
Page 189, line 4 - corrected typo "somethinig" to "something"
Page 196, last line - removed second "and"
Page 231, 5th line from bottom - corrected typo "neck" to "deck"
Page 268, 6th paragraph - changed "round-shot" to "roundshot" to matchother instances
Page 273, 2nd paragraph, line 2 - corrected typo "thmselves" to"themselves"
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