CHAPTER II.
THE RACE OF THE GOSHAWK
A long day had passed and a dark night had come. The air of it was hotand sultry over all the regions around the Gulf of Mexico. Somethingappeared to be weighing it down, as if it might be loaded with the greatevents which were about to come.
It was gloomy enough at and around the besieged American fort on theTexas side of the Rio Grande, but every now and then the darkness andthe silence were broken by the flashes and thunders of the Mexicanartillery, and the responses of the cannon of the bravely defendedfortress. This was already partly in ruins, and the besiegers had goodreasons for their expectation that in due season they were to see theStars and Stripes come down from the shattered rampart. It did not seemto them at all possible that the small force under General Taylor,twenty miles away at the seaside, could cut through overwhelmingnumbers to the relief of the garrison.
It was just as dark in the American camp on the coast, but there weremany campfires burning, and by the light of these and numberlesslanterns there were busy preparations making for the forward march,which was to begin in the morning. There was an immense amount ofanxiety in the minds of all the Americans who were getting ready, but itwas only on account of the fort and garrison, for that little army had aremarkable degree of confidence in its own fighting capacity.
It is never as dark on the land, apparently, as it is at sea, where eventhe lights hung out by a ship seem to make all things darker, except thewhite crests of the billows. One ship's lantern, however, was so hungthat it threw down a dim light upon a pair who were sitting on the decknear the stern.
"Senor Zuroaga," said one of them, "I wish it was daylight."
"So do I," responded his companion, with hardly a trace of foreignaccent. "The storm's nearly over, but I had so much on my mind that Icould not sleep. The fact is, I came up to try and make up my mind wherewe are. I must reach Vera Cruz before Santa Anna does, if I can. If Ido not, I may be shot after landing. I shall be safer, too, afterPresident Paredes has marched with his army for the Rio Grande. So Ihope for war. Anyhow, the commander at Vera Cruz is a friend of mine."
"I guess I understand," said Ned. "I heard what you said about the waythings are going. But what did you mean about our being in the NicholasChannel? What has that got to do with it?"
"Talk Spanish!" replied the senor, with whom the boy appeared to be upongood terms. "I do not want any of those sailors to understand me, thoughI'm very glad that you can. How did that happen?"
"Well," said Ned, "father's been all his life in the Cuban and Mexicantrade, and I'm to grow up into it. I can't remember just when they beganto teach me Spanish. I was thinking about the war, though. If it'scoming, I want to see some of the fighting."
"You may see more than you will like," said his friend in his owntongue. "Now, as to where we are, remember your geography."
"I can remember every map in it," said Ned, confidently.
"Good!" said the senor. "Now! You know that the Gulf Stream runs alongthe coast of Florida. Our road from Liverpool to the gulf was to havetaken us by that way. Instead of that, we came around below the BahamaIslands, and here we are off the north coast of Cuba. Captain Kemp'sreason is that there might be too many American cruisers along theFlorida coast, and he does not care to be stopped by one of them, if thewar has already begun. We would not be allowed to go any further."
"I see," said Ned. "Of course not. They would stop us, to keep us frombeing captured by the Mexicans when we got to Vera Cruz."
"Not exactly," said the senor, half laughing, "but it might cost yourfather and his partners their ship and cargo. That is the secret thesailors are not to know. Away up northward there, a hundred miles or so,are the Florida Keys, and among them is the United States naval stationat Key West. There are ships of war there, and Captain Kemp will notsail any nearer to them than he can help. Ned, did you have any ideathat you were sitting over a Mexican powder-magazine?"
"No!" exclaimed Ned. "What on earth do you mean?"
"I think I had better tell you," said the senor. "I half suspected itbefore we sailed, and I learned the whole truth afterward. The New Yorkand Liverpool firm that your father belongs to sent on board an honestand peaceable cargo, but there was a good deal of room left in the hold,and the captain filled it up with cannon-balls, musket-bullets, andgunpowder from the English agents of no less a man than General SantaAnna himself. It is all for his army, whenever he gets one, but it goesfirst to the castle of San Juan de Ulua, at Vera Cruz. If war has beendeclared, or if it has in any way begun, the whole thing is what theycall contraband of war, and the _Goshawk_ is liable to be captured andconfiscated."
"Phew!" whistled Ned. "Wonder how father'd like that! Anyhow, we don'tknow there's any war."
"We'd be in trouble anyhow," said the senor. "But we are all in the darkabout it. We have been over three weeks on the way, and all the war newswe had when we started was nearly a month old. We can only guess whathas been going on. Here we are, though, in a storm that is driving usalong first-rate into the Gulf of Mexico. We may be four days' sail fromVera Cruz in a bee-line, and the _Goshawk_ is a racer, but we may not beable to make a straight course. Well, well, the captain will keep on allthe canvas that's safe, and we may get there. Hullo! the day isbeginning to dawn. Now our real danger begins."
He said no more, and Ned walked forward with something altogether new onhis mind. An American boy, crammed full of patriotism, and wishing thathe were in General Taylor's army, he was, nevertheless, by no fault ofhis own, one of the crew of a ship which was carrying ammunition to theenemy. He almost felt as if he were fighting his own country, and itmade him sick. He had an idea, moreover, that Senor Zuroaga was onlyhalf willing to help his old enemy Santa Anna.
"I don't care if Captain Kemp is an Englishman," he said to himself, "hehad no business to run father and his partners into such a scrape."
That might be so, and perhaps neither Kemp, nor Zuroaga, nor even Nedhimself, knew all about the laws of war which govern such cases, butjust then there flashed across his mind a very dismal suggestion, as hestared down at the deck he stood on.
"What," he asked himself, "if any accident should touch off thosebarrels of powder down there? Why, we'd all be blown sky-high andnobody'd ever know what had become of us. There'd be nothing but chipsleft."
He tried not to think about that, and went below to get his breakfast,while Captain Kemp ordered his sailors to send up another sail,remarking to Senor Zuroaga:
"We must make the most we can of this wind. Every hour counts now. I'lltake the _Goshawk_ to Vera Cruz, or I'll run her under water."
"Have you any idea where we are just now?" asked the senor.
"Well on into the gulf," said the captain, cheerfully. "We made asplendid run in the night, thanks to the gale. I hope it will blow on,and I think there is no danger of our being overhauled until we are offthe Mexican coast. I wish, though, that I knew whether or not the warhas actually been declared."
"The declaration isn't everything," replied the senor. "If there hasbeen any fighting at all, American cruisers have a right, after that,to question ships bound for a hostile port, and to stop and seize allcontraband of war. After goods are once seized, it isn't easy to getthem back again."
"Sail ho!" came down from aloft at that moment.
"Where away?" called back the captain.
"Northerly, sir. Looks like a shark, sir."
"Can you make out her flag?" was inquired, almost anxiously.
The man on the lookout plied his telescope a full half-minute before heresponded:
"Stars and Stripes, sir. Sloop-o'-war, sir. She's changin' her course,and she's makin' for us, I reckon."
"Let her head!" growled the captain. "This bark'll bear more sail. Hoistaway there, men. Let her have it! Senor, there's one thing I'll do rightoff. It may be our best chance if she should overhaul us."
He did not explain his meaning just then, but another sail went up andsomething else came down. In a few mi
nutes more, when Ned came on deckagain, he suddenly felt worse than ever. Not long before, when the sunwas rising, he had been on an American ship, with the flag of hiscountry flying above him, but now his first glance aloft drew from him aloud exclamation, for he found that while below he had apparently beenturned into an Englishman, and away up yonder the gale was playing withthe Red Cross banner of the British Empire. He stared at it for amoment, and then he made an excited rush for Senor Zuroaga. He mighthave reached him sooner, but for a lurch of the _Goshawk_, which senthim sprawling full length upon the deck. It did not hurt him much,however, and as soon as he was on his feet, he blurted out, angrily:
"Senor! I say! Do you see that? What does it mean?"
The Mexican laughed aloud, but not only Ned Crawford but several of thesailors were eyeing that unexpected bunting with red and angry faces.They also were Americans, and they had national prejudices.
"You don't like the British flag, eh?" he said. "I do, then, just now.An American cruiser would not fire a shot at that flag half so quick asit would at your own."
"Why wouldn't she?" asked Ned.
"DO YOU SEE THAT? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?"]
"Because," said the senor, a little dryly, "the American skipper hasn'tany British navy behind him, ready to take the matter up. It's aprotection in case we can't outrun that sloop-of-war. The men won't carea cent, as soon as they know it's only a sea dodge to get into portwith."
Sailor-like, they were indeed easily satisfied with whatever the captainchose to tell them, and on went the _Goshawk_ as a British craft, butshe was nevertheless carrying supplies to the Mexican army.
Senor Zuroaga had brought up a double spy-glass of his own, and, afterstudying the stranger through it, he handed it to Ned, remarking:
"Take a look at her. She's a beauty. She is drawing nearer on this tack,but nobody knows yet whether she can outrun us or not."
Ned took the glass with an unexpected feeling growing within him that hehoped she could not do so. He did not wish to be caught on board aBritish vessel taking powder and shot to kill Americans with. As he putthe glass to his eyes, however, the sloop-of-war appeared to havesuddenly come nearer. It was as if the _Goshawk_ were already withinreach of her guns, and she became a dangerous thing to look at. She wasnot, as yet, under any great press of canvas, for her commander may nothave imagined that any merchant vessel would try to get away from him.There were two things, however, about which nobody on board the_Goshawk_ was thinking. The first was that, while the Americanship-of-war captain had not heard the firing at the fort on the RioGrande, he was under a strong impression that war had been declared. Theother thing came out in a remark which he made to a junior officerstanding by him.
"It won't do!" he declared, emphatically. "I don't at all like thatchange of flags. It means mischief. There is something suspicious aboutthat craft. We must bring her to, and find out what's the matter withher."
The distance between the two vessels was still too great for anythingbut a few signals, to which Captain Kemp responded with others which mayhave been of his own invention, for the signal officer on board theYankee cruiser could make nothing of them. The _Goshhawk_, moreover, didnot shorten sail, and her steersman kept her away several points moresoutherly, instead of bringing her course nearer to that of the cruiser.
"I see!" said her captain, as he watched the change. "She means to getaway from us. It won't do. As soon as we are within range, I'll giveher a gun. She may be a Mexican privateer, for all I know."
At all events, under the circumstances, as he thought, the change offlags had made it his duty to inquire into her character, and he decidedto do so, even if, as he said, he should have to send one shot ahead ofher and then a dozen into her.
There is something wonderfully exciting about a race of any kind. Menwill make use of anything, from a donkey to a steamboat, to engineer atrial of speed and endurance. Then they will stand around and watch therunning, as if the future welfare of the human race depended upon theresult. Even the _Goshhawk_ sailors, who had previously grumbled at theBritish flag above them, were entirely reconciled to the situation, nowthat it included the interesting question whether or not their swiftbark could show her heels to the cruiser. They were very much in doubtabout it, for the ships of the American navy had a high and well-earnedreputation as chasers. They might have been somewhat encouraged if theyhad known that the _Portsmouth_, sloop-of-war, had been at sea a longtime without going into any dock to have her bottom scraped clean of itsaccumulated barnacles. She was by no means in the best of training fora marine race-course.
An hour went by and then another. The two vessels were now running onalmost parallel lines, so that any attempt of the sloop to draw nearercost her just so much of chasing distance. It might be that they were,in fact, nearly matched, now that the wind had lulled a little, and bothof them were able to send up more canvas without too much risk of havingtheir sticks blown out of them. It looked like it, but the Yankeecaptain had yet another idea in his sagacious head.
"Let her keep on," he said. "The old _Kennebec_ is out there, somewherewesterly, not far away. That vagabond may find himself under heavierguns than ours before sunset. Lieutenant, give him a gun."
"Ay, ay, sir!" came back, and in a moment more there was a flash and areport at the bow of the _Portsmouth_.
Both range and distance had been well calculated, for an iron messenger,ordering the _Goshhawk_ to heave to, fell into the water within a hundredyards of her stern.
"That's near enough for the present," said the American commander, butCaptain Kemp exclaimed, in astonishment:
"They are firing on the British flag, are they? Then there is somethingup that we don't know anything about. We must get away at all risks."
They were not doing so just now, although another change of course and astrong puff of the gale carried the _Goshhawk_ further out of range. Thefact was that her pursuer did not feel quite ready to land shot on boardof her, believing that he was doing well enough and that his prize wouldsurely be taken sooner or later. Besides, if she were, indeed, to becomea prize, no sound-minded sea-captain could be willing to shoot away herselling value or that of her cargo.
Noon came, and there did not appear to be any important change in therelative positions of the two ships. At times, indeed, the _Goshhawk_ hadgained a quarter-mile or so, but only to lose it again, as is apt to bethe case in ocean races. She was not at all tired, however, and both ofthe contestants had all the wind they needed.
Two hours more went slowly by, and Captain Kemp began to exhibit signsof uneasiness at the unexpected persistence with which he was followed.
"What on earth can be the matter?" he remarked, aloud. "I'd have thoughtshe'd get tired of it before this--"
"Captain!" sharply interrupted Zuroaga, standing at his elbow, glass inhand. "Another sail! Off there, southerly. Seems to be a full-riggedship. What are we to do now?"
"Keep on!" roared the captain, and then he turned to respond to asimilar piece of unpleasant information which came down from thelookout.
"We'll soon know what she is," he remarked, but not as if he very muchwished to do so. "What I'd like to do would be to sail on into thedarkest kind of a rainy night. That's our chance, if we can get it."
It might be, but at that very moment the commander of the _Portsmouth_was asserting to his first lieutenant:
"There comes the _Kennebec_, my boy. We'll have this fellow now. We'llteach him not to play tricks with national flags and man-o'-warsignals."
The race across the Gulf of Mexico was now putting on new andinteresting features, but Ned Crawford, posted well forward to watch thecourse of events and what might have been called the race-course, sagelyremarked:
"I don't know that two horses can run any faster than one can. We are asfar ahead as ever we were."
That would have been of more importance if the newcomer had not been somuch to the southward and westward, rather than behind them. She was, ofcourse, several miles nearer to the _Goshhawk_ t
han she was to the_Portsmouth_, and neither of these had as yet been able to make out herflag with certainty. That she was a full-rigged ship was sure enough,and if Ned had been upon her deck instead of upon his own, he would havediscovered that she was heavily armed and in apple-pie order. At thisvery moment a burly officer upon her quarter-deck was roaring, angrily,in response to some information which had been given him:
"What's that? A British ship chased by a Yankee cruiser? Lieutenant, Ithink the _Falcon_'ll take a look at that. These Yankees are getting toobumptious altogether. It's as if they thought they owned the gulf! Puther head two points north'ard. Humph! It's about time they had alesson."
There had been some temporary trouble with the flag of the _Falcon_, butit had now been cleared of its tangle, and was swinging out free. It wasof larger size than the British bunting displayed by the Goshawk. It wasonly a few minutes, therefore, before Captain Kemp had a fresh troubleon his mind, for his telescope had told him the meaning of that flag.
"Worse than ever!" he exclaimed. "She'd make us heave to and show ourpapers. Then she'd hand us right over, and no help for it. No, sir! Ouronly way is to scud from both of them. Some of our English frigates areslow goers, and this may be one of that kind."
He was in less immediate peril, perhaps, because of the determination ofthe angry British captain to speak to the Yankee first, and demand anexplanation of this extraordinary affair. This it was his plain duty todo, and the attempt to do it would shortly put him and all his gunsbetween the _Portsmouth_ and the _Goshhawk_. This operation was going onat the end of another hour, when Captain Kemp's lookout shouted down tohim:
"Sail ho, sir! 'Bout a mile ahead o' the British frigate. Can't quitemake her out yet, sir."
"I declare!" groaned the captain. "This 'ere's getting kind o' thick!"
The weather also was getting thicker, and all three of the racers wereshortly under a prudent necessity for reducing their excessive spreadsof canvas. The first mate of the _Goshhawk_ had even been compelled toexpostulate with his overexcited skipper.
"Some of it's got to come down, sir," he asserted. "If we was to lose aspar, we're gone, sure as guns!"
"In with it, then," said the captain. "I wish both of 'em 'd knock out astick or two. It'd be a good thing for us."
At all events, a lame horse is not likely to win a race, and the_Goshhawk_ was doing as well as were either of the others.
Under such circumstances, it was not long before the _Falcon_ and the_Portsmouth_ were within speaking-trumpet distance of each other, bothof them losing half a mile to the _Goshhawk_ while they were gettingtogether. Rapid and loud-voiced indeed were the explanations whichpassed between the two commanders. At the end of them, the wrath of theEnglishman was turned entirely against the culprit bark, which hadtrifled with his flag.
"We must take her, sir!" he shouted. "She's a loose fish o' some kind."
It was while this conversation was going on that Senor Zuroaga, afterlong and careful observations, reported to Captain Kemp concerning thefar-away stranger to the westward.
"She is a Frenchman, beyond a doubt. Are all the nations making a navalrendezvous in the Gulf of Mexico?"
"Nothing extraordinary," said the captain. "But they're all more'nusually on the watch, on account o' the war, if it's coming."
It was precisely so. War surely brings disturbance and losses to othersbesides those who are directly engaged in it, and all the nations havingcommercial relations with Mexico were expecting their cruisers in thegulf to act as a kind of sea police. Moreover, a larger force than usualwould probably be on hand and wide awake.
The day was going fast, and the weather promised to shorten it. Ned wasnow wearing an oilskin, for he would not have allowed any amount of rainto have driven him below. He and all the rest on board the _Goshhawk_were aware that their pursuers were again beginning to gain on themperceptibly. It was a slow process, but it was likely to be a sure one,for the men-of-war could do better sailing in a heavy sea and undershortened canvas than could a loaded vessel like the saucy merchantbark.
"I'm afraid they'll catch us!" groaned Ned. "I s'pose they could make usall prisoners of war,--if there is any war. Oh, I wish all that powderand shot had been thrown overboard!"
It did not look, just now, as if the Mexican army would ever get anybenefit from it, for even the French stranger to leeward seemed to beputting on an air of having evil intentions. Captain Kemp had made herout to be a corvette of moderate size, perhaps a sixteen-gun ship, andshe would be quite likely to co-operate with the police boats of Englandand America in arresting any suspicious wanderer in those troubledwaters.
Darker grew the gloom and a light mist came sweeping over the sea. Bothpursuers and pursued began to swing out lights, and before long the mateof the _Goshhawk_ came to Captain Kemp to inquire, in a puzzled way:
"I say, Cap'n, what on earth do you do that for? It'll help 'em tofoller us, and lose us all the benefit o' the dark."
"No, it won't," growled the captain. "You wait and see. I've sighted onemore light, off there ahead of us, and I'm going to make it do somethingfor the _Goshhawk_. Those other chaps can't see it yet."
"What in all the world can he be up to?" thought Ned, as he listened,but the cunning skipper of the bark had all his wits about him.
The lookouts of the men-of-war had indeed been taking note thus far ofonly their own lanterns and the glimmer on their intended prize. Theymay even have wondered, as did her own mate, why she should aid them inkeeping track of her. At all events, they had little doubt of having herunder their guns before morning. Senor Zuroaga himself sat curled upunder his waterproof well aft, and now and then he appeared to bechuckling, as if he knew something which amused him. Half an hour later,when all the lights of the _Goshhawk_ suddenly went out, he actuallybroke into a ringing laugh. Her course was changed to almost due northat that very moment. This would bring her across the track of the_Portsmouth_ and within a mile of that dangerous cruiser's bow guns.They might not be quite so dangerous, however, if her gunners should beunable to see a mark at that distance through the mist. The fifth light,dead ahead, now became itself only the fourth, and it was immediatelythe sole attraction for the watchers in the rigging of the several warpolice-boats. This stranger was going westwardly, at a fair rate ofspeed, and its light was exceptionally brilliant. In fact, it grew moreand more so during an anxious thirty minutes that followed, but it wasthe French corvette which first came within hailing distance, to receivean answer in angry Portuguese, which the French officers could not makehead or tail of. Even after receiving further communications in brokenPortuguese-Spanish, all they could do was to compel the Brazilianschooner, _Gonzaga_, laden with honest coffee from Rio for New Orleans,to heave to as best she might until the next arrival came within hail.This proved to be the British frigate, and her disappointed captain atonce pretty sharply explained to the Frenchmen the difference between atwo-master from Rio and a British-Yankee runaway bark from nobody knewwhere. Then came sweeping along the gallant _Portsmouth_, and there wasneed for additional conversation all around. Some of it was of anexceedingly discontented character, although the several captains weredoing their best to be polite to each other, whatever derogatory remarksthey might feel disposed to make concerning the craft which was carryingNed Crawford and his badly wounded patriotism.
Far away to the northwest, hidden by the darkness, the _Goshhawk_ wasall this while flying along, getting into greater safety with every knotshe was making, and Captain Kemp remarked to Ned:
"My boy, your father won't lose a cent, after all--not unless we findVera Cruz blockaded. But our danger isn't all over yet, and it's wellfor us that we've slipped out of this part of it."
"Captain Kemp!" exclaimed Ned, "I believe father'd be willing to losesomething, rather than have the Mexicans get that ammunition."
"Very likely he would," laughed the captain, "but I'm an Englishman, andI don't care. What's more, I'm like a great many Americans. Millions ofthem believe that the Mexican
s are in the right in this matter."
That was a thing which nobody could deny, and Ned was silenced so far asthe captain's sense of national duty was concerned.
Hundreds of miles to the westward, at that early hour of the evening,far beyond the path of the storm which had been sweeping the eastern andsouthern waters of the gulf, the American army, under General Taylor,lay bivouacked. It was several miles nearer the besieged fort than ithad been in the morning, for this was the 8th of May. There had beensharp fighting at intervals since the middle of the forenoon, beginningat a place called Palo Alto, or "The Tall Trees," and the Mexicans hadbeen driven back with loss. Any cannonading at the fort could be heardmore plainly now, and it was certain that it had not yet surrendered.
Near the centre of the lines occupied by the Seventh Regiment, a youngofficer sat upon the grass. He held in one hand a piece of army bread,from which he now and then took a bite, but he was evidently absorbed inthought. He took off his hat at last and stared out into the gloom.
"The Mexican army is out there somewhere," he remarked, slowly. "We arelikely to have another brush with them to-morrow. Well! this is realwar. I've seen my first battle, and I know just how a fellow feels underfire. I wasn't at all sure how it would be, but I know now. He doesn'tfeel first-rate, by any means. Those fellows that say they like it areall humbugs. I've seen my first man killed by a cannon-ball. Poor Page!Poor Ringgold! More of us are to go down to-morrow. Who will it be?"
Very possibly, the list of American slain would contain theannouncement that a mere second lieutenant, named Ulysses S. Grant, hadbeen struck by a chance shot from one of the Mexican batteries.