CHAPTER XVIII THE BATTLE OF NANTICOKE RIVER
The morning after Artie Jenkins was shipped away across the Chesapeake,Haley's bug-eye lay in Hooper strait, discharging her cargo of oystersinto another craft alongside. Four other craft waited near by; and, whenthe Brandt had finished, they, likewise, unloaded the oysters they had,aboard the carrying vessel.
"What's Haley unloading now for?" asked Wallace Brooks of the sailor,Jeff, as they were swinging a basket of the oysters outboard. "He's gotonly half a cargo, anyway."
"How do I know?" was the somewhat gruff reply. "Reckon we'll see when thetime comes. There's something up, though, like as not," he added; "Iheard Haley ask Jim Adams how he thought the Brandt sailed best--with aquarter of a cargo in her, or a little more. That's just so much moreballast, you know. So I guess that when Haley wants to sail his best, heexpects someone to follow; and if someone follows, I reckon he'll want toget away as slick as he can. Do you see?"
Wallace Brooks nodded.
"Going to dredge some more at night, eh?" he said.
"Well, you know as much as I do about it," replied the sailor. "All Iwish is, that I was bullet-proof," and he shrugged his shoulders.
The surmise of the seaman was perhaps correct; for, as soon as the lastbug-eye had cast loose from the carrying vessel, the four swung intogether, drifted along, and the four captains gathered in Haley's cabin.There were, besides Haley, Tom Noyes, Captain Bill and another whom Haleyaddressed as Captain Shute. The latter bore in one hand a chart which hespread out on the cabin table before them. It was a large sheet, coveringa wide area of that part of the bay, much worn, and marked by many lineswhere cross-bearings had been taken and partly erased.
"There's Nanticoke," he said, laying a thick, stubby finger on the chart."It's buoyed out for some ten miles, and there's good water clear toVienna; that's twenty odd miles up."
"Stow the chart, Shute," said Haley, impatiently. "I tell you Jim Adamsknows the river better than any figuring can cover it. He ran it forthree years, canoeing and tonging in the fog"--Haley winkedsignificantly. "He'll put us up there. The question is, will you go?"
"I've said as how I would go, once, and I sticks by my word," answeredCaptain Bill forcibly. "The others will go, too. I'd follow Jim Adams'swake and be sure of good water, anywhere."
"And we stick it out, steamer or no steamer," said Haley, looking at theothers, earnestly. The captains nodded. Haley leered, as though gratifiedat the decision. "There's no police tub can hurt us, if we stick togetherand fight," he exclaimed; "and like as not we'll get clear without it."
There was some further conference, following which the three visitingcaptains returned to their vessels and the lines that held them togetherwere cast off.
The day passed easily for the crews. There was but little dredging,though Haley and the others would not have them wholly idle. They workedin desultory fashion along the foot of Hooper island throughout the day,and toward evening sailed in slowly through the strait.
There had been no definite orders given to anybody aboard the Brandt, yetit was known to all that there was something on foot for the night. Thelet-up in the work of the day indicated that; furthermore, there was anair of mystery, of something impending, throughout the craft, that wasfelt and understood.
With the coming of night there rose up a mist from the surface of thewater that dimmed the vision, though the stars showed clear in the sky. Athin fog gave an indefiniteness to the shore lines and made distantlights here and there twinkle vaguely.
The four vessels, the Brandt leading, sailed eastward as night fell,passing through the strait across the head of Tangier Sound. Jim Adamsheld the wheel and Haley gave orders to the crew, trimming the sails oreasing off as the course varied.
Jim Adams, evidently glorying in the adventure, which defied the law thathe despised, noted the points along the course with a series of chuckles.
"There's old Sharkfin," he called jubilantly, as the gleam from thelighthouse on the shoal of that name showed ahead. "We just goeseast-no'th-east, sah, after we leave old Sharkfin Shoal a half mile tothe eastward, and then we goes up between Nanticoke Point Spit and ClayIsland Shoal like walkin' up a meetin' house aisle."
Haley gazed ahead through the light mist.
"I've only been up the Nanticoke twice," he said. "There's buoys, I know,for some ten miles up, and then it takes a native born to find the restof the way."
Jim Adams chuckled. "I don' need 'em," he said, "not 'round this river. Ican feel my way up; an' they can paint the spars all black and itwouldn't fool me, not a bit."
Passing the lighthouse and leaving it astern some miles, the fourbug-eyes took a more northerly course, entering the river. They carriedno lights, and the cabin and forecastle lamps had been put out, so thatno gleam showed from the ports. A fresh breeze from the west, blowingalmost directly across the river, carried them up at a fair clip.
"There's land close aboard, off the starboard," said Haley, after theyhad gone some three miles up.
"Yessah," responded the mate; "that's Roaring Point, for shuah. You looksharp, Mister Haley, and you'll see the buoy, a red spar when the sunshines, but I reckon it's pretty black to-night. Couple of miles abovethat, and I specs there's some pow'ful nice oysters a-sittin' up andwaitin' for us to call."
Jim Adams pointed, as he spoke, to where there showed the low sand spitof Roaring Point on the right as they sailed, with some trees growing,back from the shore. A landing made out from the south bank of the point,and a thin sprinkling of houses was scattered here and there in thevicinity. The vessels sailed noiselessly and darkly past these, and wentup the river, turning the point.
Not long after, the order given by Haley for all hands to make ready toldthat the business of the night was about to be begun in earnest. On theeastern bank of the river were extensive oyster beds, private property,carefully planted and nursed, and rich in their yield.
Hamilton Haley, engaged in his favourite pursuit of poaching, was in raregood humour. Moreover, he had cause for self congratulation in that hehad regained his man, Sam Black, from Captain Bill's bug-eye, and yetanother man, Captain Bill having taken on two men from Hooper island.
Soon the cry of the winch and the clank of the dredging chain broke thestillness of the night, as the Brandt, with sheets started, driftedslowly in a zig-zag course along the river bank. The other vessels workedlikewise. There was no rest for anyone then. They worked like galleyslaves under the whip. The dredge was hardly down before the command cameto wind. It came up heavy with the ill-gotten spoil from the beds. HenryBurns found no favour in the eyes of Haley this night. He toiled with theothers, now turning wearily at the winch, now helping to drag aboard thedredge, now sweating in the foul hold, stowing away the plunder.
Some time in the night, as he turned, with back and arms aching, at thehandle of the winder, a strange humming, singing sound filled his ears.It was like an angry wasp darting about his head. Then a sharp reportcame from the neighbouring bank. It was followed by others. The sound asof wasps filled the air as a dozen bullets passed harmlessly over theheads of the crew of the Brandt.
Haley gave a cry of surprise and anger.
"They've found us," he said, and ran for the cabin. He reappearedquickly, carrying a rifle in either hand.
"Here, you, Sam Black," he called, "take this wheel, smart now. Let thosesheets run way off there--no skulking into the forecastle, you men, oryou'll get a shot from me. Jim, here's a gun; you're a good shot. Give'em an answer. Let her go along easy, Sam. We'll show 'em we can play atshooting as well as they."
Haley, issuing his commands in short, angry sentences, and seeing thevessel running as he wished, called to the crew to lie flat on the deck,but to be ready to jump at his word. Then he and the mate, reinforced bythe cook, likewise armed with a rifle, proceeded to return the fire fromthe shore from the shelter of the after-house.
The other craft had swung into line of battle, similarly,
and one ofthem, Captain Bill's bug-eye, had already opened fire on the partyashore.
A running fight now ensued. The dredgers, emboldened by their numericalstrength, had no thought of quitting the reefs. The attacking party, onthe other hand, seemed to be constantly recruited in numbers, and thefire from the river bank grew in volume. The dredgers, with booms farout, kept barely under steerage way, following one another closely.
Coming up under the lee of a promontory of the river bank called RaggedPoint, the leading vessel headed into the wind; the sheets were hauledaft and the craft came about, heading down stream once more, to returninto better range of the enemy. The others followed, in turn.
An unexpected thing happened, however, just as the Brandt was swinginginto the wind, with Haley hauling on the main sheet. A chance bullet,whistling across the stern, clipped the sheet fairly in two; Haley,straining at the rope as it parted, was sent sprawling on the deck,rolling over and over.
He sprang up in a great fury, but equal to the emergency. Still holdingthe end of the sheet in one hand, he darted to the stern, untied thepainter of the skiff that was towing and drew the skiff alongside.
"Here you, youngster," he called to Henry Burns, who happened to benearest, "jump in there! Take this sheet and make it fast around the endof that boom. Lively now!"
Henry Burns obeyed, in lively fashion, as ordered. Making the end of therope fast to the thwart in front of him, he sculled the skiff a fewstrokes, seized hold of the swinging boom, loosed the sheet again, took aclove hitch around the boom and was back on deck in a twinkling. Haleygrowled an approval, as he hauled the boom aft and the bug-eye went offthe wind a little to make headway so as to come about.
The accident, however, had caused the vessels to separate for the time,the three other bug-eyes having already gone down stream some littledistance. With this a new peril confronted the Brandt. Seeing the craftthus cut off from its allies, the party ashore had resolved on a boldventure. A half-dozen small boats suddenly darted out from the shadow ofthe bank, making straight for the Brandt, rowed by strong arms.
The situation was one of danger to the Brandt. The leading row-boat,propelled by two oarsmen, and with two other men crouched in the bottom,armed with rifles, were already near. Yet the Brandt must keep on itscourse for a minute longer, to enable it to come about, and not mis-stay.To do so, brought it still nearer the approaching boat.
Hamilton Haley, leaping down into the cabin and emerging with a horn inone hand, gave several blasts with it. Then he sprang to the wheel andtook it from the hands of Sam Black. His eyes twinkled with cunning, ashe threw the bug-eye still further off the wind, directing it now fullagainst the approaching boat. The manoeuvre was all unexpected. Therowers vainly tried to swing their boat out of the way. They were toolate. Striking the small craft with its sharp bow, the bug-eye smashed itclean in two, riding over the halves and submerging the occupants. Thenext moment, the Brandt had swung into the wind, come about and headeddown stream.
The fleet of row-boats paused to rescue the struggling and half-drownedmen from the icy water; the other bug-eyes, alarmed by Haley's signal,had turned and come up to meet the Brandt. The four vessels opened fireon the row-boat fleet, even as they were engaged in the work of rescue.Defeated in their plan to cut off the single bug-eye, the rowboats putback to shore and the party scrambled into hiding.
Warned by this attempt, however, the captains of the poaching fleet nowresolved to make sure against any similar boarding party. Taking aposition in the river where the fire was hottest, and the owners of theoyster beds seemed to be gathered in greatest numbers, judging by thefire, the bug-eyes drew close together, side by side; an anchor wasdropped from the one farthest down-stream, Captain Bill's vessel, andlashings were passed to hold them together. This position, as the deckswere flush, would allow the united crews of the four to concentrate onany single deck to resist boarders.
Hitherto, the dredgers had escaped serious harm; but now a rifle bullet,landing in a number of men bunched on the second dredger, wounded two ofthem and they fell to the deck, uttering cries of pain. Another bulletcut the cheek of Sam Black, who had resumed the wheel of the Brandt; buthe held to his post, with a handkerchief bound about his head. The partyon shore gave no evidence of the injuries they may have received.
That the attacking owners were being driven from their position by theconcentrated fire from all four vessels was apparent, however. Graduallythe fire from shore grew less and less. The dredgers, after discharging afew more volleys and waiting for a quarter of an hour, without beingfired on, cast loose once more and resumed their dredging.
But they were not suffered to work unmolested for more than an hour. Atthe end of about that time, the river bank was illumined again with aline of flashes, and the crack of rifles smote upon the air. But now thefight was even more uncertain and the firing still more a matter ofchance. For the wind was drawing around to the southward and a fog wasslowly drifting up the river, blown at first in detached patches whichblotted out the shore one moment, then left it partly cleared.
The dredgers resumed their position, lashed together and at anchor, so asnot to lose sight of one another in the fog, and directed their fire moreby the sound of the enemy's firing than by sight. The weird, uncertainbattle made a strange picture, with the streams of rifle fire penetratingthe fog and the smoke of powder arising through the fog banks.
And then, amid a momentary lull in the firing, there came suddenly out ofthe fog in the direction of down the river, the unmistakable jingle of abell. They knew the sound. It came from an engine-room. Some steamer wasapproaching. The captains waited apprehensively. There could be littledoubt of the nature of the craft.
If doubt there was, however, it was soon dispelled. There came a flash inthe mist, a ball from a one-pounder hummed through the rigging and toreaway a main-mast shroud. The report of the piece, mounted in the bow ofthe police steamer, followed. Then a voice came through a megaphone,"Ahoy there! I'll give you captains just two minutes to launch yourskiffs and come aboard here, or I'll sink you."
Captain Hamilton Haley, raising his rifle to his shoulder, aimeddeliberately and fired in the direction of the voice. The bullet musthave gone close to the captain of the steamer, for there came a sound asof shattered glass. The shot had hit the window of the pilot-house.
There ensued a silence of a moment, and then there came a heavy riflefire from the steamer, mingled with the heavier crash of the one-pounder.The bug-eyes took up the firing; and the air was alive with bullets.Moreover, the party ashore, jubilant at the reinforcement through thestrong arm of the navy, sent up an exultant shout and poured a volleyfrom their ambush.
For a half-hour the battle waged, the steamer alternately drawing nearenough to be clearly seen through the fog, and then backing water as itwas met by a staggering fire from the four vessels. It seemed as thoughthe fight might even be won by the sailing captains, outnumbering as theydid the crew aboard the steamer.
Hamilton Haley, aroused to fury by the desperate position in which hefound himself, no longer sought concealment behind house or mast. Hiscraft lay farthest up-stream in the line of vessels, but he had crosseddecks to that of the nearest bug-eye and stood boldly erect, firingsteadily whenever a flash from the fog gave indication of a possiblemark.
Again, he was not unmindful of the fate of his own vessel; and, as thefire slackened for a time, he returned to the deck of the Brandt.Perceiving his advantage at the end of the line, he ordered the lashingsmade ready for easy slipping.
"Here, you youngsters," he said to Henry Burns and Wallace Brooks, whowere lying flat on the deck, "you get aft there, ready to give Sam Blacka hand if he needs it. He's hit, and may peter out. You jump on to thatwheel if I call, or I'll know why. And one of you be ready to tendsheet."
Haley brandished his rifle as he spoke, and the two youths made haste toobey, taking up their positions aft. The captain returned to the side ofJim Adams on the deck of the bug-eye of Captain Bill.
Aga
in the firing from the steamer ceased abruptly and the sound of theengines was stilled. The captains and their mates ceased firing also, andwaited for action on the part of the steamer. They were wearied by thestrain of the conflict and were glad of the respite. They were making asuccessful fight, however, it seemed, although they had had by this timesix men wounded in some way or another.
"We're beating him off, I reckon," said Captain Bill, seating himself onthe deck, with his rifle laid beside him. "We're too many for him; but itgravels me how we're going to get out of this ere river, with him belowus."
"We'll get out," declared Haley, confidently. "Only wait till the windblows up a bit more. It's coming around square to the south'ard, and thefog's getting thicker every minute. We'll slip past him by and by, whenhe gets enough of trying to shoot holes through the sky--hello, there's abell. He's coming up again, I guess."
A single bell in the engine-room of the police steamer had given thesignal for her to move ahead slowly. They knew the steamer was comingtoward them, although as yet she was not visible. Then, to theirastonishment, there came the jingle of another bell.
Hamilton Haley and Captain Bill called to their men to be ready.
"He means business sure enough this time," muttered Haley. "He's givenhim the speed bell. He's coming on the run."
The words were hardly uttered when the steamer rushed forth into viewfrom the fog. She was, indeed, coming on at full speed, without firing agun. Not until she was almost upon them did the bug-eye captains realizewhat was intended. They had sent a volley at her, to which she paid noheed, but was coming silently and swiftly on.
Gathering speed as she came, the smoke pouring in black clouds from herfunnel, the steamer rushed directly at the nearest bug-eye which laybroadside in her path.
"Get back! Jump, boys! The rascal's going to ram us!" shouted Haley,darting back across the decks to his own vessel.
The crews scattered, and the deck of the bug-eye was cleared. They werenot a minute too soon. On came the steamer, tearing through the fog, withthe sparks flying from its stack, lighting up the black smoke. There wasa crash that could be heard far ashore as its iron bow splintered theside of the bug-eye, buried itself in the yielding planks and cut thecraft half in two.
The bug-eye reeled under the shock and groaned as if in mortal agony. Thesteamer's bell jangled twice and the craft backed away, leaving a greathole through which the water poured in a torrent. Another bell, and thesteamer was going astern at full speed. Some distance away she reversedagain, and once more came on. Into the same gap she steered; her iron bowonce more rent and tore the planking asunder. Again she backed away.
The vessel, rapidly filling, broke from the lashings that held it to itscompanion and sank to the bottom of the river.
Thrown into the utmost confusion and dismay at this unexpected turn ofaffairs, the captains now thought only of safety in flight. The seamen ofthe foundered vessel scattered through the three remaining ones; therewas a frantic rush to lashings and halyards; knives were drawn andlashings cut when that was easier and quicker. Sails were run up andorders shouted hoarsely amid the confusion. The two anchors were slipped,and left. There was no time to get them aboard.
There seemed to be no escape, however, for at least one other of thebug-eyes--the one that lay nearest the steamer. The latter craft was evennow manoeuvring to reach a point from which to ram the bug-eye, only thesunken vessel that lay between preventing her from repeating her successat once. Tom Noyes, in command of the imperiled vessel, was driving hismen to their utmost to get sail on before he should be cut down.
But for the fog he would have had little chance. The steamer workedcautiously out into the river and turned, heading for Tom Noyes's bug-eyejust as she began slowly to make headway, under foresail and jib. Thesteamer gave the signal to go ahead, slowly, then another for full speed.The bug-eye was standing slowly in toward the bank, endeavouring to putthe wreck once more between itself and its foe.
At this critical moment, Hamilton Haley, whose craft was already underweigh and standing across to the opposite shore, could not resist takinga parting shot at his enemy, even though it might imperil his ownchances. He raised his rifle and fired in the direction of the steamer'spilot-house. It was a chance shot, for he was even then losing sight ofthe steamer in the fog. Yet, with the report, there came a cry of painfrom the steamer. Haley bawled exultantly. He knew not what he had done,but the sound told him of some success of his shot. It had, indeed,struck the arm of the pilot, inflicting a wound that caused him to dropthe wheel and fall back, fainting.
The steamer, now at full speed, veered in its course. Before the captaincould signal for the engines to slow down or could right the steamer onits course, the police boat had run afoul of the wreck and had becomeentangled, its bottom resting on the after-house of the sunken bug-eye.
The next moment, Haley passed exultantly down stream. Tom Noyes, roundingthe wreck inshore, went on his way; the other bug-eye slipped past thesteamer, and the fog hid them from view.
Yet they were not to get off scot free. Even as he stood, chuckling attheir success, a bullet from the farther shore grazed the head of JimAdams; and, stunned, he lurched and went overboard. Henry Burns, seeinghim fall, and springing to the side as the negro's body was swept astern,caught a hand in his clothing and held on. Haley, running to the rescue,seized the mate's arm, and, together, they dragged him aboard. Jim Adamshad had a close call. The bullet had stunned him. An inch more and it hadgone through his head. He came to, a half-hour later as they went downstream, groping their way in the fog; and, in half an hour more, was ableto "feel" the way, as he called it, out to the mouth of the river.
The escape was made. They were free. But Captain Bill had lost a vessel.