The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution

  CHAPTER X.

  THE BLACK TRANSPORT.

  "You don't mean to say it's all over!" exclaimed Guert, staring at theplace from which the pirate schooner had vanished. "Seems to me itdoesn't take long to fight a battle at sea."

  "Yes, it does," said one of the older sailors, "if there's chasin' andmanoeuvrin' and long range firin'. I've been in some that took all dayand the next day, too. But we were too heavy guns for that feller."

  "It's awful!" remarked Vine Avery, very thoughtfully. "I was trying tomake out if we could have saved any more of 'em."

  "No," said the captain, "I don't see how we could, considerin' where wewere and the time it took us to come about. They grappled each otherin the water, too."

  "The fact is, boys," said Sam Prentice, "the savin' o' those fellerswouldn't ha' been of any use, anyhow. Spanish law isn't as slow andcareful as ours is. It wouldn't ha' called for any trial by a court,you know. The nearest army or navy commander of any consequence wouldha' taken hold of 'em. They'd all ha' been shot within a day after heseized 'em."

  "Leastwise," said Vine, "'twasn't any fault of ours. I'm glad Guertmade out to haul in one of 'em."

  Guert had turned somewhat quickly away, while they were speaking, forhis rescued man had been allowed to come and speak with him.

  "Hullo!" said the captain. "They are talkin' Dutch. That's it!Guert's a New Yorker. He learned it at home."

  "What sort is he, Guert?" asked the mate.

  "He isn't any pirate, at all," eagerly responded Guert. "He's aHollander that was on a ship they took. One of 'em knew him and savedhim, and they 'pressed him in. He had to make believe he was one of'em, but he never was."

  "Pretty good story," said Captain Avery. "Maybe it's true. There'senough of 'em killed. We'll take care of him."

  "I wish you would," said Guert. "Seems to me the right man got away."

  "Not all of 'em," said the man himself in English that had very littleforeign accent. "There were three more a good deal like me. Some o'the black men weren't reg'lar pirates. All the rest of 'em, though,belonged to the sharks. It was one o' the worst crews that everfloated. My name's Groot. I'm from Amsterdam, but I was brought upmostly in Liverpool. Sailed on British craft and French, too. I'm atrue man, Captain Avery!"

  The captain was willing to believe it, if he could, and he questionedhim closely, all the crew of the _Noank_ agreeing among themselves thatGroot was their prize, anyhow, and ought not to be turned over to anySpanish authority.

  All the while, the rescued _Santa Teresa_ was drifting nearer, herbulwarks lined with eager people of all sorts, who were gazinggratefully at what seemed to them the very beautiful American schooner.She had arrived just in time to save them, and they had never beforeseen a ship that they were so pleased with. Loud hails were exchanged,and then followed, from the Spanish ship, a perfect storm of thanks.

  "Guert," said Captain Avery, "I'm goin' aboard of her. You may comealong. You may find some more Dutchmen. I can talk Spanish andFrench. I want to know just what shape they're in."

  A boat was already lowered, and in a few minutes they were on the deckof the _Santa Teresa_.

  "Women and children!" was Guert's first thought and exclamation. "Tothink of all of them being murdered! I don't feel half so sorry as Idid about the pirates. I wish mother could see just what we've beensaving from 'em. I guess it's perfectly right to shoot straight,sometimes. Glad I didn't miss once!"

  All his shudders of regret and of horror over the work of the sharkspassed away from him as those passengers crowded around him. Therewere four more _Noank_ sailors, but the Spanish crew had captured them.The two captains were talking business, therefore Guert was taken inhand by the women and young people. One short, fat senora, who came athim first, had long, white hair tumbling down over her shoulders. Shehugged him and kissed him, and cried and laughed, and shepointed--saying a great deal in Spanish--at a woman who was throwingher arms around a pretty pair of children. It was easy for Guert tounderstand that the old woman was thanking God and the Americans forthe lives of her daughter and her grandchildren.

  Other women did not altogether follow her example, for Guert showed alittle bashfulness, there were so many of them; but he shook handsquite freely with the boys and girls. The Spanish youngsters showedhim their weapons, too, trying to tell him how ready they had been tofight the buccaneers.

  "It isn't a long run from this to Porto Rico," he heard Captain Averysay. "We'll see you safe in. We didn't lose a man."

  "We lost five," replied the Spanish commander. "The sharks would havehad all of us, instead of all of them, but for you. God bless you! Wewill patch up and spread all the canvas we can."

  At that moment a friendly hand was laid upon Guert's arm, drawing himaway from his women friends. Senor Alvarez held him hard for a breathor two, as if he were trying to speak and had lost his voice.

  "My boy," he then exclaimed, "you came in time! This is my wife,Senora Laura Alvarez. These are my boy and girl. This is my wife'smother, Senora Paez. They told me that you fired that blessed longgun, yourself."

  "Up-na-tan, the Indian chief, and I fired it," said Guert. "I'm abeginner."

  "I understand," said the Spaniard. "You are a young cadet studyingnavigation. You must come home with me and study a Porto Ricoplantation house. You must be my guest. We will treat you like aking."

  "I shall be ever so glad, if Captain Avery'll let me," answered Guert."He says we're likely to be in port quite a while. I'll ask him."

  Captain Avery was near enough to hear, and he replied for himself."It's all right, Guert," he said. "You may go. I want you to, even ifwe sail and come back while you're ashore. You see, my boy, you know alittle Spanish now. Here's a chance for you to get ahead so you canbegin to speak and read it. Every American sea-captain ought to knowSpanish."

  "Yes, sir, I'd like it first-rate," said Guert; "but I wouldn't like tohave the _Noank_ sail without me on board."

  "We'll see 'bout that," replied the captain. "You'll obey orders,anyhow."

  "I guess I'll have to," almost grumbled Guert, as he was compelled toget away from his friends and hasten back in the boat to the schooner;"but I didn't come to loaf on shore. I'd rather be a gunner."

  There was a great deal of talk and excitement upon both vessels, butthings were rapidly getting back into order. The sails were spread,and both were quickly in motion. The wind was fair, and night wascoming on. As for the _Noank_, in particular, all that she had donefor either pirates or Spaniards could not diminish the necessity shewas under for keeping up a sharp lookout for anything sailing under theBritish flag. That banner might be fluttering nearer at any hour, andit might be upon a "sugar-boat," or it might be streaming out from thedangerous rigging of a cruiser.

  Once the schooner was under way, Guert found himself more at libertythan usual, for all kinds of his sea schooling were given a vacation.His head was even more full than ordinary, however, and he had anespecial reason for getting away with Sam Prentice during their nextwatch on deck. He had several times heard the mate talk about pirates.He had also heard something about them from Up-na-tan and Coco and thecrew. Until now, however, all that he had heard at any time had beenlistened to as if it were unreal. He had never read a novel, and so hedid not know that all of it had seemed to him a kind of pretty,interesting story of fiction, and not anything more. It was verydifferent, now that he had seen a black flag and sent a heavy shot intothe hull under it, and had watched while that hull went down.

  "About the buccaneers, eh?" said Sam, as they leaned over thequarter-rail and looked out into the darkness. "Well! I s'pose thereare books about 'em. You can learn a good deal from books, but I don'tknow any that'll tell you all there is 'bout those islands. There'stoo many of 'em, hundreds, mebbe, with outlyin' reefs and ledges. Thenthere are any number o' bays and inlets and lagoons. That's why it'sso hard to follow up and ketch light draft pirate vessels. They canhide in a thousa
nd out o' the way places until they git ready to runout and make a strike. One o' their biggest helps is the caves on someo' the islands. Safest kind o' places for men to hide plunder in, too.Some of 'em open right down at the water line, and some of 'em havedeep water for quite a way in from the mouth. You can row a boat righton in at high tide, or even at low water, I've heard tell. Bigcruisers ain't of any use 'mong the shoals and ledges and lagoons.Somehow the governments have been too busy 'bout other matters to buildand arm the right pattern o' gunboats. That there picaroon that wesunk to-day was as large a craft as I ever heard o' their usin'.Oftener, they go out in canoes and rowboats and sailboats, and makesurprises in light winds or calms, or in the night. All the shorepeople are afraid to tell on 'em, and they're good friends with theCaribs and the slaves. Of course, they've got to be all rooted out,some day, but it's goin' to be a tough job, I tell ye."

  Many more things he had to tell, as Guert questioned him. Before hegot through, it almost seemed as if all the nations of the world hadonce been pirates, of one kind or another, each nation thinking itright to capture ships of other nations on sight, if opportunity madeit safe to do so.

  "I tell you what," said Guert, at last, "I want to read books! I neverhad a chance at 'em. Rachel Tarns lent me a few, long ago, when wewere at home in New York, before the British came. The war drove usout, you know, and we can't guess when we're to get back. I want toread."

  "Now!" exclaimed the mate, "I've thought of one thing. You'll be atthe Velasquez plantation. Mebbe for some time. They'll have heaps o'books. It'll help you learn Spanish if you'll try and read anythingyou find there. Learn all you can, wherever you happen to be."

  "I just will!" said Guert.

  "Now," said Prentice, "I'm goin' below. Some time to-morrer, if thewind holds good, we'll be in Porto Rico. Then you'll see somethingnew."

  Guert also had to go below and turn in, but it was not easy to sleepwith his head so full, even after so very fatiguing a day. He waslying awake, therefore, long afterward, when he was startled by soundson deck.

  "Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Something's happened! What if they shouldhave sighted a British man-o'-war? If there's going to be any morefighting, I want to be at my gun!"

  He was getting to be a genuine sailor, therefore, and the cannon he wasstationed with had become a sort of pet and much as if it were his ownproperty.

  Not much careful dressing was called for after he sprung out of hisbunk, and then he was up on deck without waiting for orders.

  Not a great deal of noise had been made, after all, and most of theweary crew were still keeping their watch below, as soundly asleep asever. Two pairs of ears, however, had been as keen as Guert's, andhere were Coco and Up-na-tan, already at the pivot-gun, prepared foranything that might turn up. The moon was shining brightly and thewind was fair. The sparkling, foaming sea looked beautiful, and allwas peace except upon the deck of the privateer. Away to leeward Guertcould dimly see a sail that he believed to be the _Santa Teresa_, andat that moment a red ball rocket went up from her deck and burst, toinform her American friends that she was doing well.

  "She's all right, then," Guert heard Captain Avery say to the man atthe wheel. "I wish I knew what this feller is to wind'ard. Up-na-tan,be ready, there, with that gun. It looks to me like a brig o' somesort. It might happen to be one o' these 'ere British ten-gun brigs.I don't know, yet, whether or not one o' them 'd prove too much for us,if we got in the first broadside."

  "Well, Captain," said the steersman, "we can't very well get out of herway, jest now. She has managed to come up to wind'ard of us, and shecan hold on, best we can do. It's our bad luck!"

  "Maybe it's her's," said the captain, grimly. "I won't call up the menfor a bit. If there's a hard fight a-comin', a rest won't hurt 'em.It may be a Spanish coast-guard or a Frenchman. Everything down thisway isn't British. Up-na-tan, take this night-glass and see what youcan make of her."

  The Manhattan came at once for the telescope, but a sudden change hadcome over the manners of Coco. It began with a curious kind ofsniffing, sniffing, like a pointer dog in the neighborhood of game.Then he left his precious gun and glided to the rail, shaking his headand chattering harsh words in a tongue which nobody who heard couldrecognize.

  Guert went over to join him, and his first glance at the face of theold African astonished him. It was absolutely convulsed with fury.The black man's hands were clenched, his teeth were grinding, and hiseyes seemed to flash fire.

  "What's the matter?" asked Guert. "Can you see anything out there?"

  An angry screech, and then a guttural, wrathful war-cry, sprung fromthe lips of Coco.

  At that moment Up-na-tan had been looking at the strange sail throughthe telescope.

  "Brig," he had said. "All sail set. Big as the _Santa Teresa_. Nocruiser. No Englishman ever set a foresail like that."

  His implied compliment to the neatness of British seamanship was cutshort by the yell of Coco, and he instantly lowered his glass.

  "Whoo-oop!" he responded. "'Peak out! What Coco find?"

  "Slaver!" screeched the African. "Coco smell him! Where Up-na-tanlose he nose?"

  "Slaver?" exclaimed Captain Avery. "Bless my soul! We've nothing todo with men-stealers. I don't want any such prize as that, even ifit's an Englishman. I wouldn't take a slave cargo into port."

  "Nor I, either," said the steersman. "We're not in that trade."

  Nearer and nearer, now, the strange craft was drawing, from theopposite tack. The men below had heard the yell of Coco and theManhattan's warwhoop, and were tumbling up on deck in search ofinformation. Their comments were various as they heard the remarkableannouncement.

  "Not a doubt of it, Lyme," said Sam Prentice to the captain, after awhiff of the wind from the stranger. "They're slave thieves. I alwaysheard tell that a slave-ship could smell worse'n anything else. I saywe ought not to try to do anything with her. Let her go!"

  "Of course we will," said the captain; "but we'll speak her. Here shecomes."

  In a few minutes more the two ships were within hailing distance.

  "What brig's that?" asked Avery.

  "Slaver _Yara_, Captain Liscomb. Congo River to Cuba," came back withall cheerfulness. "What schooner's that?"

  "American privateer, _Noank_, Captain Avery. We don't want you. Howmany on board?"

  "We've only lost about a third of 'em on the passage," came jauntilyback from the _Yara_. "We shall land over two hundred good ones.First-rate luck! Last trip we lost more'n half by getting stuck in acalm. How's your luck? Are you taking anything worth while?"

  It was precisely as if a prosperous merchant, engaged in what heconsidered an honorable, legitimate business, were exchanging tradepoliteness with another merchant in a somewhat similar line.

  "We're not long out," replied Captain Avery. "We've done fairly well,though. We sunk a West India picaroon to-day."

  "Did you? That's a good thing to do. Glad you did," said the slaver,heartily. "Those chaps annoy even us African traders. They stopped metwice last year, and took away dozens of my best pieces, men and women.The rascals said they were collecting their import duties. Sink 'emall!"

  He was so near, by this time, that the bright moonlight gave them apretty good view of him. He did not seem to be by any means abad-looking fellow, and it was only too evident that he was either anAmerican or Englishman of good education. He asked for the latest newspolitely, and then he declared concerning the existing difficultiesbetween King George Third and his American colonies:--

  "You chaps have more interest in that affair than I have. If you'renot all shot or hung, you'll make fortunes out of it, if it goes onlong enough. Privateering sometimes pays better than slaving. All youneed be afraid of, except the king's cruisers, is too sudden an end ofthe war. That would ruin all your business at once. The war hasn'thurt us, to speak of. Our market is as good as ever it was; we cansell all we can bring over."

  The _
Noank_ was sweeping on and there could be no more exchange of newsor opinions with Captain Liscomb.

  He was evidently a man without the prejudices of other men. He couldsee only the money side of the war for American independence, and hetook it for granted that a privateersman would look at it in preciselythat way. At least one of the crew of the _Noank_ was not in agreementwith him, for Coco was as furious as ever.

  "Ole Coco stuck in slaver hold, once," he snarled tigerishly. "Nowater. Iron on hand, on foot. Hot like oven. Most of 'em die. Somego bline. Some get kill. Not many left. Sell Coco in Cuba. Whiphim. Burn him. Make him work hard. Ole brack man got away, though.Big fire 'bout that time. Planter lose he house. Kidd men better'nslaver men. All the same, anyhow."

  "Isn't that awful!" was all that Guert could think or say.

  "Boy fool!" growled Coco. "Captain Avery all wrong. He let 'em go.Better take 'em."

  "What could he do with all those slaves if he took 'em?" asked Guert.

  "What he do with 'em?" replied Coco, with some surprise. "Drownslaver, not brack fellers. Sell 'em all. Make pile o' money."

  "He wouldn't do that," said Guert.

  "Then go ashore in Cuba," persisted the old Ashantee. "Buy sugarplantation. Have he slaves all for nothing. That's what Coco think.He do it, quick. All African chief have plenty slave. Make 'em work,kill 'em, do what he please."

  The fierce anger of the grim old African, therefore, had been arousedby a memory of his own sufferings and not by any sentimental notionsconcerning human rights. He saw no evil whatever in the mere owning ofslaves. Very much like him in that respect, to tell the truth, weremost of his Yankee friends. Slave-holding had not yet been abolishedin the northern American colonies any more than in the southern. Thegreat movement for the abolition of all property in human beings came along time afterward. Nevertheless, even then, a strong odium wasbeginning to attach to the business of catching black men for themarket, and the cause of this feeling was mainly the cruel and wastefulmanner in which the business was carried on. The gathering of slavesin Africa for export purposes was understood to be exceedinglymurderous, and too many of the captives died on shipboard frombarbarous ill-treatment.

  Away had swung the badly smelling _Yara_ upon her intended course. Herpolite captain had bowed as she did so, his last farewell expressinghis wish that his privateer acquaintances might have good luck and makemoney. If he were indeed an Englishman, he had no narrow, nationalfeeling concerning business matters.

  "Sam Prentice!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "I was glad to be rid of 'em.They're only another kind of pirate, anyhow. I believe that feller'dsend up the black flag any day, if it was safe,--and if he could makemoney by it."

  "Lyme," replied his mate, "don't you know that slave catchers do flythe skull and bones every now and then, in the far seas? They're nonetoo good to scuttle a ship and make her crew walk the plank."

  "I've heard so," said the captain, "but we hadn't any duty to do by'em, jest now. What we want to do is to sight a British flag on acraft that doesn't carry too many guns for us. Port your helm, there!"