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diff --git a/25472-h/25472-h.htm b/25472-h/25472-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b24e4c4 --- /dev/null +++ b/25472-h/25472-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10216 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Blackbeard Buccaneer, by Ralph D. Paine. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .bbox2 {border: solid 1px; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -4em; margin-left: 8em; margin-right: 10%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackbeard: Buccaneer, by Ralph D. Paine + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blackbeard: Buccaneer + +Author: Ralph D. Paine + +Illustrator: Frank E. Schoonover + +Release Date: May 14, 2008 [EBook #25472] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLACKBEARD: BUCCANEER *** + + + + +Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Emmy and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class='center'><a name="front" id="front"></a> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Cover and Frontis"> +<tr><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="300" height="419" alt="Cover" title="Cover" /> +</div></td><td align='left'><div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="300" height="360" alt="THIS LEAN, STRAIGHT ROVER LOOKED THE PART OF A COMPETENT SOLDIER" title="THIS LEAN, STRAIGHT ROVER LOOKED THE PART OF A COMPETENT SOLDIER" /> +<span class="caption">THIS LEAN, STRAIGHT ROVER LOOKED THE PART OF A COMPETENT SOLDIER</span> +</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='bbox'><div class='bbox2'> +<h1>BLACKBEARD<br /> +BUCCANEER</h1> +</div><div class='bbox2'> +<p><i>By</i> RALPH D. PAINE</p></div> +<div class='bbox2'> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 205px;"> +<img src="images/title.jpg" width="205" height="200" alt="Title page" title="Title page" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /> +<i>Illustrated by<br /> +Frank E. Schoonover</i><br /></div></div> +<div class='bbox2'><div class='center'> +THE PENN PUBLISHING<br /> +COMPANY PHILADELPHIA<br /> +</div></div></div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<small>COPYRIGHT</small><br /> +<small>1922 BY</small><br /> +<small>THE PENN</small><br /> +<small>PUBLISHING</small><br /> +<small>COMPANY</small><br /></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/emblem.jpg" width="100" height="91" alt="Emblem" title="Emblem" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<small>Blackbeard: Buccaneer</small><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<small>Made in the U. S. A.</small><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Contents</h2> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='right'>I.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">That Courteous Pirate, Captain Bonnet</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Merchant Trader, <i>Plymouth Adventure</i></span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Held As Hostages to Blackbeard</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_43">43</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Captive Seamen in the Forecastle</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Releasing a Fearful Weapon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Voyage of the Little Raft</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Mist of the Cherokee Swamp</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Episode of the Winding Creek</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Blackbeard's Errand is Interrupted</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Sea Urchin and the Carpenter's Mate</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jack Journeys Afoot</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_177">177</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Private Account To Settle</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Our Heroes Seek Seclusion</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Blackbeard Appears in Fire and Brimstone</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mr. Peter Forbes Mourns His Nephew</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_232">232</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ned Rackham's Plans Go Much Amiss</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Great Fight of Captain Teach</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVIII.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Old Buccaneer Is Loyal</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIX.</td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Quest for Pirates' Gold</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">This Lean, Straight Rover Looked the Part of a Competent Soldier</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#front"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Brawn of These Lads Made the Pike a Match for a Pirate's Cutlass</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The First Mate Leaped Up with a Horrible Yell</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jack Almost Bumped into the Dugout Canoe</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_129">129</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">They Capered and Hugged Each Other</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">He Loomed Like the Belial Whom He Was So Fond of Claiming as His Mentor</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="400" height="260" alt="On deck" title="On deck" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="400" height="204" alt="Title" title="Title" /> +</div> + + + + +<h2>Blackbeard: Buccaneer</h2> + + +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THAT COURTEOUS PIRATE, CAPTAIN BONNET</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HE year of 1718 seems very dim and far away, +but the tall lad who sauntered down to the harbor +of Charles Town, South Carolina, on a fine, +bright morning, was much like the youngsters of this +generation. His clothes were quite different, it is true, +and he lived in a queer, rough world, but he detested +grammar and arithmetic and loved adventure, and would +have made a sturdy tackle for a modern high-school +football team. He wore a peaked straw hat of Indian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +weave, a linen shirt open at the throat, short breeches +with silver buckles at the knees, and a flint-lock pistol +hung from his leather belt.</div> + +<p>He passed by scattered houses and stores which were +mere log huts loopholed for defense, with shutters and +doors of hewn plank heavy enough to stop a musket ball. +The unpaved lanes wandered between mud holes in +which pigs wallowed enjoyably. Negro slaves, half-naked +and bearing heavy burdens, jabbered the dialects +of the African jungle from which they had been kidnapped +a few months before. Yemassee Indians clad +in tanned deer-skins bartered with the merchants and +hid their hatred of the English. Jovial, hard-riding +gentlemen galloped in from the indigo plantations and +dismounted at the tavern to drink and gamble and fight +duels at the smallest excuse.</p> + +<p>Young Jack Cockrell paid scant heed to these accustomed +sights but walked as far as the wharf built of +palmetto piling. The wide harbor and the sea that +flashed beyond the outer bar were ruffled by a piping +breeze out of the northeast. The only vessel at anchor +was a heavily sparred brig whose bulwarks were +high enough to hide the rows of cannon behind the closed +ports.</p> + +<p>The lad gazed at the shapely brig with a lively curiosity, +as if here was something really interesting. Presently +a boat splashed into the water and was tied alongside +the vessel while a dozen of the crew tumbled in to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +sprawl upon the thwarts and shove the oars into the +thole-pins. An erect, graceful man in a red coat and a +great beaver hat roared a command from the stern-sheets +and the pinnace pulled in the direction of the +wharf.</p> + +<p>"Pirates, to be sure!" said Jack Cockrell to himself, +without a sign of alarm. "'Tis Captain Stede Bonnet +and his <i>Royal James</i>. I know the ship. I saw her +when she came in leaking last October and was careened +on the beach at Sullivan's Island. A rich voyage this +time, for the brig rides deep."</p> + +<p>The coast of South Carolina swarmed with pirates +two hundred years ago, and they cared not a rap for the +law. Indeed, some of these rascals lived on friendly +terms with the people of the small settlements and swaggered +ashore to squander the broad gold pieces and merchandise +stolen from honest trading vessels. You must +not blame the South Carolina colonists too harshly because +they sometimes welcomed the visiting pirates instead +of clapping them in jail. Charles Town was a +village at the edge of a wilderness filled with hostile Indians. +By sea it stood in fear of attack by the Spaniards +of Florida and Havana. There were almost no crops +for food and among the population were many runaways +from England, loafers and vagabonds who hated +the sight of work.</p> + +<p>The pirates helped them fight their enemies and did a +thriving trade in goods that were sorely needed. Respectable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +citizens grumbled and one high official was +removed in disgrace because he encouraged the pirates +to make Charles Town their headquarters, but there was +no general outcry unless the sea-rovers happened to +molest English ships outside the harbor.</p> + +<p>It was Captain Stede Bonnet himself who steered the +pinnace and cursed his sweating sailors in a deep voice +which went echoing across the bay. He made a brave +figure in his scarlet coat, with the brass guard of his +naked cutlass winking in the sun. His boat's crew had +been mustered from many climes and races, several +strapping Englishmen, a wiry, spluttering little +Frenchman, a swarthy Portuguese with gold rings in his +ears, a brace of stolid Norwegians, and two or three +coal black negroes from Barbadoes.</p> + +<p>They were well armed, every weapon burnished clean +of rust and ready for instant use. Some wore tarnished, +sea-stained finery looted from hapless prizes, a brocaded +waistcoat, a pair of tasseled jack-boots, a plumed hat, a +ruffled cape. The heads of several were bound around +with knotted kerchiefs on which dark stains showed,—marks +of a brawl aboard the brig or a fight with another +ship.</p> + +<p>Soon a second boat moved away from the <i>Royal +James</i> and many people drifted toward the wharf to +see the pirates come ashore, but they left plenty of room +when the captain scrambled up the weedy ladder and +told his men to follow him. Charles Town felt little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +dread of Stede Bonnet himself. He knew how to conduct +himself as a gentleman and the story was well +known,—how he had been a major in the British army +and a man of wealth and refinement. He had left his +home in Barbadoes to follow the trade of piracy because +he couldn't get along with his wife, so the rumor ran. +At any rate, he seemed oddly out of place among the +dirty rogues who sailed under the black flag.</p> + +<p>He looked more the soldier than the sailor as he strode +along the wharf, his lean, dark visage both grim and +melancholy, his chin clean shaven, his mustachios carefully +cropped. There were respectful greetings from +the crowd of idlers and a gray-haired seaman all warped +with rheumatism spoke up louder than the rest.</p> + +<p>"Good morrow to ye, Cap'n Bonnet! I be old Sam +Griscom that sailed bos'n with you on a marchant voyage +out of Liverpool. An' now you are a fine gentleman +of fortune, with moidores and pieces of eight to +fling at the gals, an' here I be, a sheer hulk on the +beach."</p> + +<p>Captain Stede Bonnet halted, stared from beneath +heavy brows, and a smile made his seamed, sun-dried +face almost gentle as he replied:</p> + +<p>"It cheers me to run athwart a true old shipmate. A +slant of ill fortune, eh, Sam Griscom? You are too old +and crippled to sail in the <i>Royal James</i>. Here, and a +blessing with the gift."</p> + +<p>The pirate skipper rammed a hand in his pocket and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +flung a shower of gold coins at the derelict seaman while +the crowd cheered the generous deed. It was easy to +guess why Stede Bonnet was something of a hero in +Charles Town. He passed on and turned into the +street. Most of his ruffians were at his heels but one of +the younger of them delayed to pay his compliments to +a pretty girl whose manner was sweet and shy and gentle. +She had remained aloof from the crowd, having +some errand of her own at the wharf, and evidently +hoped to be unobserved. Jack Cockrell had failed to +notice her, absorbed as he was in gazing his fill of Captain +Stede Bonnet.</p> + +<p>The girl resented the young pirate's gallantry and +would have fled, but he nimbly blocked her path. Just +then Jack Cockrell happened to glance that way and his +anger flamed hot. He was about to run after Captain +Bonnet and beg him to interfere but the maid's distress +was too urgent. Her blackguardly admirer was trying +to slip his arm around her trim waist while he laughingly +demanded a kiss from those fair lips. She evaded him +and screamed for help.</p> + +<p>There were lusty townsmen among those who beheld +the scene but they sheepishly stood in their tracks and +were afraid to punish the insolent pirate with his dirk +and pistols. He was much taller and heavier than Jack +Cockrell, the lad of seventeen, who came of gentlefolk +and was unused to brawls with weapons. But the +youngster hesitated no more than an instant, although<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +his own pistol lacked a flint and was carried for +show.</p> + +<p>His quick eye spied a capstan bar which he snatched +up as a cudgel. Chivalry had taught him that a man +should never reckon the odds when a woman appealed +for succor. With a headlong rush he crossed the wharf +and swung the hickory bar. The pirate dodged the blow +and whipped out his dirk which slithered through Jack's +shirt and scratched his shoulder. Undismayed, he aimed +a smashing blow at the pirate's wrist and the dirk went +spinning into the water.</p> + +<p>The rascal tugged at a pistol in his belt but it was +awkward work with his left hand and he was bewildered +by this amazing attack. Before he could clear for action, +Jack smote him on the pate and the battle ended +then and there, for the pirate staggered back, missed his +footing, and toppled overboard with a tremendous +splash.</p> + +<p>Leaping to the edge of the wharf, Jack saw him bob +to the surface and strike out for shore. Then the +doughty young champion ran to offer his escort to the +damsel in distress. But she had hastened to slip away +from this hateful notoriety and he saw her at the bend +of the street where she turned to wave him a grateful +farewell.</p> + +<p>He would have hastened to overtake her but just then +Captain Stede Bonnet came striding back in a temper +so black that it terrified his own men. His wrath was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +not aimed at Jack Cockrell, for he laid a hand upon the +lad's arm and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"A shrewd stroke, boy, and a mettlesome spirit! You +struck him swift and hard. 'Twould please me better +if you had killed the dog."</p> + +<p>Stede Bonnet waited with folded arms until the culprit +had emerged from the water. Jack Cockrell had +punished him severely and there was no more fight in +him. His head was reeling, the blood ran into his eyes, +and he had swallowed much salt water. Captain Bonnet +crooked a finger at him and he obeyed without a +word. For a moment they stood face to face, the +wretched offender trembling, the captain scowling as he +said:</p> + +<p>"And so you mistook a lady for a common serving +wench, Will Brant? Would ye have Charles Town rise +and reeve the ropes about our necks? Is this your promise +of good behavior? Learn a lesson then, poor fool."</p> + +<p>With the steel-shod butt of a pistol Stede Bonnet hit +him squarely between the eyes. He dropped without a +groan and lay stretched out as if dead. The captain +kicked him once and carelessly shouted:</p> + +<p>"Ho, men! Toss this squire o' dames into the pinnace +to await our return. And harkee, take warning."</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell felt almost sorry for his fallen foeman +but the other pirates grinned and did as they were told. +It was a trifling episode. Resuming his stroll to the +tavern, Captain Bonnet linked Jack's arm in his and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +fairly towed him along while the assorted scoundrels +trooped behind them. It was shocking company for a +lad of the most respectable connections but he felt +greatly flattered by the distinction. The name of Stede +Bonnet had spread terror from the Capes of the Chesapeake +to the blue waters of the Caribbean.</p> + +<p>"And so you were unafraid of this bullying Will +Brant of mine," said the captain, with one of his pleasant +smiles. "You clipped his comb right handsomely. +And who may ye be, my brave young sprig?"</p> + +<p>"I am John Spencer Cockrell, may it please you, sir," +was the answer. "'Twas a small thing to do for a lady. +Your pirate would have been too much for me in a fair +set-to."</p> + +<p>"Pirate? A poor word!" objected Captain Bonnet, +his accents severe but the bold eyes twinkling. "We +are loyal servants of the King, sworn to do mischief to +his lawful enemies,—to wit, all ships and sailors of +Spain. For such a young gentleman adventurer as you, +Master Cockrell, there is a berth in the <i>Royal James</i>. +Will ye rendezvous at the tavern and sign your fist to +the articles?"</p> + +<p>Jack stammered that his kinfolk would never consent, +at which Captain Bonnet forbore to coax him but kept +a grip on his arm as though they were chums who could +not bear to be parted. Down the middle of the street +paraded this extraordinary company, the seamen breaking +into a song which ran:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'>"In Bristowe I left Poll ashore,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Well stored wi' togs an' gold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And off I go to sea for more,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">A-piratin' so bold.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An' wounded in the arm I got,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">An' then a pretty blow;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Comed home I find Poll's flowed away,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Yo, ho, with the rum below!</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Charles Town might be glad to get the pirates' gold +but it seemed a timorous welcome, for the merchants +peered from their doorways like rabbits when the hounds +are loose, and nervous old gentlemen took cover in the +near-by alleys. Stede Bonnet knew how to keep his men +in hand and allowed only part of the company ashore at +once. They were like hilarious children out for a lark, +capering outside the tavern to the music of a strolling +fiddler or buying horses on the spot and trying to ride +them. When they were pitched off on their heads the +mirth was uproarious.</p> + +<p>In a field beside the tavern some townsmen were +shooting at a mark for a prize of a dressed bullock while +a group of gentlemen from the plantations were intent +on a cock-fight in the tap-room. Here was rare pastime +for the frolicsome blades of the <i>Royal James</i> and soon +they were banging away with their pistols or betting +their gold-pieces on the steel-gaffed birds, singing the +louder as the bottle was passed. Captain Stede Bonnet +stayed prudently sober, ready for any emergency, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +demeanor cool and watchful while he chatted with old +acquaintances.</p> + +<p>He talked often with Jack Cockrell to whom he had +taken a strong fancy, and pressed the lad to dine with +him. Jack was uneasy at being seen so publicly with a +notorious pirate but the experience was delightful beyond +words. The captain asked him many questions, +twisting his mustachios and staring down from his commanding +height with an air of friendly interest. He +had found a lad after his own heart.</p> + +<p>The seamen tired of their sport and sought new diversion. +Some of them kicked off their boots and +clinched in wrestling matches for prodigal stakes of +gold and jewels. Others found girls to dance with them +or wandered off to buy useless trinkets in the shops. +Jack Cockrell knew he ought to be posting home to +dinner but he was tempted to accept Stede Bonnet's +cordial bidding. Boyish friends of his hovered near and +regarded him as a hero. No pirate captain had ever +deigned to notice them.</p> + +<p>Alas for Jack and his puffed-up pride which was +doomed to a sudden fall! There advanced from a better +quarter of the town a florid, foppishly dressed gentleman +of middle age who walked with a pompous gait. +He was stout-bodied and the heat of the day oppressed +him. Mopping his face with a lace handkerchief or +fanning himself with his hat, he halted now and then in +a shady spot. Very mindful of his rank and dignity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +was Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes, sometime London +barrister, at present Secretary to the Council of the +Province.</p> + +<p>He differed from some of his neighbors in that he +abominated pirates and would have given them short +shift. A trifle near-sighted, he was quite close to the +tavern before he espied his own nephew and ward, Jack +Cockrell, in this shameful company of roisterers. The +august uncle blinked, opened his mouth, and turned as +red as a lobster. Indignation choked his speech. For +his part, Jack stood dumfounded and quaking, the picture +of a coward with a guilty conscience. He would +have tried to steal from sight but it was too late.</p> + +<p>Captain Stede Bonnet enjoyed the tableau and several +of his wicked sailors were mimicking the pompous +strut of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes. Poor Jack +mumbled some explanation but his irate uncle first paid +his respects to Captain Bonnet.</p> + +<p>"Shame to you, sirrah," he cried in a voice that shook +with passion. "A man of good birth, by all accounts, +who has fallen so low as to lead these vile gallows-birds! +And you would entice this lad of mine to follow your +dirty trade?"</p> + +<p>Captain Bonnet doffed the great beaver hat and +bowed low in mocking courtesy. He perceived that this +fussy lawyer was not wholly a popinjay, for it required +courage to insult a pirate to his face. The reply was +therefore milder than expected.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mayhap I am painted blacker than the fact, Councilor. +As for this fine stripling who has so disgraced +himself, the fault is mine. He risked his life to save a +maid from harm. The deed won my affection."</p> + +<p>"The maids of Charles Town would need to fear no +harm if more pirates were hanged, Captain Bonnet," +roundly declared Mr. Forbes, shaking his gold-tipped +cane at the freebooter.</p> + +<p>"'Tis fortunate for me that you lack the power, my +fat and petulant gentleman," was the smiling response.</p> + +<p>"Laugh while you may," quoth the other. "These +Provinces may soon proclaim joint action against such +pests as you."</p> + +<p>With a shrug, the Secretary turned to his crestfallen +nephew and sharply exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Home with you, John Cockrell. You shall go dinnerless +and be locked in your room."</p> + +<p>The seamen guffawed at this and Jack furiously resented +their ridicule. He was on the point of rebellion +as he hotly retorted:</p> + +<p>"I am no child to be treated thus, Uncle Peter. +Didn't you hear Captain Bonnet report that I had +proved myself a man? I trounced one of his own crew, +a six-foot bully with a dirk and pistols."</p> + +<p>"A fig for that," rapped out Uncle Peter. "Your +bully was drunk and helpless, I have no doubt. Will +you bandy words with me?"</p> + +<p>With this his plump fingers closed on Jack's elbow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +which he used as a handle to lead him firmly and rapidly +away. Behind them pranced a limber young negro who +showed every tooth in his head. Jack heard the derisive +laughter of the pirates who had hailed him as a hero. +His cup of bitterness overflowed when it occurred to +him that Captain Bonnet would despise a lad who could +be led home in custody of a dandified tyrant of an uncle.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THE MERCHANT TRADER, <i>PLYMOUTH ADVENTURE</i></h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>R</big>UBBING his ear which Mr. Peter Arbuthnot +Forbes had soundly boxed before releasing him, +Jack marched along in gloomy silence until he +was conducted into his small, unplastered room. His +uncle stalked out and shot the ponderous bolt behind +him. Passing through the kitchen, he halted to scold +the black cook as a lazy slattern and then sat himself +down to a lonely meal. Jack was a problem which the +finicky, middle-aged bachelor had been unable to solve. +He had undertaken the care of the boy after his parents +had died in the same week of a mysterious fever which +ravaged the settlement. The uncle failed to realize how +fast this strapping youngster was growing into manhood. +He disliked punishing him and was usually unhappy +after one of these stormy episodes.</div> + +<p>Mr. Peter Forbes pecked at his dinner with little +appetite and his plump face was clouded. Shoving back +his chair, he paced the floor in a fidgety manner and, at +length, opened the door of Jack's room. The hungry +prisoner was lounging upon a wooden settle, his chin in +his hand, while he sullenly stared at the wall. Always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +mindful of his manners, he slowly rose to his feet and +waited for another scolding.</p> + +<p>"I wish we might avoid such scenes as these, Jack," +sadly observed Uncle Peter, his hot temper cooled. +"No sooner do you leave my sight than some new mischief +is afoot."</p> + +<p>"You do not understand, sir," impatiently protested +the nephew. "In your eyes I am still the urchin who +came out from England clinging to his dear mother's +skirts. Would ye have me pass my time with girls or +have no other friends than snuffy old Parson Throckmorton, +my tutor, who tries to pound the Greek and +Latin into my thick skull?"</p> + +<p>"He is a wise and ripened scholar who wastes his +effort," was the dry comment. "Most of the lads of the +town are coarse louts who pattern after their ribald +elders, Jack. They will lead you into evil courses."</p> + +<p>"I shall always pray God to be a gentleman, sir," +was the spirited response, "but I must learn to fight +my own battles. Were it not for hardy pastimes with +these other stout lads, think you I could have cracked the +crown of a six-foot pirate?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Peter gazed at the boy before he spoke. +Tanned and hard and muscular, this was a nephew to +be proud of, a man in deeds if not in years, and there +was unswerving honesty in the straight mouth and firm +chin. The guardian sighed and then annoyance got the +better of his affection as he burst out:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perdition take all pirates! You were cozened by +this hell-rake of a Stede Bonnet and thought it a rare +pleasure! John Spencer Cockrell, own nephew to the +Secretary of the Colony!"</p> + +<p>"I did but copy older men of fair repute," demurely +answered Jack, a twinkle in his eye. "Graybeards of +Parson Throckmorton's flock traffick in merchandise +with the pirates and are mighty civil to them, I note."</p> + +<p>"A vile business!" cried Uncle Peter. "It was decided +at the recent conference in Virginia that I should +go to England as a delegate to lay before His Majesty's +Government such evidence as might invoke aid in our +campaign against the pirates. It was my intention to +leave you in care of Parson Throckmorton, Jack, but +I have now resolved to take you with me. And you +will remain at school in England. No more of this boon +comradeship with villains like Stede Bonnet."</p> + +<p>Poor Jack looked most unhappy at the tidings. It +was not at all in accord with his ambitions. Here was +worse punishment than he had dreamed his uncle could +inflict. Dolefully he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"To live in tame and stupid England, locked up in a +school? Why, I am big enough to join the forays +against the Indians, or to fight bloody battles against +the pirates if you really mean to chastise them. But I +cannot promise to attack Captain Bonnet. He is a +friend of mine."</p> + +<p>"You shall come to see him hanged," shouted Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +Peter Arbuthnot Forbes, very red in the face. "The +merchant ship <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> is expected soon, +and you and I shall take passage in her for Merry England, +thanking heaven to see the last of the barbarous +Carolinas for a time."</p> + +<p>"Thank your own thanks, sir," grumbled Jack. +"Captain Bonnet may be a pirate but he is not nearly +so heartless as my own uncle. He asked me to dinner +at the tavern. I am faint for lack of food. My stomach +sticks to my ribs. 'Tis a great pity you were never a +growing boy yourself. For a platter of cold meat and +bread I will take my oath to chop you a pile of firewood +as high as the kitchen."</p> + +<p>The gaoler relented and bustled out to ransack the +pantry. Having demolished a joint and a loaf, young +John Spencer Cockrell was in a mood much less melancholy. +In fact, when he swung the axe behind the fence +of hewn palings, he was humming the refrain of that +wicked ditty: "<i>Yo, Ho, with the Rum Below!</i>" He +was tremendously sorry that he had been snatched away +from the engaging society of Captain Bonnet and his +wild crew, and the future had a gloomy aspect, but even +these grievances were forgotten when he descried, in a +lane which led past the house, the lovely maid whose +cause he had championed at the wharf.</p> + +<p>She was Dorothy, only daughter of Colonel Malcolm +Stuart who commanded the militia forces of the Colony. +Although she was the elder by two or three years and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +gave herself the airs of a young lady, Jack Cockrell +hopelessly, secretly adored her. It was an anti-climax +for a hero to be serving out his sentence at the wood-pile +and he turned his back to the gate while he made +the chips fly. But Dorothy had no intention of ignoring +him. She paused with a smile so winsome that Jack's +heart fluttered and he dropped the axe to grasp her outstretched +hand. He squeezed it so hard that Dorothy +winced as she said:</p> + +<p>"What a masterful man it is, but please don't crush +my poor fingers. I fled from those pirates at the wharf, +Jack, instead of waiting to offer you my most humble +thanks. Will you accept them now? They come +straight from the heart."</p> + +<p>For such a reward as this Jack would have fought a +dozen pirates. Baring his head, he murmured bashfully:</p> + +<p>"A trifling service, Mistress Dorothy, and 'tis my +devout hope that I may always be ready in time of +need."</p> + +<p>"So?" she exclaimed, with mischief in her eyes. "I +believe you would slay a pirate each morning before +breakfast, should I ask it."</p> + +<p>"Or any other small favors like that," gallantly returned +Jack.</p> + +<p>"A proper courtier," cried Dorothy. "My father +will thank you when he returns from North Carolina. +When I ventured to the wharf this morning it was in +hopes of sighting his armed sloop."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>The dwelling of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes was at +some distance from the tavern which was on the sloping +ground that overlooked the harbor, among the spreading +live-oaks and magnolias. Borne on the breeze came +the sounds of Stede Bonnet's pirates at their revels, +pistol shots, wild choruses, drunken yells. Jack was not +disturbed although Mistress Dorothy moved closer and +laid a hand on his arm. Presently the tumult ceased, +abruptly, and now Jack was perplexed. It might mean +a sudden recall to the ship. Something was in the wind. +The youth and the maid stood listening. Jack was +about to scramble to the roof of the house in order to +gaze toward the harbor but Dorothy bade him stay with +her. Her fair cheek had paled and she shivered with a +vague apprehension.</p> + +<p>This sudden stillness was uncanny, threatening. +Soon, however, a trumpet blew a long, shrill call to +arms, and they heard one hoarse, jubilant huzza after +another.</p> + +<p>"Have Stede Bonnet's pirates mustered to sack the +town?" implored Dorothy.</p> + +<p>"I can speedily find out," replied her protector.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I pray you not to leave me," she tremulously +besought him.</p> + +<p>"Captain Bonnet will wreak no harm on Charles +Town," Jack assured her. "I know him too well for +that. You saw what he did to the base varlet who annoyed +you at the wharf,—felled him like an ox."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If only my father were here, to call out the troops +and rout this rabble of sea rogues, Jack dear," was her +fluttering prayer.</p> + +<p>A little after this, the tumult increased and it was +drawing nearer. It was a martial clamor of men on the +march, with the rattle of drums and a loud fanfare of +trumpets. Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes came running +out of the house, all flustered and waving his hands, and +ordered the two young people indoors. The servants +were closing the heavy wooden shutters and sliding the +bars across the doors.</p> + +<p>Jack slipped out into the lane and hailed a neighbor +who dashed past. The news was babbled in fragments +and Jack scurried back to blurt to his uncle:</p> + +<p>"An Indian raid,—the savages are within a dozen +miles of Charles Town, laying waste the plantations,—slaying +the laborers. The militia is called to arms but +they lack a leader. Colonel Stuart is sorely missed. +Captain Bonnet called another boat-load of his pirates +ashore, and they march in the van to assail the Indians. +May I go with them, Uncle Peter? Must I play the +coward and the laggard?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, John Cockrell. These mad pirates have +addled your wits. Shall I let you be scalped by these +painted fiends of Yemassees?"</p> + +<p>"Then you will volunteer in my stead," shrewdly +ventured Jack, with a glance at Dorothy.</p> + +<p>"Um-m. Duty and my official cares prevent," quoth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +the worshipful Secretary of the Colony, frowning and +pursing his lips. Dorothy smiled at this and winked at +Jack. Uncle Peter was rated a better lawyer than a +valiant man of war.</p> + +<p>"Let us stand at a window," exclaimed the girl. +"Ah, they come! My faith, but this is a brave array. +And Captain Bonnet leads them well."</p> + +<p>She had never expected to praise a pirate but there +was no denying that this lean, straight rover in the scarlet +coat and great cocked hat looked the part of a competent +and intrepid soldier. He was superbly fit for the +task in hand. Catching sight of Jack Cockrell and +Dorothy Stuart in the window, he saluted by raising the +hilt of his cutlass and his melancholy visage brightened +in a smile.</p> + +<p>Behind him tramped his men in column of fours, +matchlocks across their shoulders, bright weapons +swinging against their thighs as they sang all together +and kept step to the beat of the drums.</p> + +<div class='poem'>"But ere to Execution Bay,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The wind these bones do blow,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I'll drink an' fight what's left away,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Yo, ho, with the rum below</i>."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Behind these hardy volunteers straggled as many of +the militia company as had been able to answer the sudden +call, merchants, clerks, artisans, and vagabonds who +seemed none too eager to meet the bloodthirsty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +Yemassees. Their wives and children trailed after them +to the edge of the town, amidst tears and loud lamentations. +The contrast did not escape the eye of Mr. Peter +Arbuthnot Forbes who reluctantly admitted:</p> + +<p>"Give the devil his due, say I. These wicked +brethren of the coast go swaggering off of their own +free will, as though it were to a frolic. I will remember +it in their favor when they come to hang."</p> + +<p>A long roll of the drums and a lilting flourish by the +pirate trumpeter as a farewell to Charles Town and its +tavern and its girls, and the company passed from view. +The lane was again deserted and silent and Jack offered +to escort Dorothy Stuart to her own home. As they +loitered across an open field, he cried in a fierce flare of +rebellion:</p> + +<p>"My good uncle will drive me too far. Let him sail +for old England and leave me to find my own career. +Upon my soul, I may run away to join a pirate ship."</p> + +<p>Dorothy tried to look grave at this dreadful announcement +but a dimple showed in her cheek as she replied:</p> + +<p>"My dear Jack, you can never be braver but you +will be wiser some day. Banish such silly thoughts. +You must obey your lawful guardian."</p> + +<p>"But did you see the lads in the militia company? +Two or three of them I have whipped in fair fight. +And Uncle Peter wants to keep me tucked in a cradle."</p> + +<p>"Softly, Jack," said she, with pretty solicitude. +"Stede Bonnet has bewitched you utterly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>The stubborn youth shook his head. This day of +humiliation had been the last straw. He was ripe for +desperate adventure. It would have made him happy +and contented to be marching against the Indians with +Stede Bonnet and his cut-throats, in peril of tomahawks +and ambuscades.</p> + +<p>Small wonder that poor Jack Cockrell's notions of +right and wrong were rather confused, for he lived in +an age when might ruled blue water, when every ship +was armed and merchant seamen fought to save their +skins as well as their cargoes. English, French, Spanish, +and Dutch, they plundered each other on the flimsiest +pretexts and the pirates harried them all.</p> + +<p>Still sulky, Jack betook himself to the rectory next +morning for his daily bout with his studies. Parson +Throckmorton was puttering in the garden, a shrunken +little man who wore black small-clothes, lace at his +wrists, and a powdered wig. Opening the silver snuff-box +he almost sneezed the wig off before he chirruped:</p> + +<p>"Ye mind me of Will Shakespeare's whining schoolboy, +Master John,—creeping like snail unwillingly to +school. A treat is in store for us to-day, a signal treat! +We begin our Virgil. '<i>Arma virumque cano.</i>'"</p> + +<p>"Arms and a man? I like that much of it," glowered +the mutinous scholar, "but my uncle makes me sing a +different tune."</p> + +<p>"He accepted my advice,—that you be educated in +England," said the parson.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I may hold you responsible for this hellish +thing?" angrily declaimed Jack. "Were it not for your +white hairs——"</p> + +<p>He subsided and had the grace to apologize as they +entered the library. The tutor was an impatient old +gentleman and the pupil was so inattentive that his +knuckles were sharply rapped with a ruler. A blunder +more glaring and the ruler came down with another +whack. This was too much for Jack who jumped up, +rubbed his knuckles, and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Enough, sir. I would have you know that I all but +killed a big, ugly pirate yesterday."</p> + +<p>"So rumor informs me," rasped Parson Throckmorton, +"but you will give yourself no grand airs with me. +Construe this passage properly or I must tan those +leather breeches with a limber rod."</p> + +<p>This was too much for the insulted Jack who slammed +down the book, clapped on his hat, and tramped from +the room in high dudgeon. Such scurvy treatment as +this was fairly urging him to a life of crime on the rolling +ocean. He wandered down to the wharf and wistfully +gazed at the lawless brig, <i>Royal James</i>, which +swam at her anchorage in trim and graceful beauty. A +few men moved briskly on deck, painting the bulwarks +or polishing brass. Evidently Stede Bonnet had sent +off word to be all taut and ready to hoist sail for another +cruise.</p> + +<p>After a while the truant went homeward and manfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +confessed to the quarrel with Parson Throckmorton. +Uncle Peter Forbes was amazingly mild. There +was no gusty outbreak of temper and, in fact, he had +little to say. It was in his mind to patch up a truce +with his troublesome nephew pending their departure +for England. He even suggested that the studies be +dropped and advised Jack to go fishing in his canoe.</p> + +<p>Several days later, Captain Bonnet and his pirates +came back from their foray against the Indians. They +were a foot-sore, weary band, the wounded carried in +litters and several men missing. Their gay garments +were caked with mud, the finery all tatters, and most of +them were marked with cuts and scratches, but they +pulled themselves together and swaggered into Charles +Town as boldly as ever to the music of trumpet and +drum. Stede Bonnet carried an arm in a sling. As he +passed the Secretary's house he cheerily called out to +Jack:</p> + +<p>"Ahoy, my young comrade! 'Twill please you to +know that fair Mistress Dorothy Stuart may sleep in +peace."</p> + +<p>"Did you scatter the savages, sir?" asked Jack, running +out to shake his hand.</p> + +<p>"God bless ye, boy, we exterminated 'em."</p> + +<p>The gratitude of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes was +stronger than his dislike and he came out to thank the +captain in behalf of the citizens of Charles Town. To +his excited questions the pirate replied:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There be old buccaneers from Hispaniola in +my crew, may it please Your Excellency,—fellows who +hunted the Indians in their youth,—tracked 'em like +hounds through forest and bayou. Others served their +time with the log-wood cutters of Yucatan. They +laughed at the tricks of these Yemassees of the Carolinas."</p> + +<p>One of the militia company broke in to say to Mr. +Forbes:</p> + +<p>"Your Honor's own plantation was saved from the +torch by this doughty Captain Bonnet. It was there he +pulled the flint arrow-head from his arm and was near +bleeding to death."</p> + +<p>Mr. Peter Forbes could do no less than invite the +pirate into the house, for the wounded arm had been +rudely bandaged and was in sore need of dressing. Jack +fetched a tray of cakes and wine while his uncle bawled +at the servants who came running with soft cloths and +hot water and healing lotions. Captain Bonnet protested +that the hurt was trifling and carelessly explained:</p> + +<p>"My own ship's surgeon was spitted on a boarding-pike +in our last action at sea and I have not found me +another one. You show much skill and tenderness, sir."</p> + +<p>"The wound is deep and ragged. Hold still," commanded +Mr. Peter Forbes. "You have been a soldier, +Captain Bonnet, commended for valor on the fields of +Europe and holding the king's commission. Why not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +seek pardon and serve with the armed forces of this +province? My services in the matter are yours to command."</p> + +<p><ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Steve'">Stede</ins> Bonnet frowned and bit his lip. All he said +was:</p> + +<p>"You meddle with matters that concern you not, +my good sir. I am a man able to make my own free +choice."</p> + +<p>"Captain Bonnet does honor to the trade of piracy," +cried the admiring Jack, at which his uncle declared, +with a wrathful gesture:</p> + +<p>"I must remove this daft lad to England to be rid +of you, Stede Bonnet. You have cast a wicked spell +over him."</p> + +<p>"To England?" said the pirate, with a sympathetic +glance at the boy. "I would sooner lie in gaol."</p> + +<p>"And reap your deserts," snapped Uncle Peter.</p> + +<p>"No doubt of that," frankly agreed the pirate. +"And what thinks the lad of this sad penance?"</p> + +<p>"I hate it," was Jack's swift answer. "Will you +grant our merchant ship safe conduct, Captain Bonnet?"</p> + +<p>"What ship, boy? You have only to name her. She +will go scathless, as far as in my power."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>," replied Jack. "It +would ruin my uncle's temper beyond all mending to be +taken by pirates."</p> + +<p>"I pledge you my word," swore Stede Bonnet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +"Moreover, if trouble befall you by sea or land, Master +Cockrell, I pray you send me tidings and you will have +a friend in need."</p> + +<p>That night those who dwelt near the harbor heard +the clank of a windlass as the crew of the <i>Royal James</i> +hove the cable short, and the melodious, deep-throated +refrain of a farewell chantey floated across the quiet +water. With the flood of the tide and a landward breeze, +the brig stole out across the bar while the topsails were +sheeted home. When daylight dawned, she had vanished +in the empty reaches of the Atlantic.</p> + +<p>The brig sailed without Jack Cockrell. His shrewd +uncle saw to that. It was not by accident that a constable +of the town watch loitered in the lane by the Secretary's +house. And Uncle Peter himself was careful +not to let the lad out of his sight until the beguiling +Stede Bonnet had left his haunts in Charles Town. +Life resumed its routine next day but the boy's whole +current of thought had been changed. He was restless, +craving some fresh excitement and hoping that more +pirates might come roaring to the tavern green.</p> + +<p>He found welcome diversion when the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, +merchant trader, arrived from London after a +famous passage of thirty-two days to the westward. +Her master's orders were to make quick dispatch and +return with freight and passengers direct from Charles +Town. Jack was given no more leisure to brood over +his own misfortunes. There were many errands to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +done for Mr. Peter Forbes, besides the chests and boxes +to be packed and stoutly corded. As was the custom, +they had to supply their own furniture for the cabin in +the ship and Jack Cockrell enjoyed the frequent trips +aboard.</p> + +<p>He found much to interest him in the sedate, bearded +Captain Jonathan Wellsby of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, +in the crew of hearty British tars who feared neither man +nor devil, in the battery of nine-pounders, the stands of +boarding-pikes, and the triced hammock nettings to protect +the vessel against hand-to-hand encounters with pirates. +The voyage might be worth while, after all. +There were to be a dozen of passengers, several ladies +among them. The most distinguished was Mr. Peter +Arbuthnot Forbes, Secretary of the Provincial Council, +who was accorded the greatest respect and given the +largest cabin.</p> + +<p>It was an important event when the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +hoisted all her bunting on sailing day and +Charles Town flocked to the harbor with wistful envy of +the lucky people who were bound home to old England. +There were sad faces among those left behind to endure +the perils, hardships and loneliness of pioneers. Jack +Cockrell's heart beat high when he saw sweet Dorothy +Stuart in the throng. He tarried ashore with her until +the boatswain's pipe trilled from the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +to summon the passengers on board. Colonel +Stuart, blonde and bronzed and stalwart, escorted his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +winsome daughter and he praised Jack for his deed of +courage, telling him:</p> + +<p>"There will soon be fewer pirates for you to trounce, +I hope, my lad."</p> + +<p>"The town will be a stupid place without a visit from +the jolly rovers now and then," honestly replied Jack, +at which Colonel Stuart laughed and his daughter suggested:</p> + +<p>"With my brave knight in distant England, deliver +me from any more pirates."</p> + +<p>Jack blushed and was both happy and sad when the +dear maid took a flower from her bodice and gave it to +him as a token of remembrance. He solemnly tucked +it away in a pocket, stammered his farewells, and went +to join his uncle who waited in the yawl at the wharf. +Once on board the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, they were +swept into a bustle and confusion. Captain Jonathan +Wellsby was in haste to catch a fair wind and make his +offing before nightfall. His sailors ran to and fro, +jumping at the word, active and cheery. Stately and +slow, the high-pooped merchant trader filled away on +the larboard tack and pointed her lofty bowsprit seaward.</p> + +<p>The watches were set, ropes coiled down, and the +tackles of the cannon overhauled. The skipper paced +the after-deck, a long telescope under his arm, while the +passengers lined the rail and gazed at the rude settlement +that was slowly dropping below the horizon. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +sea was tranquil and the breeze steady. The ship was +clothed in canvas which bellied to drive her eastward +with a frothing wake. Safely she left the outer bar +astern and wallowed in the ocean swell.</p> + +<p>The afternoon sun was sinking when a sail gleamed +like a bit of cloud against the southerly sky. Captain +Wellsby held to his course and showed no uneasiness. +Soon another sail became visible and then a third, these +two smaller than the first. They might be honest merchantmen +steering in company, but the skipper consulted +with his mates and the spy-glass passed from hand +to hand. The passengers were at supper in the cuddy +and their talk and laughter came through the open skylights.</p> + +<p>Presently the boatswain piped the crew to quarters +and the men moved quietly to their battle stations, opening +the gun-ports and casting loose the lashings. The +boys fetched paper cartridges of powder in buckets from +the magazine and the gunners lighted the matches of +tow. Cutlasses were buckled on and the pikes were +scattered along the bulwarks ready to be snatched up.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to escape these three strange vessels +by beating back to Charles Town, for the <i>Plymouth +Adventure</i> made lubberly work of it when thrashing to +windward. She was a swift ship, however, before a fair +wind, and Captain Wellsby resolved to run for it, hoping +to edge away from danger if his suspicions should +be confirmed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before sunset the largest of the strange sail shifted +her course as though to set out in chase and overhaul the +deep-laden merchant trader. Captain Wellsby stood +near the tiller, his hands clasped behind him, a solid, +dependable figure of a British mariner. The passengers +were crowding around him in distressful agitation but +he calmly assured them a stern chase was a long chase +and he expected to slip away under cover of night. So +far as he was aware, no pirates, excepting Stede Bonnet, +had been recently reported in these waters.</p> + +<p>Here Mr. Peter Forbes broke in to say that the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i> had naught to fear from Captain +Bonnet who had pledged his word to let her sail unmolested. +Other passengers scoffed at the absurd notion +of trusting a pirate's oath, but the pompous Secretary +of the Council could not be cried down. He was +a canny critic of human nature and he knew an honorable +pirate when he met him.</p> + +<p>It was odd, but in a pinch like this the dapper, finicky +Councilor Peter Arbuthnot Forbes displayed an unshaken +courage as became a gentleman of his position, +while young Jack Cockrell had suddenly changed his +opinion of the fascinating trade of piracy. He had not +the slightest desire to investigate it at any closer range. +His knees were inclined to wobble and his stomach felt +qualms. His uncle twitted him as a braggart ashore who +sang a different tune afloat. The lad's grin was feeble +as he retorted that he took his pirates one at a time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>The largest vessel of the pursuit came up at a tremendous +pace, reeling beneath an extraordinary spread +of canvas, her spray-swept hull disclosing an armament +of thirty guns, the decks swarming with men. She was +no merchant ship, this was already clear, but there was +still the hope that she might be a man-of-war or a privateer. +Captain Wellsby looked in vain for her colors. +At length he saw a flag whip from the spanker gaff. +He laid down the glass with a profound sigh.</p> + +<p>The flag was black with a sinister device, a white +blotch whose outline suggested a human skull.</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby gazed again and carefully examined +the two sloops which were acting in concert with the +thirty-gun ship. It was a squadron, and the brave +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i> was hopelessly outmatched. To +fight meant a slaughter with never a chance of survival.</p> + +<p>The passengers had made no great clamor until the +menacing ship drew close enough for them to descry the +dreadful pennant which showed as a sable blot against +the evening sky. Two women fainted and others were +seized with violent hysteria. Their shrill screams were +so distressing that the skipper ordered them to be lugged +below and shut in their cabins. Mr. Peter Forbes had +plumped himself down upon a coil of hawser, as if utterly +disgusted, but he implored the captain to blaze +away at the besotted scoundrels as long as two planks +held together. The Honorable Secretary of the Council<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +had been too outspoken in his opinions of pirates to expect +kindness at their hands.</p> + +<p>The sailors also expected no quarter but they sullenly +crouched at the gun-carriages, gripping the handspikes +and blowing the matches while they waited for the word. +The pirate ship was now reaching to windward of the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, heeling over until her decks were +in full view. Upon the poop stood a man of the most +singular appearance. He was squat and burly and immensely +broad across the shoulders. What made him +grotesque was a growth of beard which swept almost to +his waist and covered his face like a hairy curtain. In +it were tied bright streamers of crimson ribbon. Evidently +this fantastic monster was proud of his whiskers +and liked to adorn them.</p> + +<p>The laced hat with a feather in it, the skirted coat of +buff and blue which flapped around his bow-legs, and +the rows of gold buttons across his chest were in slovenly +imitation of a naval uniform. But there was nothing +like naval discipline on those crowded decks where half +the crew appeared to be drunk and the rest of them +cursing each other.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonathan Wellsby smothered a groan and his +stern mouth twitched as he said to his chief mate:</p> + +<p>"God's mercy on us! 'Tis none other than the bloody +Edward Teach,—that calls himself Blackbeard! My information +was that he still cruised off the Spanish Main +and refitted his ships in the Bay of Honduras."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The madman of the sea," said the stolid mate. "A +bad day for us when he sailed to the north'ard. He kills +for the pleasure of it. Now Stede Bonnet loots such +stuff as takes his fancy and——"</p> + +<p>"He loves to fight a king's ship for the sport of it," +broke in the skipper, "but this murderer—— An unlucky +voyage for the old <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> and all +hands, Mate."</p> + +<p>One of the women who had been suffered to remain +on deck was close enough to overhear the direful news. +Her hands to heaven, she wailed:</p> + +<p>"Blackbeard! Oh, my soul, we are as good as dead, +or worse. Fight and sink him, dear captain. What +shall I do? What shall I do? If I had only minded +the dream I had the night before we sailed——"</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell sat down beside his uncle, a limp and +sorry youth for one who had offered to slay a six-foot +pirate before breakfast to please a pretty maid. With +a sickly grin he murmured:</p> + +<p>"This cockerel crowed too loud, Uncle Peter. Methinks +I share your distaste for piracy."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>HELD AS HOSTAGES TO BLACKBEARD</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>O discover the pestilent Blackbeard in Carolina +waters was like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. +Captain Wellsby had felt confident that he +could beat off the ordinary pirate craft which was apt +to be smaller than his own stout ship. And most of +these unsavory gentry were mere salt-water burglars +who had little taste for hard fighting. The master of +the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, so pious and sedate, was a +brave man to whom the thought of surrender was intolerable. +From what he knew of Blackbeard, it was useless +to try to parley for the lives of his passengers. Better +it was to answer with double-shotted guns than to +beg for mercy.</div> + +<p>The British tars, stripped to the waist, turned anxious +eyes to the skipper upon the quarter-deck while +they quaffed pannikins of rum and water and cracked +many a rough jest. They fancied death no more than +other men, but seafaring was a perilous trade and they +were toughened to its hazards. They were facing hopeless +odds but let the master shout the command and they +would send the souls of some of these pirates sizzling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +down to hell before the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> sank, a +splintered hulk, in the smoke of her own gunpowder.</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby delayed his decision a moment +longer. Something most unusual had attracted his attention. +A ball of smoke puffed from a port of Blackbeard's +ship, but the round shot splashed beyond the +bowsprit of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> instead of thudding +into her oaken side. This was a signal to heave to. +It was a courtesy both unexpected and perplexing, because +Blackbeard's habit was to let fly with all the guns +that could bear as the summons to submit. Presently +a dingy bit of cloth fluttered just beneath the black flag. +It looked like the remains of a pirate's shirt which had +once been white.</p> + +<p>"A signal for a truce?" muttered Captain Wellsby. +"A ruse, mayhap, but the rogue has no need to resort to +trickery."</p> + +<p>The two sloops of Blackbeard's squadron, spreading +tall, square topsails, came driving down to windward in +readiness to fire their bow-chasers and form in line of +battle. The passengers of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, +snatching at the chance of safety, implored the skipper +to send his men away from the guns lest a rash shot +might be their ruin. They prayed him to respect the +precious flag of truce and to ascertain the meaning of it. +Mystified and wavering in his purpose, he told the mates +to back the main-yard and heave the ship to.</p> + +<p>Upon his own deck Blackbeard was stamping to and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +fro, bellowing at his crew while he flourished a broadsword +by way of emphasis. The hapless company of +the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> shivered at the very sight of +him and yet there was something almost ludicrous in the +antics of this atrocious pirate, as though he were play-acting +upon the stage of a theatre. He had tucked up +the tails of his military coat because the wind whipped +them about his bandy legs and made him stumble. The +flowing whiskers also proved bothersome, wherefore he +looped them back over his ears by means of the bows +of crimson ribbon. This seemed to be his personal +fashion of clearing for action.</p> + +<p>"There be pirates and pirates," critically observed +Mr. Peter Forbes as he stared at the unpleasant Blackbeard. +"This is a filthy beast, Jack, and he was badly +brought up. He has no manners whatever."</p> + +<p>"Parson Throckmorton would take him for the devil +himself," gloomily answered the lad.</p> + +<p>And now they saw Blackbeard raise a speaking-trumpet +to his lips and heard the hoarse voice come down the +wind with this message:</p> + +<p>"The ship ahoy! Steady as ye be, blast your eyes, +or I'll lay aboard and butcher all hands."</p> + +<p>He turned and yelled commands to the two sloops +which now rolled within pistol-shot. In helter-skelter +style but with great speed, one boat after another was +lowered away and filled with armed pirates. They +rowed toward the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> and there were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +enough of them to carry her by boarding. In addition +to this, she was directly under the guns of Blackbeard's +powerful ship. One valorous young gentleman passenger +whipped out a rapier and swore to perish with +his face to the foe, but Captain Wellsby kicked him into +the cabin and fastened the scuttle. This was no time +for dramatics.</p> + +<p>"It looks that the old ruffian comes on a peaceful +errand," said the skipper, by way of comfort. But the +hysterical ladies below decks redoubled their screams +and one substantial merchant of Charles Town scrambled +down to hide himself among them. Mr. Peter +Arbuthnot Forbes folded his arms and there was no +sign of weakness in his pink countenance. His dignity +still sustained him.</p> + +<p>As agile as monkeys, the mob of pirates poured over +the bulwark, slashing through the hammock nettings, +and swept forward in a compact mass, driving Captain +Wellsby's seamen before them and penning them in the +forecastle. Having cleared the waist of the ship, they +loitered there until a few of them discovered the galley +and pantry. They swept the shelves and lockers bare +of food like a pack of famished wolves. Jack Cockrell +looked at them from the poop and perceived that they +were a gaunt, ragged lot. The skins of some were yellow +like parchment, and fits of trembling overtook them. +Something more than dissipation ailed them.</p> + +<p>With a body-guard of the sturdiest men, Blackbeard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +clambered up the poop ladder and, with wicked oaths, +told the skipper to stand forth. Clean and trig and +carefully dressed, Captain Jonathan Wellsby confronted +these savage, unwashed pirates and calmly demanded +to know their errand. It was plain to read +that Blackbeard thought himself an imposing figure. +With a smirk and a grimace he bowed clumsily to a +woman on deck who had refused to desert her husband. +He growled like a bear at Captain Wellsby and prodded +the poor man with his cutlass as he thundered:</p> + +<p>"You tried my patience, shipmaster, with your +cracking on sail. A little more and I'd ha' slit your +throat. Blood an' wounds, would ye dare to vex Blackbeard?"</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby faced him with unshaken composure +and returned in a strong voice:</p> + +<p>"I beg no favors for myself but these helpless people, +women amongst them, came on board with my assurance +of safety. They have friends and kinsmen in Charles +Town who will ransom them in gold."</p> + +<p>Blackbeard's mien was a shade less ferocious as he +cried:</p> + +<p>"Gold? Can it cool a fever or heal a festering sore? +A score of my men are down and the others are tottering +ghosts. Medicines I must have. A foul plague on +those ports of the Spanish Main which laid my fine lads +by the heels."</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell, who had retreated to the taffrail, decided<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +that this unkempt pirate was not so absurd as he +appeared. There was the strength of a giant in those +hulking shoulders and in the long arms which bulged the +coat-sleeves, and the man moved with a quickness which +made that clumsy air deceptive. The beard masked his +features but the eye was keen and roving, and he had a +trick of baring his teeth in a nasty snarl. He uttered +no more threats, however, and seemed to be anxiously +awaiting the reply of Captain Wellsby, who said:</p> + +<p>"The few medicines and simples in my chest will not +suffice your need. Your ships are rotten with the +Spanish fever."</p> + +<p>"A ransom, shipmaster?" exclaimed the pirate. +"'Twas in my mind when I flew a white flag for parley. +I will hold some of your fine passengers as hostages +while the others go in to rake Charles Town for medicines +to fetch back to my fleet."</p> + +<p>"You will send my ship in?" asked the skipper.</p> + +<p>"No! This <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> is my good prize +and I will overhaul the cargo and sink her at my leisure. +My ship will tack in to Charles Town bar. Then let the +messengers go in the long-boat to find the store of medicines. +Harkee, shipmaster,—two days, no longer, for +their return! Failing this, the hostages feed the fishes. +Such sport 'ud liven the hearts of my doleful seamen."</p> + +<p>It was a shameful bargain, thus to submit to a pirate's +whim, but the wretched ship's company hailed it as a +glad surprise. They had stood in the shadow of death<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +and this was a respite and a chance of salvation. Captain +Wellsby was heart-sick with humiliation but it was +not for him to take into his hands the fate of all these +others. Sadly he nodded assent. Jack Cockrell nudged +his uncle and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Why doesn't he sail in with his three ships and take +what he likes? The town lies helpless against such a +force as this."</p> + +<p>"Ssh-h, be silent," was the warning. "He is a wary +bird of prey and he fears a trap. He dare not attack +the port, since he lacks knowledge of its defenses."</p> + +<p>Jack's cheek was rosy again and his knees had ceased +to tremble. There was no immediate prospect of walking +the plank. To be captured by Blackbeard was a +finer adventure than strutting arm-in-arm with Captain +Stede Bonnet. It was mournful, indeed, that Captain +Wellsby should have to lose his ship but 'tis an ill wind +that blows nobody good and the voyage to England, +which Jack had loathed from the bottom of his heart, +was indefinitely postponed. Such an experience as this +was apt to discourage Uncle Peter Forbes from trying +it again.</p> + +<p>There were sundry chicken-hearted passengers anxious +to curry favor with Blackbeard, who gabbled when +they should have held their tongues, and in this manner +he learned that he had bagged the honorable Secretary +of the Provincial Council. The bewhiskered pirate +slapped his thighs and roared with glee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Damme, but he looks it! Alack that my sorry need +of medicines compels me to give quarter! Would I +might swing this fat Secretary from a topsail yard! +And a rogue of a lawyer to boot! He tempts me——"</p> + +<p>"I demand the courtesy due a hostage," exclaimed +Mr. Peter Forbes.</p> + +<p>"Ho, ho, you shall be my lackey,—the chief messenger," +laughed Blackbeard, showing his yellow teeth. +"Hat in hand, begging medicines for me."</p> + +<p>The honorable Secretary was near apoplexy. He +could only sputter and cough. He was to be sent as +an errand boy to the people of Charles Town, at the +brutal behest of this unspeakable knave, but refusal +meant death and there were his fellow captives to consider. +He thought of his nephew and was about to +plead that Jack be sent along with him when Blackbeard +demanded:</p> + +<p>"What of the boy? He takes my eye. No pursy +swine of a lawyer could sire a lad of his brawn and +inches."</p> + +<p>"I am Master Cockrell," Jack answered for himself, +"and I would have you more courteous to my worthy +uncle."</p> + +<p>It was a speech so bold that the scourge of the Spanish +Main tugged at his whiskers with an air of comical +perplexity. The headstrong Jack was keen enough to +note that he had made an impression and he rashly +added:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis not long since I knocked a pirate on the head +for incivility."</p> + +<p>Mr. Peter Forbes gazed aghast, with slackened jaw, +expecting to see his mad nephew cut down by the sweep +of a broadsword, but Blackbeard merely grinned and +slapped the lad half-way across the deck with a buffet of +his open hand. Dizzily Jack picked himself up and was +furiously scolded by his uncle. Their lives hung by a +hair and this was no time to play the fool. For once, +however, Jack was the wiser of the two. In an amiable +humor Blackbeard exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"And so this strapping young jackanapes knocks +pirates on the head! There be lazy dogs among my +men that well deserve it. You shall stay aboard, Master +Cockrell, whilst the juicy lubber of a lawyer +voyages into Charles Town. He may sweat an' strive +the more if I hold you as his security. Zounds, I'll +make a gentleman rover of ye, Jack, for I like your +mettle."</p> + +<p>It was futile for the unhappy uncle to argue the matter. +He could only obey the tyrant's pleasure and hope +for a speedy return and the release of the terrified passengers. +The <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> was ordered to +haul her course to the westward and jog under easy sail +toward the Charles Town bar. Blackbeard was rowed +off to his own ship, the <i>Revenge</i>, leaving his sailing-master +and a prize crew. These amused themselves by +dragging the weeping women on deck and robbing them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +of their jewels and money, but no worse violence was +offered. Middle-aged matrons and elderly spinsters, +they were neither young nor fair enough to be stolen as +pirates' brides.</p> + +<p>The <i>Revenge</i> and the two sloops hovered within sight +of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> and their sails gleamed +phantom-like in the darkness. There was little sleep +aboard the captured merchant trader. Some of the +pirates amused themselves with hauling chests and boxes +out of the cabins and spilling the contents about the deck +in riotous disorder. One sprightly outlaw arrayed himself +in a silken petticoat and flowered bodice and paraded +as a languishing lady with false curls until the +others pelted him with broken bottles and tar buckets. +By the flare of torches they ransacked the ship for provisions, +cordage, canvas, and heaped them ready to be +dumped into boats.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell looked on until he was too drowsy to +stay awake and fell asleep on deck, his head pillowed on +his arm. Through the night the watches were changed +to the harsh summons of the pirate sailing-master or his +mate. Once Jack awoke when a seaman staggered into +the moonlight with blood running down his face. He +was not likely to be caught napping on watch again.</p> + +<p>At dawn the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> was astir and the +<i>Revenge</i> ran close aboard to watch Mr. Peter Arbuthnot +Forbes and two prosperous merchants of Charles +Town bundled into the long-boat. Blackbeard shouted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +bloody threats through his trumpet, reminding them +that he would allow no more than two days' grace for +their errand ashore. Uncle Peter was deeply affected +as he embraced his nephew and kissed him on the cheek. +Jack's eyes were wet and he faltered, with unsteady +voice:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, sir, for all the trouble I have made you. +Never did I expect a parting like this."</p> + +<p>"A barbarous coast, Jack, and a hard road to old England," +smiled the Secretary of the Council. "Have a +stout heart. By God's grace I shall soon deliver you +from these sea vermin."</p> + +<p>The boy watched the long-boat hoist sail with a grizzled, +scarred old boatswain from the <i>Revenge</i> at the +tiller. It drove for the blue fairway of the channel between +the frothing shoals of the bar and made brave +headway for the harbor. Then the ships stood out to +sea to go clear of a lee shore and the captives of the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i> endured the harrowing suspense +with such courage as they could muster. Should any +accident delay the return of the long-boat beyond two +days, even head winds or foul weather, or if there was +lack of medicines in the town, they were doomed to +perish.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell endured it with less anguish than the +other wretched hostages. He had the sublime confidence +of youth in its own destiny and he had found a +chum in a boyish pirate named Joseph Hawkridge who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +said he had sailed out of London as an apprentice seaman +in a ketch bound to Jamaica. He had been taken +out of his ship by Blackbeard, somewhere off the Azores, +and compelled to enlist or walk the plank. At first he +was made cook's scullion but because he was well-grown +and active, the chief gunner had taken him over as a +powder boy.</p> + +<p>This Joe Hawkridge was a waif of the London slums, +hard and wise beyond his years, who had been starved +and abused ever since he could remember. He had fled +from cruel taskmasters ashore to endure the slavery of +the sea and to be kidnapped into piracy was no worse +than other things he had suffered. A gangling lad, with +a grin on his homely face, he had certain instincts of +manliness, of decent conduct, although he had known +only men whose souls were black with sin. Heaven +knows where he learned these cleaner aspirations. +They were like the reflection of a star in a muddy +pool.</p> + +<p>It was easy for Jack Cockrell to win his confidence. +Few of his shipmates spoke kindly or showed pity for +him. And their youth drew them together. Jack's +motive was largely curiosity as soon as he discovered +that here was one of Blackbeard's crew ready to confide +in him. The two lads chatted in sheltered corners of the +deck, between watches, or met more freely in the night +hours. Jack shuddered at some of the tales that were +told him but he harkened breathless and asked for more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, this Blackbeard is the very wickedest pirate +that ever sailed," said Joe Hawkridge in the most matter-of-fact +tones. "You have found him merciful because +he fears a mortal sickness will sweep through his +ships."</p> + +<p>"You have curdled my blood enough for now," admitted +Jack. "Tell me this. What do they say of +Captain Stede Bonnet? He chances to be a friend of +mine."</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge ceased to grin. He was startled and +impressed. Real gentlemen like this young Cockrell +always told the truth. Making certain that they could +not be overheard, Joe whispered:</p> + +<p>"What news of Stede Bonnet? You've seen him? +When? Did he cruise to the north'ard? Has he been +seen off Charles Town?"</p> + +<p>"He came ashore not long ago, and invited me to dinner +at the tavern with him," bragged Jack. "And he +coaxed me to sign in his ship."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you'd catch his eye, Cockrell, but listen! What +ship had he, and how many men? God strike me, but +I'll not tattle it. I'm true as steel to Stede Bonnet. +If you love me, don't breathe it here."</p> + +<p>"There is no love lost betwixt him and Blackbeard?" +excitedly queried Jack.</p> + +<p>"Mortal foes they be, if you ask Stede Bonnet."</p> + +<p>Feeling sure he could trust this young Hawkridge, +Jack informed him:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Stede Bonnet flies his pennant in a fine brig, the +<i>Royal James</i>, with seventy lusty rovers. But what +about him, Joe? Why does he hate this foul ogre of a +Blackbeard? Did they ever sail together?"</p> + +<p>"'Twas in the Bay of Honduras. Captain Bonnet +was a green hand at the trade but zealous to win renown +at piratin'. And so he made compact with Blackbeard, +to sail as partners. There was Stede Bonnet with a fine +ship and his own picked crew. By treachery Blackbeard +stole the vessel from him. Bonnet and his men +were left to shift for 'emselves in a rotten old hulk that +was like to founder in a breeze o' wind."</p> + +<p>"But they stayed afloat and took them a good ship," +proudly exclaimed Jack, with a personal interest in the +venture.</p> + +<p>"True, by what you say. D'ye see the <i>Revenge</i> +yonder, Blackbeard's tall cruiser? The very ship he +filched from Stede Bonnet by dirty stratagem and +broken oaths!"</p> + +<p>"Then the powder will burn when next they meet?"</p> + +<p>"As long as there's a shot in the locker, Jack. And +Blackbeard's men are ripe for mutiny. Let 'em once +sight Stede Bonnet's topsails and——"</p> + +<p>A gunner's mate broke into this interview with a cat-o'-nine-tails +and flogged Joe Hawkridge forward to +duty. He ducked and fled with a farewell grin at the +nephew of the Secretary of the Council. Now all this +was diverting enough to keep Jack from bemoaning his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +fate, but the other passengers counted the hours one by +one and their hearts began to drum against their ribs. +They scanned the sea and the harbor bar with aching +eyes, for the two days were well-nigh spent and there +was never a sign of the long-boat and the messengers +with the ransom of medicines which should avert the +sentence of death.</p> + +<p>Sunrise of the second day brought them no comfort. +The sea was gray and the sky leaden, without the slightest +stir of wind. The drifting vessels rolled in a swell +that heaved as smooth as oil. It was a calm which presaged +violent weather. Against her masts the yards of +the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> banged with a sound like distant +thunder and the idle canvas slatted to the thump of +blocks and the thin wail of chafing cordage.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonathan Wellsby was permitted the freedom +of the poop by Blackbeard's sailing-master who +seemed a sober and competent officer. They were seen +to confer earnestly, as though the safety of the ship were +uppermost in their minds. Soon the pirates of the prize +crew were ordered to stow and secure all light sail and +pass extra lashings about the boats and batten the +hatches. They worked slowly, some of them shaking +with fever, nor could kicks and curses and the sting of +the whistling cat make them turn to smartly. The sailing-master +signaled the <i>Revenge</i> to send off more hands +but Blackbeard was either drunk or in one of his crack-brained +moods. With a laugh he pulled a brace of pistols<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +from his sash and blazed away at the <i>Plymouth +Adventure.</i></p> + +<p>The two sloops of the pirate squadron had sagged +down to leeward during the night and were trying to +work back to their stations when the dead calm intervened. +Their skippers had sense enough to read the +weather signs and had begun to take in canvas. On +board of the <i>Revenge</i>, however, there was aimless confusion, +the mates making some attempt to prepare the +ship for a heavy blow while Blackbeard defied the elements. +His idea of arousing his men was to try potshots +with his pistols as they crept out on the swaying +spars.</p> + +<p>It was quite apparent that the sailing-master was +sorely needed in the <i>Revenge</i>, if order was to be brought +out of this chaos, but he received no orders to quit the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. He was a proper seaman, Ned +Rackham by name, who had deserted from the Royal +Navy, after being flogged and keel-hauled for some trifling +offense. Rumor had it that he was able to enforce +respect from Blackbeard and would stand none of his +infernal nonsense.</p> + +<p>"In this autumn season we may catch a storm from +the West Indies, Mr. Rackham," said Captain Wellsby. +"The sea has a greasy look and this heavy ground swell +is a portent."</p> + +<p>"The feel of it is in the air, shipmaster. There fell +an evil calm like this come two year ago when I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +wrecked in a ship-of-the-line within sight of Havana. +Four hundred men sank with her."</p> + +<p>"If my sailors were not penned in the fo'castle——" +suggested the merchant skipper.</p> + +<p>"None o' that," was the stern retort. "This ship is +a prize to Blackbeard and so she stays, and you will sink +or swim with her."</p> + +<p>The morning wore on and the two days of grace had +passed for those doleful hostages in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. +They beheld the black flag hoisted to the rigging +of the <i>Revenge</i> as a signal of tragic import, but the +bandy-legged monster with the festooned whiskers was +not to disport himself with this wanton butchery. The +sky had closed darkly around the becalmed ships, in +sodden clouds which were suddenly obscured by mist +and rain while the wind sighed in fitful gusts. It steadied +into the southward and swiftly increased in force +until the sea was whipped into foam and scud.</p> + +<p>Staunch and well-found, the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +went reeling off across the spray-swept leagues of water, +showing only her reefed topsails and courses. The two +pirate sloops vanished beyond the curtain of mist. +When last seen, one of them was dismasted and the +other was laboring in grave peril. The <i>Revenge</i> loomed +as a spectral shape while Blackbeard was endeavoring to +get her running free in pursuit of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. +But slovenly, reckless seamanship had caught him +unready. His sails were blowing to ribbons, ropes fly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>ing +at loose ends, and it was with great difficulty that the +vessel could be made to mind her tiller.</p> + +<p>Already the sea was rising in crested combers which +broke with the noise of thunder and the fury of the wind +was insensate. Slowly the struggling <i>Revenge</i> dropped +astern, yawing wildly, rolling her bulwarks under, splintered +spars dangling from the caps. She was a crippled +ship which would be lucky to see port again. It was to +be inferred that Blackbeard had ceased to cut his mirthful +capers on the poop and that he would have given +bushels of doubloons to regain his sailing-master and +men.</p> + +<p>In the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> things were in far better +plight, even with the feeble, short-handed prize crew. +Prudently snugged down in ample time, with extra +hands at the steering tackles, they let her drive. She +would perhaps wear clear of the coast and there was +hope of survival unless the tempest should fairly wrench +her strong timbers asunder.</p> + +<p>Lashed to the weather rigging, Captain Jonathan +Wellsby wiped the brine from his eyes and waved his +arm at the helmsman, now to ease her a little, again to +haul up and thus thwart some ravening sea which threatened +to stamp his ship under. Sailing-Master Ned +Rackham was content to let the skipper con his own vessel +in this great emergency.</p> + +<p>The mind of Captain Wellsby was very active and he +pondered on something else than winning through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +storm. He had been helpless while under the guns of +the <i>Revenge</i>, with the two sloops in easy call. Now the +situation was vastly different. He had been delivered +out of Blackbeard's clutches. And in the forecastle +were thirty British seamen with hearts of oak, raging to +be loosed with weapons in their hands. Peering into +the gray smother of sea and sky, Captain Jonathan +Wellsby licked his lips hungrily as he said to himself:</p> + +<p>"Not now, but if the storm abates and we float +through the night, these lousy picaroons shall dance to +another tune."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE CAPTIVE SEAMEN IN THE FORECASTLE</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>J</big>ACK COCKRELL was seasick. This was enough +to spoil any adventure. Curled up under a boat, +the spray pelted him and the wild motion of the +ship sloshed him back and forth. He took no interest +even in piracy. Joe Hawkridge, tough as whip-cord +and seasoned to all kinds of weather, came clawing his +way aft while the water streamed from his thin shirt and +ragged breeches. The pirates of the prize crew had +sought shelter wherever they could find it. The waist +of the ship was flooded with breaking seas. A few of +the larboard watch were huddled forward, close to the +lofty forecastle where they were stationed as sentries +over the imprisoned sailors of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>.</div> + +<p>The commotion of the wind shrieking in the rigging +and the horrid crash of the toppling combers were +enough to convince a landlubber that the vessel was +doomed to founder. But Joe Hawkridge clapped +young Jack an affectionate clout on the ear and bawled +at him:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"For his work he's never loth,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">An' a-pleasurin' he'll go,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tho' certain sure to be popt off;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Yo, ho, with the rum below!</i>"</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></div> + +<p>Jack managed to fetch a sickly smile of greeting, but +had nothing to say. Joe snuggled down beside him and +explained:</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't dare sing that song if Blackbeard's bullies +could hear me. 'Tis known as Stede Bonnet's ditty, +for a fight or a frolic."</p> + +<p>"By Harry, they can roll it out. My blood tingled +when they chorused it through Charles Town," said +Jack, with signs of animation and a sparkle in his eye. +"Tell me truly, Joe. What about this pirate sailing-master, +Ned Rackham? He seems a different sort from +your other drunken wretches. He is more like one of +Captain Bonnet's choosing."</p> + +<p>"Gulled you, has he?" cried Joe. "I was afeard of +that. And he's getting on the blind side of your skipper. +This Cap'n Jonathan Wellsby is brave enough +and a rare seaman, but he ne'er dealt with a smooth +rogue like Ned Rackham. He stays sober to plot for +his own advantage. He will serve Blackbeard only till +he can trip him by the heels. Now listen well, Jack, seasick +though ye be. You will have to warn your skipper, +Captain Wellsby."</p> + +<p>"Warn him of what? My poor head is so addled +that I can fathom no plots. How can Ned Rackham +do us mischief while this infernal gale blows? He toils +with might and main for the safety of the ship."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you dunce, and let a lull come," scornfully exclaimed +the boyish pirate. "What then? A fine ship<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +this, and well gunned. She would make a smackin' +cruiser for Ned Rackham, eh? He hoists the Jolly +Roger on his own account and laughs at Blackbeard."</p> + +<p>"Take our ship for his own?" faltered Jack, his wits +confused. "I never thought of that. Why, that means +getting rid of us, of the passengers and crew."</p> + +<p>Joe passed a hand across his throat with a grimace +that said more than words.</p> + +<p>"He has the ship's company disarmed and helpless, +Jack. And pirates a-plenty to work her till he recruits +a stronger force. All hands of 'em have a surfeit of +Blackbeard's bloody whims an' didoes."</p> + +<p>"And Captain Wellsby will be caught off his guard?" +said Jack, shivering at the aspect of this new terror.</p> + +<p>"Can he do aught to prevent, unless he is bold enough +to forestall it?" answered the shrewd young sea +waif. "Better die fighting than be slain like squealin' +rats."</p> + +<p>"Recapture the ship ere Ned Rackham casts the +dice," said Jack. "But it means playing the hazard in +the midst of this storm. How can it be done? A forlorn +venture. It can but fail."</p> + +<p>"You are as good as dead if you don't," was Joe's +sensible verdict.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell forgot his wretched qualms of mind +and body. The trumpet call of duty invigorated him. +He was no longer a useless lump. The color returned +to his cheek as he crawled from under the boat and shak<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>ily +hauled himself to his feet. Joe Hawkridge nodded +approval and exhorted:</p> + +<p>"A stiff upper lip, my gallant young gentleman. +Steady she goes, an' not too hasty. Ned Rackham is +as sharp as a whetted sword. Ware ye, boy, lest he pick +up the scent. Fetch me word, here, beneath this jolly-boat."</p> + +<p>Jack stole away, staggering along the high poop deck +until he could cling to the life-line stretched along the +roof of the great cabin. There he slumped down and +feigned helplessness, banged against the bulwark as a +dripping heap of misery or kicked aside by the pirates +of the watch as they were relieved at the steering tackles. +From half-closed eyes he watched Ned Rackham, a +vigilant, dominant figure in a tarred jacket and quilted +breeches and long sea-boots. Now and again he cupped +his hands and yelled in the ear of Captain Wellsby +whose beard was gray with brine.</p> + +<p>Jack saw that it was hopeless to get a private word +with the skipper on deck. The clamor of the storm was +too deafening. The one chance was to intercept him in +the cabin when he went below for food and drink. Jack +dragged himself to the after hatchway which was +shoved open a trifle to admit air, and squeezed himself +through. Before he tumbled down the steep staircase he +turned to glance at Captain Wellsby. Unseen by Ned +Rackham, the boy raised his hand in a furtive, beckoning +gesture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>The pirates had taken the main room of the after-house +for their own use, driving the passengers and +ship's officers into the small cabins or staterooms. The +air was foul below, reeking of the bilges, and the main +room was incredibly filthy. The pirates ate from dirty +dishes, they had scattered food about, and they kicked +off their boots to sleep on the floor like pigs in a +sty.</p> + +<p>Several of them were seated at the long table, bottle +and mug in hand, and the gloomy place was poorly +lighted by a swinging whale-oil lamp. Jack Cockrell +crept unnoticed into a corner and was giddy and almost +helpless with nausea. It seemed ages before Captain +Wellsby's legs appeared in the hatchway and he came +down into the cabin, bringing a shower of spray with +him. His kindly face was haggard and sad and he tottered +from sheer weariness. Passing through to his own +room, a scurvy pirate hurled refuse food at him, with a +silly laugh, and others insulted him with the foulest epithets.</p> + +<p>He paid them no heed and they returned to their own +amusements. Jack Cockrell aroused himself to stumble +after the skipper who halted to grasp the lad by the +shoulder and shove him headlong into the little room. +The door was quickly bolted behind them. A lurch of +the vessel flung Jack into the bunk but he managed to +sit up, holding his head in his hands, while he feebly +implored:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you note me wave my hand, sir, when I came +below?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I followed as soon as I could," answered +the master of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. "There was +the hint of secrecy in your signal, Jack. What's in the +wind?"</p> + +<p>"I am the only passenger to win the confidence of +one of Blackbeard's crew," explained the lad. "This +Joe Hawkridge is true to us, I'll swear it. He is a +pressed man, hating his masters. He bids me tell you +that Ned Rackham will seize the ship for his own as soon +as ever the wind goes down."</p> + +<p>"Um-m, is he as bold as that?" grunted the skipper, +rubbing his nose with an air of rueful surprise. "No +honor among thieves, Jack. I thought him loyal to +Blackbeard. I have considered attempting something +of my own when the weather permits but this news +quickens me. This young imp o' Satan that ye call Joe,—he +will side with us in a pinch?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, sir. And he knows this Ned Rackham well. +There has been talk among the pirates of rising against +Blackbeard to follow the fortunes of Sailing-Master +Rackham. Here is the ship, as Joe says."</p> + +<p>"It has a plausible sound," said Captain Wellsby. +"My intention was to wait, but I shall have to strike +first."</p> + +<p>"Can we fight in this storm, sir, even if we manage to +release our sailors?" asked Jack, very dismally.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not what we can, but what we must do," growled +the stubborn British mariner. "The shame of striking +my colors rankles like a wound. God helping me, we +shall wipe out that stain if we drown in a sinking ship. +I talk to you as a man, Master Cockrell, for such you +have proven yourself. And who else is there to serve +me in this adventure?"</p> + +<p>"To set our sailors free, you mean, sir?" eagerly exclaimed +Jack. "I took thought of that. There is nobody +but me, neither your mates nor the passengers, +who can pass among the pirates without suspicion. The +knaves have humored me, hearing the tale of the pirate +I knocked on the head and my braggart remark to +Blackbeard. They have seen me about the decks with +Joe Hawkridge as my boon comrade. 'Tis their fancy +that I am likely to enlist."</p> + +<p>"Well said, Jack," was the skipper's compliment. +"Yes, you might make your way for'ard without interference,—but +the fo'castle hatches are stoutly guarded. +Again, should my brave fellows find exit, they are weaponless, +unready. Moreover, they have been crammed +in that dark hole, drenched by the sea, cruelly bruised +by the tossing of the ship, and weakened for lack of food +and air."</p> + +<p>"Granted, sir," sighed Jack. "But if some message +could be smuggled in to forewarn them of the enterprise,—would +that brace 'em to the assault?"</p> + +<p>"Will ye try it, Jack?" asked the skipper, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +note of appeal in his hearty voice. "I know not where +else to turn. You take your life in your hands but——"</p> + +<p>The shipmaster broke off with a grim smile. It was +absurd to prate of life or death in such a strait as this. +The boy reflected before he said:</p> + +<p>"If—if I fail, sir, Joe Hawkridge will try to pass a +message in to the men. You can depend on 't."</p> + +<p>"A last resort, Jack. You vouch for him but I trust +you far sooner. He has kept sorry company."</p> + +<p>"When is the best hour, Captain Wellsby?"</p> + +<p>"Just before nightfall when the watches will be +changing. I dare not delay it longer than that. In +darkness, my lads will be unable to find the foe and +strike hard and quick. Nor can they rush to lay hold +of the only weapons in their reach,—the pikes in the +racks beside the masts. Not a pistol or cutlass amongst +'em, and they must fight with these wicked dogs of pirates +who think naught of killing men."</p> + +<p>"Let your lusty sailors once get clear, sir," stoutly +declared Jack Cockrell, "and they will play a merry +game with those long pikes. Then I am to slip the +message written by your hand on a bit of paper?"</p> + +<p>"That's it! I will command them to pound against +the scuttle, three raps, for a signal of response, and you +must listen for it. Then it is for them to stand ready, +on the chance that you can slip the bar of the hatch or +the bolts on the door."</p> + +<p>"But if they have to come out singly, sir, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +sentries are ready-witted, why, your men may be cut +down or pistoled in their tracks."</p> + +<p>"I am so aware," said Captain Wellsby, his honest +features glum, "but we cannot change the odds."</p> + +<p>He found an ink-horn and quill and laboriously wrote +a few lines on a leaf torn from the back of a sea-stained +log-book. Jack tucked it carefully away and thus they +parted company, perhaps to meet no more in life. +Through the waning afternoon, Jack stowed himself on +deck and held long converse with Joe Hawkridge when +they met between the keel-chocks of the jolly-boat. Because +he shared not the skipper's feeling of distrust, +Jack sought the active aid of his chum of a pirate lad. +It was agreed that they should endeavor to reach the +forecastle together when the ship's bell tolled the hour +of beginning the first night watch.</p> + +<p>Joe hoped he might decoy or divert the sentries. If +not, he had another scheme or two. A gunner's mate of +the prize crew had sent him to overhaul the lashings of +the battery of nine-pounders which were ranged along +the waist. With several other hands Joe had made all +secure, because the guns were apt to get adrift in such +weather as this and plunge to and fro across the deck +like maddened beasts. Now Joe Hawkridge had lingered, +on pretext of making sure that one forward gun +could be fired, if needs be, as a distress signal should the +ship open her seams or strike upon a shoal.</p> + +<p>He had satisfied himself that the tompion, or wooden<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +plug which sealed the muzzle was tight, and that no +water had leaked through the wrapping of tarred canvas +which protected the touch-hole. Before replacing them, +he had made two or three trips to the deck-house amidships +in which was the carpenter's room. Each time he +tucked inside his shirt as many forged iron spikes, bolts, +and what not as he could safely carry.</p> + +<p>Unobserved, he shoved this junk down the throat of +the nine-pounder and wadded it fast with handfuls of +oakum. He worked coolly, without haste, as agile as a +monkey when the ship careened and the sea spurted +through the cracks of the gun-ports. Well pleased with +his task, he said to himself, with that grin which no peril +could obliterate:</p> + +<p>"God alone knows how I can strike fire to a match +and keep it alight, but the sky shows signs of easier +weather."</p> + +<p>The fury of the storm had, indeed, diminished. It +might be a respite before the wind hauled into another +quarter and renewed its ferocious violence, but the air +was no longer thick with the whirling smother of foam +and spray and the straining topmasts had ceased to bend +like whips. The ship was gallantly easing herself of the +waves which broke aboard and the rearing billows astern +were not threatening to stamp her under.</p> + +<p>It lacked almost an hour of nightfall when Jack Cockrell +crept along the poop and halted to lean against the +timbered railing by the mizzen shrouds. All he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +think of was that Ned Rackham might seize upon this +sudden abatement of the gale to hasten his own wicked +conspiracy and so ruin the plan to restore the <i>Plymouth +Adventure</i> to her own lawful company. This menace +had occurred to Captain Jonathan Wellsby who stood +tense and rigid at the sailing-master's elbow, watching +him from the tail of his eye.</p> + +<p>Relief o'erspread the skipper's worn features when he +espied Jack Cockrell who stood as if waiting for orders. +A nod, a meaning glance, and they understood each +other. Striving to appear unconcerned, Jack moved toward +the forward part of the ship. He was aquiver +with excitement, and his breath was quick and small, but +the sense of fear had left him. Captain Wellsby had +called him a man and, by God's sweet grace, he would so +acquit himself.</p> + +<p>The pirates were swarming out of the cabin to taste +the clean air and limber their cramped muscles. The +ship still wallowed as she ran before the wind and it was +breakneck work to clamber about. From the topsail +yards fluttered mere ribbons of canvas where the reefed +sails had bellied. Ned Rackham shouted for the watch +to lay aloft and cut the remnants clear and bend new +cloths to keep her from broaching to.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell's heart leaped for joy. At least a +dozen of the most active pirates would have to obey this +order. This would remove them from the deck for a +precious interval of time. He slouched aimlessly nearer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +the forecastle, stretching his neck to gaze up at the pirates +as they footed the ratlines and squirmed over the +clumsy tops. Joe Hawkridge joined him, as if by +chance, and they wandered to the lee side of the forecastle. +There they were screened from the sight of the +sentries.</p> + +<p>The wooden shutters of the little windows had been +spiked fast on the outside and Jack was at his wits' end +to find by what means he might slip the fateful message +to the captive seamen. He dared not climb upon the +roof and seek for a crack in a hatchway. This would +make him too conspicuous.</p> + +<p>Cautiously he stole around the massive structure and +was all but washed overboard when he gained the windward +side where the water broke in hissing cataracts. +So great had been its force during the height of the +storm, that one of the shutters had been splintered and +almost crushed in. Clutching the bit of paper which +was tightly rolled and wrapped in a square of oiled +linen, Jack pushed it through a ragged crevice in the +shutter.</p> + +<p>It was gravely doubtful whether the men would discover +the message in the gloom of their prison. It +might fall to the floor and be trampled unperceived. +And yet Jack Cockrell could not make himself believe +that deliverance would be thwarted. He said a prayer +and waited with his ear against the wall of the forecastle. +There he leaned through an agonized eternity as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +slow moments passed. It was like the ordeal of a condemned +man who hopes that a blessed reprieve may +save him, in the last hour, from the black cap and the +noose.</p> + +<p>Up aloft the pirate seamen were slashing the torn +canvas with their dirks and casting loose the gaskets. +Presently they began to come down to the deck, one by +one. Some whispered word must have passed amongst +them, because they drifted aft as by a common impulse +although it was not yet the hour to change the watch. +Their gunner's mate, a gigantic mulatto with a broken +nose, went to the poop when Ned Rackham crooked his +finger and these two stood aside, beyond earshot of Captain +Wellsby, while they conferred with heads together.</p> + +<p>"They will strike first," Jack whispered to himself.</p> + +<p>The misty daylight had not darkened. The decks +were not yet dusky with the shadows which Jack had +hoped might enable him to approach the forecastle door +in his brave endeavor to unbar it. The plans were all +awry. Tears filled his eyes. And then there came to his +ear a muffled knock against the other side of the forecastle +planking.</p> + +<p>Once, twice, thrice! The signal was unmistakable. +A little interval and it was repeated.</p> + +<p>Softly the trembling lad tiptoed to the corner of the +forecastle house and peered around it to look for the +sentries. Two of them had moved a few yards away to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +join a group which gazed aft as if expecting a summons +from Ned Rackham on the poop. The third sentry +leaned against the forecastle door, a cutlass at his belt. +He was a long, bony man with a face as yellow as parchment +from the Spanish fever and it was plain to read +that there was no great strength in him.</p> + +<p>Faithful Joe Hawkridge sat astride the breech of the +nine-pounder at which he had been so busily engaged +earlier in the afternoon. He appeared to be an idler +who merely looked on but he was watching every motion, +and that hard, canny face of his had, for once, forgot +to grin. Releasing a three-foot handspike from its +lashing beside the gun-carriage, he awaited the next roll +of the deck and deftly kicked this handy weapon. It +slid toward the forecastle and Jack Cockrell stopped it +with his foot.</p> + +<p>There was no time for hesitation. Snatching up the +iron-shod handspike, Jack rushed straight at the forecastle +door. Just then the ship lurched far down and +he was shot headlong, like falling off the roof of a house. +He had the momentum of a battering-ram. The sentry +yelled and drew his cutlass with a swiftness amazing in +a sick man. His footing was unsteady or Jack would +have spitted himself on the point of the blade. As he +went crashing full-tilt into the man the impact was +terrific. They went to the deck together and the handspike +spun out of Jack's grasp. There was no need to +swing it on this luckless pirate for his bald head smote a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +plank with a thump which must have cracked it like an +egg.</p> + +<p>Not even pausing to dart after the cutlass which had +clattered from the lifeless fingers, Jack spun on his heel +and wrenched at the heavy bar across the forecastle door +and felt it slide from the fastenings. He tugged it clear +and swung himself up to the roof to draw the bolts which +secured the hatch. Rusted in their sockets, they resisted +him but he spied a pulley-block within reach and used it +as a hammer.</p> + +<p>All this was a matter of seconds only. The pirates +grouped amidships had been waiting for Ned Rackham's +word from aft and they were muddled by this sudden +shift of action. The other sentries stared in foolish +astonishment. The brief delay was enough to let Jack +Cockrell free the hatch. While he toiled furiously, several +pistols and a musket were snapped at him but the +flint sparked on damp powder in the pans and only one +ball whistled by his head.</p> + +<p>Out of the forecastle hatchway and through the door, +the enraged sailors of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> came +rocketing like an explosion. They stumbled over each +other, emerging head or feet first, blinking like owls in +the daylight but with vision good enough to serve their +purpose. Their goal was the nearest stand of boarding-pikes +at the foot of the mainmast.</p> + +<p>But as they came surging on deck, they were not +empty-handed. In the forecastle was a bricked oven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +for warmth in winter and for cooking kettles of soup. +This they had torn to pieces and every man sallied forth +with a square, flat brick in each hand and more inside +his shirt. Those who were first to gain the deck pelted +the nearest pirates with these ugly missiles. The air was +full of hurtling bricks and the earliest casualty was a +stout buccaneer who stopped one with his stomach.</p> + +<p>Driven back in yelling confusion, the pirates found +their firearms almost useless, so drenched had the whole +ship been by the battering seas, but they were accustomed +to fighting it out with the cold steel and they were +by no means a panicky mob. The fusillade of bricks +held them long enough for the merchant sailors to escape +from the forecastle and this was an advantage more +precious than Captain Wellsby had hoped for.</p> + +<p>What the pirates required was a leader to rally <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'than'">them</ins> +for attack. Quicker than it takes to tell it, Ned Rackham +had raced along the poop and leaped to the waist at +peril of breaking his neck. Agile, quick-witted, he +bounded into the thick of it, cutlass in hand, while he +shouted:</p> + +<p>"At 'em, lads! And give the dogs no quarter!"</p> + +<p>With hoarse outcry, his gallows-birds mustered compactly +while those who had been in the cabin came +scampering to join them. Curiously enough, Captain +Jonathan Wellsby had been forgotten. He was left +alone to handle the ship while the pirate helmsmen stood +by the great tiller. To forsake it meant to let the vessel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +run wild and perhaps turn turtle in the swollen seas. +And so the doughty skipper was, for the time, a +looker-on.</p> + +<p>And now with Ned Rackham in the van, it seemed +that the British sailors were in a parlous plight and that +their sortie must fail. Craftily the pirates manœuvered +to drive them back into the forecastle and there to +butcher them like sheep.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>RELEASING A FEARFUL WEAPON</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>J</big>ACK COCKRELL sprawled flat upon the +forecastle roof and knew not what to do. He +could lay hands on nothing to serve as a +weapon and he bade fair to be trapped like the +sailors whose cause he had joined. With a feeling +of despair he let his gaze rove to the scrawny +figure of Joe Hawkridge who still bestrode the +nine-pounder and took no part in the fray. But Joe +had no comfort for him, as a gesture conveyed. It had +been Joe's wild scheme to obtain the help of Jack and +Captain Wellsby, at the least, and so cast loose the gun +and slew it around to rake the deck and mow the pirates +down. But the men were lacking for this heavy task, +and the sailors of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> were too intent +on fighting against fearful odds to pay heed to Joe +Hawkridge's appeals. He had even skulked into the +galley and was ready with a little iron pot filled with +live coals which was hidden under a bit of tarpaulin.</div> + +<p>Ned Rackham was a young man and powerful, with +a long reach and a skilled blade. He fairly hewed his +way into the ruck of the dauntless sailors who had no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +more bricks to hurl. Several pirates were disabled, with +broken arms or bloody crowns, but the others crowded +forward, grunting as they slashed and stabbed, and well +aware that Ned Rackham would cut the laggards down +should he detect them.</p> + +<p>At the moment when there seemed no chance of salvation +for the crew of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, Joe +Hawkridge leaped from the gun and beckoned Jack. +The grin was restored to the homely, freckled visage +and the salt water gamin danced in jubilant excitement. +Down from the forecastle roof tumbled Jack Cockrell +and went sliding across the deck, heels over head, to +fetch up in the scupper. Joe hauled him by the leg, +close to the wooden carriage of the gun, and swiftly told +him what was to be done.</p> + +<p>Obediently Jack began to loose the knots which secured +the rope tackles but it was a slow task. The wet +had made the hemp as hard as iron and he lacked a marlinspike. +Joe dodged around the gun, saw the difficulty +and sawed through one rope after another, all but the +last strand or two. Then the lads tailed on to the +breeching hawsers, which held the carriage from sliding +on its iron rollers, and eased the strain as well as they +could.</p> + +<p>The ponderous mass was almost free to plunge across +the deck. Joe sweated and braced his feet against a +ring-bolt while Jack Cockrell found a cleat. Ned Rackham's +men were moving forward, cut and thrust, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +the sailors grappled with them bare-handed and battled +grimly like mastiffs.</p> + +<p>"The next time she rolls!" panted Joe Hawkridge as +the hawser ripped the skin from his palms.</p> + +<p>"Aye, make ready to cut," muttered Jack.</p> + +<p>The ship heaved herself high and then listed far down +to starboard. Joe slashed at the last strands of the +tackles and yelled to Jack to let go the hawser. Instead +of discharging the nine-pounder, they were employing +the piece itself, and the carriage of oak and iron, as a +terrible missile. The moment of launching it was +shrewdly chosen. The pirates, still in compact formation +as led by Ned Rackham, were directly abreast of +this forward gun of the main deck battery. The deck +inclined at a steep and giddy pitch. With a grinding +roar the gun rolled from its station. It gathered impetus +and lunged across the ship as an instrument of fell +destruction. It was more to be feared than an assault +of armed men.</p> + +<p>The warning rumble of the iron wheels as they furrowed +the planking was heard by the pirates. They +turned from their game of butchery and stood frozen in +their tracks for a frightened instant. Then they tried to +flee in all directions. Their tarry pigtails fairly stood on +end. Well they knew what it meant to have a gun break +adrift in a heavy sea. Two or three who had been badly +hurt were unable to move fast enough. The gun +crunched over them and then seemed to pursue a limp<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>ing +pirate, veering to overtake him as he fled. He was +tossed against the bulwark like a bundle of bloody +rags.</p> + +<p>The gun crashed into the stout timbers of the ship's +side and they were splintered like match-wood. It rebounded +as the deck sloped sharply in the next wallowing +roll, and now this frenzied monster of wood and iron +seemed fairly to run amuck. It was inspired with a +sinister intelligence, resolved to wreak all the damage +possible. The pinnace, the water barrels, the coamings +of the cargo hatches, were smashed to fragments as the +gun turned this way and that and went plunging in +search of victims.</p> + + +<p>Left to themselves, the seamen of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +would have risked their lives to cast ropes about +the gun and moor it fast. But now they were quick to +see that the tide had been turned in their favor. The +pirates were demoralized. Some were in the rigging, +others atop the bulwarks, and only the readiest and +boldest, with Ned Rackham in the lead, had an eye to +the task in hand, which was to regain possession of the +ship.</p> + +<p>And now the boatswain of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, +a rosy giant of a man from South Devon, shouted to his +comrades to follow him. They delayed until the runaway +cannon crashed into another gun, and then they +broke like sprinters from the mark and sped straight for +the mainmast, seeking the rack of boarding-pikes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +They ran nimbly, as men used to swaying decks, and +compassed the distance in a few strides.</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" width="600" height="458" alt="THE BRAWN OF THESE LADS MADE THE PIKE A MATCH FOR A PIRATE'S CUTLASS" title="THE BRAWN OF THESE LADS MADE THE PIKE A MATCH FOR A PIRATE'S CUTLASS" /> +<span class="caption">THE BRAWN OF THESE LADS MADE THE PIKE A MATCH FOR A PIRATE'S CUTLASS</span> +</div> + +<p>Ned Rackham perceived their purpose and tried to +intercept but his few staunch followers moved warily, +expecting to see that insensate monster of a gun bear +down upon them. The swiftest of the merchant sailors +laid hands on the pikes and whirled to cover their shipmates, +until all hands could be armed. Then the gun +came roaring down at them but they ducked behind the +mast or stepped watchfully aside. Men condemned to +death are not apt to lose their wits in the face of one +more peril.</p> + +<p>These pikes were ashen shafts with long steel points +and the merchant seamen had been trained to use them. +And the brawn of these lads made the pike a match for +a pirate's cutlass. Ned Rackham bounded forward to +swing at the broad, deep-chested boatswain. A wondrous +pair of antagonists they were, in the prime of +their youth and vigor. The pirate's cutlass bit clean +through the pike shaft as the boatswain parried the blow +but the apple-cheeked Devonshire man closed in and +wrapped his arms around his foe. They went to the +deck clutching for each other's throats and the fight +trampled over them.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Joe Hawkridge and Jack Cockrell, unwilling +to twiddle their thumbs, had rushed aft as fast +as their legs could carry them. It was a mutual impulse, +to release such of the men passengers as might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +have a stomach for fighting and also the ship's officers. +Into the doorway which led from the waist, the two lads +dived and scurried through the main cabin now clear of +pirates. Locked doors they smashed with a broadaxe +found in the small-arms chest and so entered all the +rooms.</p> + +<p>The women passengers were almost dead with suffering, +what with the turbulence of the storm and the wild +riot on deck. The lads pitied them but had no time to +console. Several of the men, merchants and planters of +some physical hardihood, begged for weapons and Joe +Hawkridge bade them help themselves from the spare +arms which the pirates had left in the great cabin. In +another little room the boys found the mates, steward, +surgeon, and gunner of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> and +you may be sure that they came boiling out with a raging +thirst for strife.</p> + +<p>"Harkee, Jack," said Joe before they climbed to the +poop deck, "if the pirates are driven aft, as I expect, +they will make a last stand in this cabin house which is +like a fort. These 'fenseless women must be hidden safe +from harm. Do you coax 'em into the lazarette."</p> + +<p>This was a room on the deck below, in the very stern +of the ship where were kept the extra sails and coils of +rope and various stores. It was the surest shelter against +harm in such stress as this. Alas, Jack's persuasions +were vain. The frantic women were in no humor to +listen, and so the lads bundled them through the hatch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +as gently as possible and for company gave them such +male passengers as lacked strength or courage to join +the battle.</p> + +<p>While they were thus engaged, two pirates came flying +down the ladder from the poop deck into the main +cabin. They revolved like windmills in a jumble of +arms and legs. Close behind them, in a manner more +orderly came Captain Jonathan Wellsby who had tossed +the one and tremendously booted the other. They were +the helmsmen whom he had replaced with his own officers +at the steering tackles, while his first mate had been +left in charge of handling the ship.</p> + +<p>The skipper was now free to follow his own desires +and he fell upon those two stunned pirates in the cabin +and trussed them tight with bits of rope. Then he reloaded +with dry powder all the pistols he could find and +made a walking <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'arsensal'">arsenal</ins> of himself. The two lads who +now joined him needed no word of command. At his +heels they made for the main deck and the shout which +arose from those British sailors, so sorely beset, was +mightily heartening.</p> + +<p>Blazing away with his pistols, the skipper cleared a +path for himself, the pirates being taken aback when +they were attacked in the rear. And they were leaderless, +for Ned Rackham had been dragged aside with the +marks of the boatswain's fingers on his throat and a +sheath-knife buried in his side. He was alive but nobody +paid heed to his groans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the skipper in the thick of it, there was no danger +of being penned in the forecastle again. The pirates +were crowded aft, step by step, before the play of those +wicked boarding-pikes. It would be hard to match a +sea fight like this, amid the spray and the washing seas, +on a deck that tipsily danced and staggered, with a truant +gun smashing a good ship to bits and the wounded +screaming as they saw this horror thundering at them. +Captain Wellsby's men were at pains to drag their helpless +comrades to safety but the pirates were too callous +and too hard pressed to care for aught save their own +worthless skins. They fought like wolves but they +lacked the gristle and endurance of the stalwart sailors. +Wheezing for breath, they ceased to curse and reeled +back in silence while the sailors huzzaed and seemed to +wax the lustier.</p> + +<p>As was bound to happen, the stubborn retreat broke +into a rout. It was every man for himself and the devil +take the hindmost. The pirates fled for the after cabin-house, +there to take cover behind the timbered walls and +use the small port-holes for musketry fire. Thus they +could find respite and it would be immensely difficult to +dislodge them.</p> + +<p>The first mate of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> and his +own two helmsmen saw what was taking place and they +were of no mind to be cut off at the stern of the ship. +They footed it along the poop and the cabin roof as the +pirates were scampering inside and so gained the waist<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +and were with their comrades. The tiller deserted, the +vessel careened into the trough of the sea with a portentous +creaking of spars and rending of canvas.</p> + +<p>The mainmast had been dealt more than one splintering +blow by the fugitive gun. This sudden strain, of a +ship broached to and hurled almost on her beam ends, +was too much for the damaged mast. It broke short off, +a few feet above the deck, and the ragged butt ripped +the planks asunder as it was dragged overside by the +weight of the towering fabric of yards and canvas. One +merciful circumstance befell, for the tangle of shrouds +and sheets and halliards ensnared the ramping monster +of a cannon and overturned it. Caught in this manner, +the gun was dragged to the broken bulwark and there +it was held with the battered carriage in air.</p> + +<p>The mainmast was floating alongside the ship which +it belabored with thumps that jarred the hull. It was +likely to stave in the skin of the vessel and Captain +Wellsby shouted to his men to hack at the trailing cordage +and send the mast clear before it did a fatal injury. +A dozen men risked drowning at this task while the +others guarded the after cabin lest the pirates attempt a +sally. These besieged rogues were given an interval in +which to muster their force, organize a defense, and +break into the magazine for muskets and powder and +ball.</p> + +<p>Now Captain Wellsby was no dullard and he purposed +to make short work of these vile pirates. Other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>wise +his crippled ship might not survive the wind and +weather. He conferred with his gunner who had bethought +himself, by force of habit, to fetch from aft his +powder-horn and several yards of match, or twisted tow, +which were wrapped around his body, beneath the tarred +jerkin.</p> + +<p>"It grieves me sore to wreck yonder goodly cabin +house," said the skipper in his beard, "but, by Judas, +we'll blow 'em out of it. Haul and belay your pieces, +Master Gunner, and let 'em have a salvo of round shot."</p> + +<p>Reckless of the musket balls which began to fly among +them, the sailors jumped for their stations at the guns. +First they set aright that capsized nine-pounder which +had wreaked so much mischief and found that it could +be discharged, despite the broken carriage. Joe Hawkridge +and Jack Cockrell blithely aided to swing and secure +it with emergency tackles and Joe exclaimed, with +a chuckle:</p> + +<p>"This dose is enough to surprise Blackbeard hisself. +'Tis an ironmonger's shop I rammed down its throat."</p> + +<p>The gun was laid on the largest cabin port-hole just +as it framed the ugly face of a pirate with a musket +while another peered over his shoulder. Joe shook the +powder-horn into the touch-hole and the gunner was +ready with the match which he had lighted with his own +flint and steel. Boom, and the gun recoiled in a veil of +smoke. Through the cabin port-hole flew a deadly +shower of spikes and bolts while the framework around<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +it was shattered to bits. It was a most unhealthy place +for pirates. They forsook it instantly. And the musketry +fire slackened elsewhere. It was to be inferred +that there was painful consternation in the cabin.</p> + +<p>With boisterous mirth, the sailors deftly turned other +guns to bear and were careful not to let them get adrift. +The muzzles had been well stopped against wetting by +the sea and with a little dry powder for the priming, +most of them could be served. They could not be reloaded +for dearth of ammunition but Captain Wellsby +felt confident that one round would suffice.</p> + +<p>Methodically the gun-crews aimed and fired one gun +after another, watching the chance between the seas that +broke aboard. The solid round shot, at short range, +ripped through the cabin walls and bulkheads and buried +themselves in the frames and timbers of the ship's stern. +A good gunner was never so happy as when he saw the +white splinters fly in showers and these zealous sailormen +forgot they were knocking their own ship to pieces. +They were on the target, and this was good enough.</p> + +<p>The beleaguered pirates made no more pretense of +firing muskets or defying the crew to dig them out. +Their fort was an untenable position. At this sport of +playing bowls with round shot they were bound to lose. +Captain Wellsby sighted the last gun himself. It was +a bronze culverin of large bore, taken as a trophy from +the stranded wreck of a Spanish galleon. With a tremendous +blast this formidable cannon spat out a double-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>shotted +load and the supports of the cabin roof were torn +asunder. The tottering beams collapsed. Half the +structure fell in.</p> + +<p>It was the signal for the sailors of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +to charge aft and finish the business. They +found pirates crawling from under the wreckage. It +was like a demolished ant-heap. In the smaller cabins +and other rooms far aft, which were more or less intact, +some of the rascals showed fight but they were remorselessly +prodded out with pikes and those unwounded were +hustled forward to be thrown into the forecastle. It +was difficult to restrain the seamen from dealing them +the death they deserved but Captain Wellsby was no +sea-butcher and he hoped to turn them over to the +colonial authorities to be hanged with due ceremony.</p> + +<p>The badly hurt were laid in the forecastle bunks +where the ship's surgeon washed and bandaged them +after he had cared for the injured men of his own crew. +Ned Rackham was still alive, conscious and defiant, surviving +a wound which would have been mortal in most +cases. Whether he lived or died was a matter of small +concern to Captain Wellsby but he ordered the surgeon +to nurse him with special care.</p> + +<p>The dead pirates were flung overboard but the bodies +of seven brave British seamen were wrapped in sailcloth +to be committed to the deep on the morrow, with a +round shot at their feet and a prayer to speed their +souls. There were men enough to work the ship but she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +was in a situation indescribably forlorn. It was possible +to patch and shore the cabin house and make a refuge, +even to find place for the wretched women who were +lifted unharmed out of the lazarette. But the stout ship, +her mainmast gone by the board, the deck ravaged by +that infernal catapult of an errant gun, the hull pounded +by the floating wreckage of spars, would achieve a miracle +should she see port again.</p> + +<p>The combat with the pirates and their overthrow had +been waged in the last hour before the gray night closed +over a somber sea. God's mercy had caused the wind +to fall and the waves to diminish in size else the ship +would have gone to the bottom ere dawn. Much water +had washed down into the hold through the broken +cargo hatch and the gaps where the runaway gun had +torn other fittings away. The carpenter sounded the +well and solemnly stared at the wetted rod by the flicker +of his horn lantern. The ship was settling. It was his +doleful surmise that she leaked where the pounding +spars overside had started the butts. It was man the +pumps to keep the old hooker afloat and Captain +Wellsby ordered his weary men to sway at the brakes, +watch and watch.</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge and Jack Cockrell, more fit for duty +than the others, put their backs into it right heartily +while the sailors droned to the cadence of the pump a +sentimental ditty which ran on for any number of verses +and began in this wise:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'>"As, lately I traveled toward Gravesend,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I heard a fair Damosel a Sea-man commend:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And as in a Tilt-boat we passed along,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In praise of brave Sea-men she sung this new Song,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>Come Tradesman or Marchant, whoever he be,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>There's none but a Sea-man shall marry with me!</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Thus they labored all the night through, men near +dead with fatigue whose hard fate it was to contend now +with pirates and again with the hostile ocean. The +skipper managed to stay the foremast and to bend steering +sails so that the ship was brought into the wind +where her motion was easier. The sky cleared before +daybreak and the rosy horizon proclaimed a fair sunrise. +How far and in what direction the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +had been blown by the storm was largely guesswork. +By means of dead reckoning and the compass and cross-staff, +Captain Wellsby hoped to work out a position but +meanwhile he scanned the sea with a sense of brooding +anxiety.</p> + +<p>Instead of praying for plenty of sea room, he now +hoped with all his heart that the vessel had been set in +toward the coast. She was sinking under his feet and +would not live through the day. It was useless to toil +at the pumps or to strive at mending the shattered upperworks. +The men turned to the task of quitting the +ship, and of saving the souls on board. It was a pitiful +extremity and yet they displayed a dogged, unshaken +fidelity. Only one boat had escaped destruction. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +pinnace had been staved in by the thunderbolt of a gun +and the yawl, stowed upon the cabin roof, was wrecked +by round shot. The small jolly-boat would hold the +women passengers and the wounded sailors, with the +hands required to tend oars and sail.</p> + +<p>Nothing remained but to try to knock together one +or more rafts. Captain Wellsby discussed it with his +officers and it was agreed that the able-bodied pirates +should be left to build a raft for themselves, taking their +own wounded with them. This was more mercy than +they had any right to expect. The strapping young +Devonshire boatswain, with his head tied up, was for +leaving the blackguards to drown in the forecastle but +the shipmaster was too humane a man for that.</p> + +<p>It was drawing toward noon when the first mate +descried land to the westward, a bit of low coast almost +level with the sea. In the light air the sluggish ship +moved ever so slowly, with canvas spread on the fore +and mizzen masts. Spirits revived and life tasted passing +sweet. To drift in the open sea upon wave-washed +rafts was an expedient which all mariners shuddered to +contemplate. It was with feelings far different that +they now assembled spars and planks and lashed and +spiked them together on the chance of needing rafts to +ferry them ashore from a stranded ship.</p> + +<p>Well into the bright afternoon the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +was wafted nearer and nearer the sandy coast. +Within a half mile of it a line of breakers frothed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +tumbled on a shoal beyond which the water deepened +again. The ship could not be steered to avoid this +barrier. Her main deck was almost level with the sea +which lapped her gently and sobbed through the broken +bulwarks. With a slight shock she struck the shoal and +rested there just before she was ready to founder.</p> + +<p>With disciplined haste, the jolly-boat was launched +and filled with its human freightage. The boatswain +went in charge and four seamen tugged at the sweeps. +There were trees and clumps of bushes among the +hillocks of sand and a tiny bight for a landing place. +The bulwark was then chopped away so that the largest +raft could be shoved into the water by means of tackles, +rollers and handspikes. It floated buoyantly and supported +as many as fifteen men, who did not mind +in the least getting their feet wet. Upon a raised platform +in the centre of the raft were fastened barrels of +beef and bread and casks of fresh water.</p> + +<p>The jolly-boat could hope to make other trips between +the ship and the shore but the prudent skipper +took no chances with the weather. A sudden gale might +pluck the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> from the shoal or tear +her to fragments where she lay. Therefore most of the +men, including passengers, were embarked on the raft. +Captain Wellsby remained aboard with a few of his +sailors and our two lads, Joe and Jack, who had not attempted +to thrust themselves upon the crowded raft.</p> + +<p>The pirates were making a commotion in the fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>castle, +yammering to be freed, but the skipper had no +intention of loosing them until all his people had safely +abandoned ship. The jolly-boat made a landing without +mishap and returned to the wreck as the sun went +down. More stores were dumped into it, sacks +of potatoes and onions which had been overlooked, +bedding for the women, powder and ball for the +muskets, and other things which it was necessary to +keep dry.</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby got rid of the rest of his men on this +trip, excepting the gunner and carpenter, and these lingered +with him as a kind of body-guard pending the ticklish +business of releasing the imprisoned pirates and forsaking +them to their own devices. The jolly-boat was +laden to the gunwales and Jack Cockrell held back, saying +to Joe Hawkridge:</p> + +<p>"Why trouble the captain to set us ashore? Let us +make a raft of our own. The breeze holds fair to the +beach and it will be a lark."</p> + +<p>"It suits me well," grinned Joe. "If we wait to go +off with the master, and those sinful pirates see me +aboard, I'll need wings to escape 'em. They saw me +serve the gun that was filled with spikes to the muzzle. +Aye, Jack, I will feel happier to be elsewhere when +Cap'n Wellsby unbars the fo'castle and holds 'em back +with his pistols till he can cast off in the jolly-boat."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the sight of you is apt to put them in a vile +temper," laughingly agreed Jack, "and 'tis awkward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +for the master to bother with us. Now about a little +raft——"</p> + +<p>"Two short spars are enough. There they lie. And +the cabin hatch will do for a deck. Spikes for thole-pins, +and oars from the pinnace. Unlace the bonnet of +the jib for a sail."</p> + +<p>"You are a proper sailorman, Joe. A voyage +by starlight to an unknown coast. 'Tis highly romantic."</p> + +<p>They set to work without delay. Captain Wellsby +had occupations of his own and no more than glanced +at them in passing. Jack insisted on carrying a water +breaker and rations, he being hungry and too busy to +pause for supper. They would make a picnic cruise of +the adventure. Handily Joe reeved a purchase and they +hauled away until their raft slid off the sloping deck to +leeward. With a gay hurrah to Captain Wellsby, they +paddled around the stern of the ship and through the +ruffle of surf that marked the shoal.</p> + +<p>In the soft twilight they trimmed the sail and swung +at the clumsy oars, while a fire blazing on the beach was +a beacon to guide their course. After a time they rested +and wiped the sweat from their faces. The progress of +the raft was like that of a lazy snail. In the luminous +darkness they pulled with all their strength. The wind +had died to a calm. The sail hung idle from its yard. +They heard, faint and afar, the deep voices of the sailors +in the jolly-boat as they returned to take the skipper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +and his two companions from the ship on which a light +burned.</p> + +<p>The lads shouted but there came no answering hail +from the unseen boat. They were perplexed to understand +how their courses could be so far apart. Presently +the night breeze drew off the land, bringing with +it the scent of green things growing. Joe Hawkridge +stared at the fire on the beach and then turned to look +at the spark of light on the ship. The raft had drifted +considerably to the southward. Anxiously Joe said to +his shipmate:</p> + +<p>"The flood o' the tide must be setting us down the +coast, in some crazy current or other. Mayhap it runs +strong through this race betwixt the shoal and the beach +with a slant that's bad for us."</p> + +<p>"I noted it," glumly agreed Jack. "The jolly-boat +passed too far away to please me. And this landward +breeze is driving us to sea."</p> + +<p>"No sense in breaking our backs at these oars," grumbled +Joe. "We go ahead like a crab, with a sternboard. +Think ye we can swing the raft to fetch the +ship?"</p> + +<p>"After Captain Wellsby turns the pirates loose and +quits her?" scoffed Jack.</p> + +<p>"I am a plaguey fool," cheerfully admitted Joe +Hawkridge. "'Twould be out of the frying-pan into +the fire, with a vengeance."</p> + +<p>"And no way to signal our friends," sadly exclaimed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +Jack. "We forgot flint and steel. It looks much like +another voyage."</p> + +<p>"Straight for the open sea, my bully boy," agreed +Joe. "And I'd as soon chance it on a hen-coop."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE VOYAGE OF THE LITTLE RAFT</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HESE sturdy youngsters were not easily +frightened, and Jack Cockrell, the landsman, +was confident that wind and tide would change +to send the little raft shoreward. So tranquil was the +sea that they rode secure and dry upon the cabin hatch +which was buoyed by the two short spars. Joe Hawkridge +was silent with foreboding of a fate more bitter +than the perils which they had escaped. He had seen a +lone survivor of a crew of pirates picked off a raft in +the Caribbean, a grisly phantom raving mad who had +gnawed the flesh of his dead comrades.</div> + +<p>They drifted quietly before the land breeze, beneath +a sky all jeweled with bright stars. The fire on the +beach dimmed to a red spark and then vanished from +their wistful ken. They could no longer see the light +on the wreck of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. Now and +then the boys struggled with the heavy oars and rowed +until exhausted but they knew they could be making no +headway against the current which had gripped the +derelict raft. They ate sparingly of flinty biscuit and +leathery beef pickled in brine and stinted themselves to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +a few swallows of water from the wooden breaker or +tiny cask.</p> + +<p>"Hunger and thirst are strange to ye, Jack," said +young Hawkridge as they lay stretched side by side. +"Hanged if I ever did get enough to eat till I boarded +the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. Skin and bone I am. I'll +not call this a bad cruise unless we have to chew our +boot-tops. A pesky diet is leather. I've tried it."</p> + +<p>"Truly, Joe?" cried Jack in lugubrious accents. +"We may have more heart when morning comes. A +piping easterly breeze, such as is wont to come up with +the sun in Charles Town, and we can steer for the coast +all taut and cheery."</p> + +<p>"I dread the sun, Jack. For men adrift the blaze +of it fries them like fish on a grid. A pint of water a +day, no more, is the allowance. 'Twill torture you, but +castaways can live on it. They have done it for weeks +on end. Here's two musket balls in my pocket. I can +whittle a balance from a bit of pine and we must weigh +the bread and meat."</p> + +<p>"Two musket balls' weight of food for a meal?" protested +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Not a morsel more," was the grim answer. +"Granted we be not washed off this silly raft and +drowned when a fresh breeze kicks up the sea, we +may hold body and soul together through five or six +days."</p> + +<p>"But some vessel will sight us, Joe, even if the plight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +is as dark as your melancholy fancies paint it. And I +thought you a light-hearted mariner in danger."</p> + +<p>"The sea is a cruel master and she hath taught me +prudence," was the reply. "A vessel sight us? I fear +an empty sea so soon after the storm. And honest ships +will be loth to venture out from port if the word sped +that Blackbeard was cruising off Charles Town bar."</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell forsook the attempt to wring comfort +out of his hardy companion who refused to delude himself +with vain imaginings. However, it is the blessed +gift of youth to keep the torch of hope unquenched and +presently they diverted themselves with chatting of their +earlier adventures. Jack was minded of his pompous, +stout-hearted uncle, Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes, and +wondered how he had fared, whether he had set out to +return to Blackbeard's ship with the store of medicines +from Charles Town when the great storm swooped +down. Forgotten were Jack's hot grievances against +the worthy Secretary of the Council who had sought to +take a father's place. Piracy had lost its charm for +young Master Cockrell and meekly would he have +obeyed the mandate to go to school in merry England +among sober, Christian folk.</p> + +<p>"Tremendous odd, I call it," exclaimed Joe Hawkridge. +"Here I was a pirate and hating the dirty business. +And my dreams were all of learnin' to be a gentleman +ashore, to know how to read books and such. Blow +me, Jack, we should ha' swapped berths."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If my good uncle is alive I mean to commend you +to his kindness," exclaimed Jack. "We must cleave together, +and you shall have a skinful of books and school +and manners."</p> + +<p>This pleased the young sea rover beyond measure and +he diverted himself with pictures of a cleaner, kindlier +world than he had ever known. In the small hours of +the night, the twain drowsed upon their frail platform +which floated as a speck on the shrouded ocean. The +waves splashed over the spars as the breeze grew livelier +and the piteous voyagers were sopping wet but the water +was not chill and they slept through this discomfort.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell dreamed of walking in a green lane of +Charles Town with lovely Dorothy Stuart. A wave +slapped his face and he awoke with a sputtering cry of +bewilderment. The eastern sky was rosy and the sea +shimmered in the eternal beauty of a new day. Joe +Hawkridge sat huddled against the mast, chin and +knees together, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. +With a grin he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"The watch ahoy! Rouse out, shipmate, and show a +leg! Turn to cheerly! Holystone decks and wash +down, ye lazy lubber."</p> + +<p>Jack groaned and scowled as he rolled over to ease +his aching bones. He was in no mood for jesting. +There was no land in sight nor the gleam of a sail, +naught but the empty waste of the Atlantic, and the +wind still held westerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let's have the beggarly morsel you miscall breakfast, +Joe, and a swig from the breaker. Are we bound +across the main?"</p> + +<p>"Straight for London River, and the school you prate +about, my bucko," replied the scamp of a pirate. +"Haul away on your belt and set the buckle tighter. +'Twill ease the cursed hunger pain that gnaws like a +rat."</p> + +<p>They munched the pittance of salty food which made +the thirst the harder to endure, and then watched the +sun climb hot and dazzling. It was futile to hoist the +sail and so they pulled the canvas over them as the heat +became more intense. By noon, Jack was begging for +water to lave his tongue but Joe Hawkridge laughed +him to scorn and swore to hit him with an oar unless he +changed his tune. Never in his life had Jack known the +lack of food or drink and he therefore suffered cruelly.</p> + +<p>Worse than this privation was the increasing roughness +of the sea. It was a blithesome wind, rollicking +across a sparkling carpet of blue, with the little white +clouds in flocks above, like lambs at play. But the raft +was more and more tossed about and the waves gushed +over it like foam on a reef. Through the day the castaways +might cling to it but they dreaded another night +in which their weary bodies could not possibly ward off +sleep. Even though they tied themselves fast, what if +the raft should be capsized by the heave of the mounting +swell? It was the merest makeshift, scrambled to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>gether +in haste as a ferry from the wreck of the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i>.</p> + +<p>No longer did Jack Cockrell bemoan his situation. +Taking pattern from his comrade in misery, he set his +teeth to await the end as became a true man of gentle +blood. After all, drowning was easier than the slow +torments of hunger and thirst.</p> + +<p>Every little while one of them crawled from under +the canvas to look for a ship. It was the vigilant Joe +Hawkridge who, at length, discovered what was very +like a fleck of cloud on the ocean's rim, to the southward. +Afraid that his vision tricked him, he displayed no emotion +but held himself as steady as any stoic. Jack was +wildly excited, blubbering and waving his arms about. +His hard-won composure was broken to bits. But even +though it were a ship, Joe well knew it might pass afar +off and so miss sighting this bit of raft which drifted +almost submerged.</p> + +<p>Slowly the semblance of a wandering fragment of +cloud climbed the curve of the watery globe until Joe +Hawkridge perceived, with a mariner's eye, that it was, +indeed, a vessel steering in their direction.</p> + +<p>"Two masts!" said he, "and to'gallant-sails set to +profit by this brave breeze. A brig, Jack! Had she +been a ship, my heart 'ud ha' been in my throat. Blackbeard's +<i>Revenge</i> might be working up the coast, did she +live through the storm."</p> + +<p>"A brig?" joyfully cried Jack. "Ah, ha, I see her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +two masts plainly, with mine own eyes. And they +soar too tall for a merchant trader. Her sails, too,—she +spreads them like great wings. Who else will it be +than Captain Stede Bonnet in the <i>Royal James?</i>"</p> + +<p>"A shift of luck is due us, by the bones of Saint +Iago," shouted Joe, in a thrill of glad anticipation. +"Watch her closely. You saw the brig in Charles Town +harbor. Bless God, this may well be Cap'n Stede Bonnet +yonder, an' perchance he cruises in search of Blackbeard +to square accounts with that vile traitor that so +misused him."</p> + +<p>"A sworn friend of mine is Stede Bonnet," proudly +declared Jack Cockrell, "and pledged to bear a hand +when I am in distress. He will land us safe in Charles +Town, Joe,—unless,—unless we choose to go a-piratin' +with him in the <i>Royal James</i>——"</p> + +<p>Jack's voice trailed off in tones of indecision so comical +that his comrade cried:</p> + +<p>"Not cured yet, you big numbskull? 'Cause this fine +Cap'n Bonnet is a gentleman pirate? His neck will +stretch with the rest of 'em when the law overtakes him. +Thirteen burly lads I saw swinging in a row at Wapping +on the Thames."</p> + +<p>"I'll not argue it," sheepishly mumbled Jack. +"However, we'll find a safe deliverance aboard this +<i>Royal James</i>."</p> + +<p>They clung to the swaying raft while the water +washed over their knees and watched the two masts dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>close +themselves until they fancied they could not be +mistaken. No other brig as powerful as this had been +reported cruising in the waters of Virginia and the Carolinas. +By a stroke of fortune almost incredible they +had been saved at the very brink of death. The brig +was steering straight toward them, hauled to take the +wind abeam, and she would be up before sunset.</p> + +<p>Shading his eyes with his hand, Joe Hawkridge suddenly +uttered a curse so fierce and wicked that it was +enough to freeze the blood. He clutched Jack's shoulder +for support as though shorn of all his strength and +hoarsely gasped:</p> + +<p>"Not two masts but three! See it? She lifts high +enough to show the stump of the foremast with head-sails +jury rigged. 'Twas the storm made a brig of her!"</p> + +<p>"Then she may be Blackbeard's ship?" faltered Jack, +in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Remember when the gale first broke and we parted +company?" was the reply. "The <i>Revenge</i> lost her +fore-topmast ere the swine could find their wits."</p> + +<p>"Aye, Joe, but this may be some other vessel."</p> + +<p>"She looks most damnably familiar," was the reluctant +admission. "A great press of sail,—it fooled +me into thinking her Stede Bonnet's brig."</p> + +<p>Gloomily they waited until the black line of the hull +was visible whenever the raft lifted on the back of a +wave. This was enough for Joe. He recognized the +graceful shear of the flush deck which had been ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>tended +fore and aft to make room for a heavier main +battery. Even at a distance, a sailor's eye could read +other signs that marked this ship as the <i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>"The devil looks after his own," angrily exclaimed +Joe. "I'd ha' wagered my last ducat that she was +whirled away to founder. Blackbeard boasts of his compact +with Satan. I believe it's true."</p> + +<p>"Shall we pull down our mast and pray that he passes +the raft as a piece of wreckage?" implored Jack.</p> + +<p>Mustering his wits to meet this new crisis, Joe Hawkridge +cried impatiently:</p> + +<p>"No, no, boy! This way death is sure, and most discomfortin'. +If it suits Blackbeard's whim to pick us up, +there is a chance,—a chance, I say, but make one slip +and he will run us through with his own hand."</p> + +<p>"We must arrange our tale of the wreck, Joe, to +match without flaw. Quick! What have we to say?"</p> + +<p>"A task for a scholar, this," grinned the sea urchin. +"If it's not well learned, we'll taste worse'n a flogging. +Where be his prize crew of pirates, asketh Blackbeard. +Answer me that, Jack."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> was driven upon a shoal +and lost," glibly affirmed the other lad who had rallied +to play at this hazardous game. "Her boats were stove +up. We left the pirates building a raft for themselves +and trusted ourselves to this poor contrivance, hoping to +gain the coast."</p> + +<p>"Good, as far as it goes," observed the critical Joe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And it veers close to the truth. About the ship's company? +What say you?"</p> + +<p>"There I hang in the wind," confessed Jack. +"Blackbeard would have flung 'em overboard, I trow. +Have a shot at it yourself."</p> + +<p>"Well, leave me to answer that when the time comes. +That we may agree, suppose we say Ned Rackham +needed the sailors to work the ship and so spared 'em. +Hanged if we can make it all true as Gospel."</p> + +<p>"But if Blackbeard searches for the wreck, or if some +of those pirates rejoin him, Joe——"</p> + +<p>"But me no more buts," snapped the sea rover. +"We be jammed in a clove-hitch, as the seaman's lingo +hath it. Take trouble as it comes and, ware ye, don't +weaken."</p> + +<p>They stared at the oncoming ship, dreading to be rescued +and even more fearful of being passed by. Disfigured +though she was by a shattered foremast, the +<i>Revenge</i> made a gallant picture as she leaned to show +the copper sheathing which flashed like gold. Her bow +flung the crested seas aside and Joe Hawkridge muttered +admiringly:</p> + +<p>"A swift vessel! She carries a bone in her teeth. A +telescope can sight us soon. Steady the raft, Jack, +whilst I wriggle up this mast of ours and wave my +shirt."</p> + +<p>"A hard choice," sighed Jack. "Now we well know +what it means to be betwixt the devil and the deep sea."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>They saw the <i>Revenge</i> shift her course a couple of +points as the sheets were eased off. A little way to +windward of the raft, she hove to while a small boat +was hoisted out. Curiosity prompted Blackbeard to +find out who these castaways were and from what ship +they had drifted. It occurred to Joe Hawkridge that +he might be in quest of tidings of the two sloops of his +squadron which no longer kept him company. Jack +Cockrell's teeth chattered but not with cold as the boat +bobbed away from the side of the <i>Revenge</i>. Presently +Joe recognized the pirate at the steering oar as a petty +officer who had often befriended him.</p> + +<p>This fellow's swarthy, pockmarked face crinkled in +a smile as he flourished his broad hat and yelled:</p> + +<p>"Stab my gizzard, but here's the London 'prentice-boy +a-cruisin' on his own adventure."</p> + +<p>"Right-o, Jesse Strawn," Joe called back. "My +bark is short-handed. I need lively recruits. Will ye +enlist?"</p> + +<p>The boat's crew laughed at this as they reached out +to lay hold of the raft while the two lads leaped aboard. +Joe Hawkridge carried it off with rough bravado as +though glad to be among his pals again. They eyed +Jack Cockrell with quizzical interest and he did his best +to be at ease, permitting Joe to vouch for him as a young +gentleman with a taste for piracy who had won Blackbeard's +favor in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. They were +plied with eager questions regarding the fate of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +merchant ship and Ned Rackham's prize crew. It was +a chance to rehearse the tale as they had concocted it, +and it seemed to hang together well enough to satisfy +these simple rogues.</p> + +<p>In his turn, Joe Hawkridge demanded to know the +gossip of the <i>Revenge</i>. The storm had sobered Blackbeard, +it seemed, and he had displayed the skill of a +masterly seaman in bringing them safely through. In +toiling for their own lives, the men had forgotten their +brawls and plots and guzzling. And the great wind had +blown the ship clear of Spanish fever. There were no +new cases and the invalids were gaining strength. +Fresh food and sweet water were needed and the opinion +was that Blackbeard now steered for an old rendezvous +of his on the North Carolina coast where his sloops +would meet him if they were still afloat.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell found his courage returning as he +clambered up the side of the <i>Revenge</i> and followed Joe +aft to the quarter-deck. Unless they bungled it, there +was a chance that they might escape when the pirates +made their landing on the coast to refresh themselves +and refit the ship. The mate on watch greeted them +good-humoredly enough and bade them enter the cabin +where the captain awaited them. Jack was all a-flutter +again but he managed to imitate Joe's careless swagger.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard lounged at his ease in a huge chair of +carven ebony which might have been filched from some +stately East Indiaman or a ship of the Grand Mogul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +himself. He had flung off his coat and the sleeves of a +shirt of damask silk were rolled to the elbow. Instead +of the great, mildewed sea-boots he wore slippers of +crimson leather embroidered with threads of gold. +Gorgeous cushions, pieces of plate, costly apparel +strewed the cabin in barbaric confusion.</p> + +<p>What the two lads gazed at, however, was this bizarre +figure of a despot who held the power of life and +death. It was one of his quieter interludes when he +laid aside the ferocious and bombastic play-acting which +made it hard to discover whether he was very cunning +or half-mad. The immense beard flowed down his chest +instead of being tricked out in gaudy ribbons. He was +idly running a comb through it when his small, rum-reddened +eyes took in the two lads in dripping clothes +who were shoved toward him by the sentry guarding the +hatch.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard let a hairy hand stray to clutch one of the +pistols kept on the table beside him. Jack Cockrell +gulped and stole a frightened glance at Joe Hawkridge +who winked and nudged him. There was some small +comfort in this. Spellbound, they stared at the pistol +and then at the pirate's massive forearm on which a +skull and cross-bones was pricked in India ink. At this +moment Jack earnestly wished himself back on the raft. +The barrel of the pistol looked as big as a blunderbuss.</p> + +<p>With a yawn, Blackbeard reached for a silver bowl +of Brazil nuts, cracked one of them with the pistol-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>butt +and roared for the black cabin boy who came running +with a flask of Canary wine and a goblet. Jack +Cockrell's sigh of relief sounded like a porpoise coming +up for air. He was not to be shot at once. Suddenly +Blackbeard exclaimed, in that husky, growling voice of +his:</p> + +<p>"I saw you rascals through the glass before I came +below. What of the ship I left ye in? Briefly now, and +no lies."</p> + +<p>Together the lads pieced out the narrative as they had +hastily prepared it. The vital thing was to watch lest +they tell a word too much. Jack stumbled once or twice +but his comrade covered it adroitly, and they did not +betray themselves. The sweat trickled into their eyes +but the heat of the cabin was excuse for this. Blackbeard +studied them intently, munching Brazil nuts and +noisily sipping his wine.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> stranded yester-eve?" +said he. "Know ye the lay of the coast where the wreck +lies? What of the shipmaster and Ned Rackham? +Were they able to fix the shoal by reckoning?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," readily answered Joe Hawkridge. +"'Twas strange land to all hands."</p> + +<p>From a chest Blackbeard hauled out a dog-eared chart +of parchment and unrolled it upon the table. The boys +foresaw his intention and feared the worst. Presently +they heard him mumble to himself:</p> + +<p>"A small wind setting from the west'ard,—twenty-four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +hours of drift for the lads' raft,—a dozen leagues, +I call it."</p> + +<p>He looked up from the chart to ask:</p> + +<p>"The wreck was lodged fast in smooth water and +holding together?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, but in peril of working off and sinking like +an iron pot," answered Joe. "For this reason the people +were in haste to quit her."</p> + +<p>"Her own crew made for the beach, I have no doubt," +shrewdly pursued Blackbeard, "but my men 'ud stay +by the wreck and watch the weather ere they shoved off. +Trust the food and drink and plunder to hold 'em."</p> + +<p>He lumbered to the hatch and called up to the mate +on watch. While they conferred, Joe Hawkridge whispered +to his perturbed companion:</p> + +<p>"He will hunt for the wreck, Jack. But unless the +wind changes, he can't beat in to the coast with his fore-topmast +gone."</p> + +<p>"A merciful delay," muttered Jack. "I worry not +so much for Captain Wellsby and his people. They +will hide themselves well inland when they make out the +<i>Revenge</i>, but what of you and me?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis a vexing life we lead. I will say that much, +Master Cockrell."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE MIST OF THE CHEROKEE SWAMP</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HE dark cloud of anxiety was lightened a trifle +by the fact that Blackbeard displayed no ill +temper toward the two young castaways. +Having obtained such information as they chose to offer, +he roughly told them to go forward and join the crew. +Whether or no, Jack was impressed as a pirate and it +may have amused Blackbeard to recruit by force the +nephew of the honorable Secretary of the Provincial +Council. For his part, Jack was grateful to be regarded +no longer as a hostage under sentence of death. With +Joe as an escort who knew the ropes, he went on deck +and was promptly kicked off the poop by the mate.</div> + +<p>They first found food and quenched their raging +thirst with water which had a loathsome smell. Joe reported +to the chief gunner and begged the chance to +sleep for a dozen hours on end. This was granted amiably +enough and the pirates clustered about to ask all +manner of curious questions, but the weary lads dragged +themselves into the bows of the ship and curled up in a +stupor. There they lay as if drugged, all through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +night, even when the seamen trampled over them to +haul the head-sails and tack ship.</p> + +<p>When, at last, they blinked at the morning sky, it +dismayed them to find the breeze blowing strong out of +the southeast and the <i>Revenge</i> standing in to the coast +under easy sail. They looked aft and saw Blackbeard +at the rail with a long glass at his eye. The whole crew +was eager with expectation and the routine work went +undone. The ship had been put about several hours +earlier, Joe learned, and was due soon to sight the shore +unless the reckoning was all at fault.</p> + +<p>So cleverly had Blackbeard calculated the drift of the +boys' raft that a little later in the morning a lookout in +the maintop called down:</p> + +<p>"Land, ho! Two points off the starboard bow she +bears."</p> + +<p>"The maintop, ahoy!" shouted Blackbeard. "Can +ye see a vessel's spars?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis too hazy inshore. But unless my eyes play me +tricks, a smudge of smoke arises."</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell nervously confided to Joe:</p> + +<p>"That would be Captain Wellsby's campfire on the +beach."</p> + +<p>"Trust him to douse it," was the easy assurance. "I +feel better. Blow me, but I expect to live another day."</p> + +<p>"Answer me why," begged Jack. "I am like a palsied +old man."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know this bit o' coast, how low it sets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +above the sea. Despite the haze, a man aloft could see +a ship's masts and yards before he had a glimpse of +land."</p> + +<p>"Then the wreck of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> has +slid off the shoal and gone down, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, when the wind veered and stirred a surf on the +shoal. She pounded over with the flood-tide and +dropped into fifteen fathom."</p> + +<p>"Then we are saved, for now?" joyfully exclaimed +Jack.</p> + +<p>"Unless we're unlucky enough to find some o' those +plaguey pirates afloat on a raft or makin' signals from +the beach."</p> + +<p>The <i>Revenge</i> sailed shoreward until those on board +could discern the marching lines of breakers which tumbled +across the shoal. The smudge of smoke had vanished +from the beach. The lookout man concluded that +the haze had deceived him. Blackbeard steered as close +as he dared go, with a sailor heaving the lead, but there +was no sign of life among the sand-dunes and the stunted +trees. And the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> had disappeared +leaving no trace excepting scattered bits of floating +wreckage.</p> + +<p>The pirate ship headed to follow the coast to the +northward, on the chance that Ned Rackham's prize +crew might have made a landing elsewhere. To Jack +Cockrell the gift of life had been miraculously vouchsafed +him and he felt secure for the moment. Joe's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +theory seemed plausible, that the pirates had abandoned +the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> in time to avert drowning +with her, and were driven away from the bight and the +beach by Captain Wellsby's well-armed sailors.</p> + +<p>"Do they know Blackbeard's rendezvous in the North +Carolina waters, Joe?" was the natural query. "Are +they likely to make their way thither, knowing that honest +men will slay them at sight?"</p> + +<p>"The swamps and the murderous Indians will take +full toll of 'em, Jack. I believe we have seen the last of +those rogues, but I'd rest better could I know for certain."</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile this mad Blackbeard may be taken in +one of his savage frenzies and shoot me for sport," said +young Master Cockrell, for whom existence had come to +be one hazard after another.</p> + +<p>"He seems strangely tame, much like a human soul," +observed Joe. "I ne'er beheld him like this. He plots +some huge mischief, methinks."</p> + +<p>And now the ship's officers drove the men to their +work but they were less abusive than usual. They +seemed to reflect Blackbeard's milder humor and it was +manifest that they wished to avoid the crew's resentment. +Joe Hawkridge was puzzled and began to ferret +it out among his friends who were trustworthy. They +had their own suspicions and the general opinion was +that Blackbeard was in great dread of encountering +Captain Stede Bonnet in the <i>Royal James</i>. It seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +that the <i>Revenge</i> had spoken a disabled merchant ship +just after the storm and her skipper reported that he +had been overhauled by Stede Bonnet a few days earlier +and the best of his cargo stolen. Blackbeard had been +seized with violent rage but had suffered the ship to proceed +on her way because of his own short-handed condition.</p> + +<p>With a prize crew lost in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>, +including Sailing-Master Ned Rackham, and the two +sloops of the squadron missing with all hands, the terrible +Blackbeard was in poor shape to meet this Captain +Bonnet who hated him beyond measure. As if this were +not gloomy enough, there were men in the <i>Revenge</i> +eager to sail under Bonnet's flag and to mutiny if ever +they sighted the <i>Royal James</i>. It behooved Blackbeard +to press on to that lonely inlet on the North Carolina +coast and avoid the open sea until he could prepare to +fight this dangerous foeman.</p> + +<p>It surprised Jack Cockrell to see how quiet a pirate +ship could be. The ruffians were bone-weary, for one +thing, after the struggle to bring the vessel through the +storm. And the scourge of tropic fever had left its +marks. Moreover, the rum was running short because +some of the casks had been staved in the heavy weather +and Blackbeard was doling it out as grog with an ample +dilution of water. There was no more dicing and brawling +and tipsy choruses. Sobered against their will, some +of these bloody-minded sinners talked repentance or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +shed tears over wives and children deserted in distant +ports.</p> + +<p>The wind blew fair until the <i>Revenge</i> approached the +landmarks familiar to Blackbeard and found a channel +which led to the wide mouth of Cherokee Inlet. It was +a quiet roadstead sheltered from seaward by several +small islands. The unpeopled swamp and forest fringed +the shores but a green meadow and a margin of white +sand offered a favorable place for landing. As the +<i>Revenge</i> slowly rounded the last wooded point, the tall +mast of a sloop became visible. The pirates cheered and +discharged their muskets in salute as they recognized one +of the consorts which had been blown away in the storm.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard strutted on his quarter-deck, no longer +biting his nails in fretful anxiety. He had donned the +military coat with the glittering buttons and epaulets +and the huge cocked hat with the feather in it. He +noted that the sloop, which was called the <i>Triumph</i>, +fairly buzzed with men, many more than her usual complement. +No sooner had the ship let her anchor splash +than a boat was sent over to her with the captain of the +sloop who made haste to pay his compliments and explain +his voyage. He was a portly, sallow man with a +blustering manner and looked more like a bailiff or a +tapster than a brine-pickled gentleman of fortune.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard hailed him cordially and invited him into +the cabin. The boat waited alongside the <i>Revenge</i> and +the men scrambled aboard to swap yarns with the ship's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +crew. Jack Cockrell hovered near the group as they +squatted on their heels around a tub of grog and learned +that the <i>Triumph</i> had rescued the crew of the other sloop +just before it had foundered. There were a hundred men +of them, in all, crowded together like dried herring, and +part were sleeping ashore in huts of boughs and canvas. +No wonder Blackbeard was in blither spirits. Here was +a company to pick and choose from and so fill the depleted +berth-deck of the <i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>Finding the poop deserted, Joe Hawkridge ventured +far enough to peer in at a cabin window. Blackbeard +was at table, together with his first mate, the chief +gunner, the acting sailing-master, and the captain of the +sloop. They were exceeding noisy, singing most discordantly +and laughing at indecent jests. Suddenly +Blackbeard whipped two pistols from his sash and fired +them under the table, quite at random.</p> + +<p>The first mate leaped up with a horrible yell and +clapped a hand to the calf of his leg. Then he bolted +out of the cabin, which was blue with smoke, and limped +in search of the surgeon. Joe Hawkridge dodged aside +but he heard the jovial Blackbeard shout, with a whoop +of laughter:</p> + +<p>"Discipline, damme! If I don't kill one of you now +and then, you'll forget who I am."</p> + +<p>Inasmuch as none of the other guests dared squeak +after this episode, it was to be inferred that they were +properly impressed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" width="500" height="411" alt="THE FIRST MATE LEAPED UP WITH A HORRIBLE YELL" title="THE FIRST MATE LEAPED UP WITH A HORRIBLE YELL" /> +<span class="caption">THE FIRST MATE LEAPED UP WITH A HORRIBLE YELL</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a little while the mate returned with his leg neatly +bandaged, announced that it was a mere flesh wound, +and sat down as though nothing out of the ordinary had +occurred to mar the festive occasion. Through the rest +of the day, boats were passing between the ship and the +sloop in a convivial reunion. Supper was to be cooked +on the beach in great iron kettles and a frolic would +follow the feast. The sloop had rum enough to sluice +all the parched gullets aboard the <i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell had no desire to join this stupid revel +but he was eager to get ashore to discover what opportunity +there might be to escape. But the wiser Joe +Hawkridge counseled patience, saying:</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit. We'd be as helpless as any babes should +we take to our heels in this ungodly wilderness. Is +there a town or plantation near by?"</p> + +<p>"I know not," ruefully confessed Jack. "Charles +Town lies to the south, and Virginia to the north. +There my knowledge fetches up short."</p> + +<p>"And leagues of morass to flounder through, by the +look of this coast," said Joe. "We be without weapons, +or food, or——"</p> + +<p>"I am a hot-headed fool, I grant you that," broke in +Jack. "Now bestow your sage advice."</p> + +<p>"You will not be allowed to go ashore, for one thing, +Master Cockrell. Blackbeard has no notion of letting +you get away from him to betray this rendezvous and +stir the colonies to send an expedition after him. Steady<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +the helm, Jack, and watch for squalls. If I can read the +signs, there is trouble afoot. And we must seek our own +advantage in the nick of time."</p> + +<p>"But these wild sots no longer think of mutiny and +the like, Joe. They are content to let the morrow go +hang."</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-h, 'ware the master of the sloop," cautioned +Joe. "He makes for the gangway, the big lump of +tallow."</p> + +<p>They moved away while Captain Richard Spender +clumsily descended into his boat, his broad face flushed, +his breath asthmatic. He had a piping voice absurd for +his bulk and the two lads amused themselves with mimicking +him as the boat pulled in the direction of the +sloop. So safe against surprise did Blackbeard regard +himself in this lonely anchorage that no more than a +dozen men were left aboard to keep the ship through the +night. Among these was Jack Cockrell, as his comrade +had foreseen. It therefore happened that they remained +together, for Joe had volunteered to join the anchor +watch. In a melancholy mood the two lads idled upon +the after deck.</p> + +<p>The sun dropped behind the dark and tangled forest +and flights of herons came winging it home to the islets +in the swamps. On the sward by the silver strand the +throng of pirates had stilled their clamor while a rascal +with a tenor voice held them enraptured with the haunting +refrain of:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'>"Sweet Annie frae the sea-beach came,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Where Jockey's climbed the vessel's side:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ah! wha can keep her heart at hame,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">When Jockey's tossed aboon the tide?</span><br /> +<br /> +"Far off 'till distant realms he gangs,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">But I'se be true, as he ha' been;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And when ilk lass around him thrangs,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">He'll think on Annie's faithful een."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Forlorn Jack Cockrell had homesick thoughts and +felt hopeless of loosing the snares which bound him. +All that sustained his courage was the sanguine disposition +of Joe Hawkridge, whose youthful soul had been so +battered and toughened by dangers manifold on land +and sea that he expected nothing less. Listening to the +pirate's moving ballad, they sat and swung their legs +from the ship's taffrail while their gaze idly roved to the +green curtain of undergrowth which ran lush to the +water's edge to the northward of the beach.</p> + +<p>It was Joe who called attention to a floating object +which moved inside the mouth of the small, tidal creek +that wandered through the marshy lowlands. In the +shadowy light it could easily be mistaken for a log drifting +down on the ebb of the tide. This was what the lads +assumed it to be until they both noticed a behavior curious +in a log. The long, low object turned athwart the +current at the entrance of the creek and shot toward the +nearest bank as though strongly propelled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joe lifted the telescope from its case in front of the +wooden binnacle-box and squinted long at the edge of +the creek. Crude though the glass was, he was enabled +to discern that the object was, in truth, a log, but evidently +hollowed out. Rounded at the ends, it held two +men whose figures so blended into the dusk that they +disclosed themselves only when in motion.</p> + +<p>"A pirogue," said Joe, "and fashioned by Indians! +What is the tribe hereabouts? Have ye a guess?"</p> + +<p>"Roving Yemassees, or men of the Hatteras tribe," +answered Jack. "Yonder brace of savages will be +scouts."</p> + +<p>"Aye, but there'll be no attack 'gainst this pirates' +bivouac, right under the guns of the ships. The Indians +are too wise to attempt it."</p> + +<p>"Look, Joe! Hand me the glass. Those two spies +have quitted the pirogue. 'Tis quite empty. They +may lay up all night to creep closer and keep watch on +the camp."</p> + +<p>"Right enough, by Crambo! If we could but gain +yon cypress canoe, and steal along the coast by sail and +paddle——"</p> + +<p>"'Tis the chance we prayed for," eagerly exclaimed +Jack. "Dare we swim for it?"</p> + +<p>"Not with a boat just coming off from shore. What +if we try it in the night and find the pirogue gone?"</p> + +<p>"We are stranded for sure, and Blackbeard will +kill us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<p>Baffled, they strained their eyes until the shore stood +black in the starlight, but as long as the dusk lingered +they fancied they could descry the empty pirogue. The +ship's boat which presently drew alongside contained +Blackbeard himself and Captain Dick Spender of the +<i>Triumph</i> sloop, besides several officers of the two vessels. +They withdrew into the cabin and there was prolonged +discussion, lasting well toward midnight.</p> + +<p>It was a secretive session, with trusted men of the +boat's crew posted to keep eavesdroppers away from the +hatches and windows, nor was there any loud carousing. +Some business was afoot and Jack wondered whether it +might concern the trouble which Joe had sworn was +brewing under the surface. A circumstance even more +suspicious was that three of the sailors from the boat +were called into the cabin. Joe Hawkridge knew them +as fellows loyal to Blackbeard through thick and thin. +Drunken beasts, as a rule, they were cold sober to-night.</p> + +<p>As quietly as they had come, the whole party dropped +into the boat and returned either to the beach or to the +sloop which rode at anchor two cable-lengths away. +The <i>Revenge</i> floated with no more activity on her darkened +decks. The few men of the watch drowsed at their +stations or wistfully gazed at the fires ashore and the +mob of pirates who moved in the red glare. Jack Cockrell +and Joe Hawkridge felt no desire for sleep. As the +ship swung with the turn of the tide, they went to the +side and leaned on the tall bulwark where they might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +catch the first glimpse of the shore with the break of +day.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile they busied themselves with this wild +scheme and that. Sifting them out, it was resolved to +swim from the ship at the first opportunity. If they +could not find the Indian pirogue, Joe would try to get +into the pirates' camp by night and possess himself of an +axe, an adze, a musket or two, and such food as he could +smuggle out. Then, at a pinch, they could hide themselves +a little way inland and hew out a pirogue of their +own from a dry log. After hitting upon this plan, the +better it seemed the more they thrashed it over.</p> + +<p>Unluckily it occurred to them so late in the night that +they feared to attempt it then lest the dawn might overtake +them while they were swimming. 'Twas a great +pity, said Joe, that their wits had hung fire, like a damp +flint-lock, for this was the night when the pirates +would be the most slack and befuddled and it would be +precious hard waiting through another day. Jack +glumly agreed with this point of view.</p> + +<p>It was so near morning, however, that they lingered +to scan the shore. Then it was observed that a pearly +mist was rising from the swamp lands and spreading out +over the water. It was almost like a fog which the +morning breeze would dispel after a while. Rolling like +smoke it hung so low that the topmast of the sloop rose +above it although her hull was like the gray ghost of a +vessel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No sign of wind as yet," said Joe, holding up a +wetted finger, "and that red sunset bespoke a calm, hot +day. This odd smother o' mist may stay a couple of +hours. Will ye venture it with me, Jack?"</p> + +<p>"Gladly! Over we go, before the watch is flogged +awake by the bos'n's mate."</p> + +<p>They crept aft to the high stern and paid out a coil +of rope until it trailed in the water beneath the railed +gallery which overhung the huge rudder. Joe belayed +his end securely and slid over like a flash, twisting the +rope around one leg and letting himself down as agile +as a monkey. Without a splash he cast himself loose +and Jack followed but not so adroitly. When he +plopped into the water the commotion was like tossing a +barrel overboard, but nobody sounded an alarm.</p> + +<p>They clung to the rusty rudder chains and listened. +The ship was all quiet. Then out into the mist they +launched themselves, swimming almost submerged, +dreading to hear an outcry and the spatter of musket +balls. But the veiling mist and the uncertain light of +dawn soon protected the fugitives. It was slow, exhausting +progress, hampered as they were by their +breeches and shoes which could not be discarded. They +tried to keep a sense of direction, striking out for the +mouth of the creek in which the pirogue had been +moored, but the tide set them off the course and the only +visible marks were the spars of the ship behind them and +the sloop's topmast off to one side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> + + +<p>Jack swam more strongly and showed greater endurance +because he had the beef and had been better nourished +all his life than the scrawny young powder boy +who was more like a lath. Now and then Jack paused +to tread water while his shipmate clung to his shoulder +and husbanded his waning strength, with that indomitable +grin on his freckled phiz. Of one thing they were +thankful, that the tide was bearing them farther away +from the pirates' camp, which was now as still as though +the sleepers were dead men.</p> + +<p>"Blood and bones, but I have swum a league +a'ready," gurgled Joe during one of the halts.</p> + +<p>"Shut your mouth or you'll fill up to the hatch and +founder," scolded Jack. "I see trees in the mist. The +shore is scarce a pistol shot away."</p> + +<p>"I pray my keel scrapes soon," spluttered the waterlogged +Hawkridge as he kicked himself along in a final +effort.</p> + +<p>Huzza, their feet touched the soft ooze and they fell +over stumps and rotted trunks buried under the surface. +Scratched and beplastered with mud, they crawled +out in muck which gripped them to the knees, and +roosted like buzzards upon the butt of a prostrate live-oak.</p> + +<p>"Marooned," quoth Joe, "to be eaten by snakes and +alligators."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," snapped Master Cockrell, who had +hunted deer and wild-fowl on the Carolina coast. "We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +can pick our way with care. I have seen pleasanter +landscapes than this, but I like it better than Blackbeard's +company."</p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" width="411" height="500" alt="JACK ALMOST BUMPED INTO THE DUGOUT CANOE" title="JACK ALMOST BUMPED INTO THE DUGOUT CANOE" /> +<span class="caption">JACK ALMOST BUMPED INTO THE DUGOUT CANOE</span> +</div> + +<p>There was no disputing this statement and Joe +plucked up spirit, as was his habit when another arduous +task confronted him. Cautiously they made their way +from one quaking patch of sedge to another or scrambled +to their middles. There came a ridge of higher +ground thick with brambles and knotted vines and they +traversed this with less misery. A gleam of water +among the trees and they took it to be the creek which +they sought to find. Wary of lurking Indians, they +wormed along on their stomachs and so came to the high +swamp grass of the bank.</p> + +<p>They swam the creek and crept toward its mouth. +Jack was rooting along like a bear when he almost +bumped into the dugout canoe which had looked so very +like a stranded log. It was tied to a tree by a line of +twisted fibre and the rising tide had borne it well up into +the marsh. Here it was invisible from the ship and only +a miracle of good fortune had revealed it to the lads in +that glimpse from the deck at sundown.</p> + +<p>They crawled over the gunwale and slumped in the +bottom of the pirogue, which was larger than they expected, +a clumsy yet seaworthy craft with a wide floor +and space to crowd a dozen men. Fire had helped to +hollow it from a giant of a cypress log, for the inner +skin was charred black. Three roughly made paddles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +were discovered. This was tremendously important, +and all they lacked was a mast and sail to be true navigators.</p> + +<p>Something else they presently found which was so +unlooked for, so incredible, that they could only gape +and stare at each other. Tucked in the bow was a seaman's +jacket of tarred canvas, of the kind used in wet +weather. Sewed to the inside of it was a pocket of +leather with a buttoned flap. This Jack Cockrell proceeded +to explore, recovering from his stupefaction, and +fished out a wallet bound in sharkskin as was the habit +of sailors to make for themselves in tropic waters. It +contained nothing of value, a few scraps of paper +stitched together, a bit of coral, a lock of yellow hair, a +Spanish coin, some shreds of dried tobacco leaf.</p> + +<p>Carefully Jack examined the ragged sheets of paper +which seemed to be a carelessly jotted diary of dates and +events. Upon the last leaf was scrawled, "<i>Bill Saxby, +His Share</i>," and beneath this entry such items as these:</p> + +<div class="hang1">"Aprl. ye 17—A Spanish shippe rich laden. +1 sack Vanilla. 2 Rolls Blue Cloth of +Peru. 1 Packet Bezoar Stones.<br /></div> + +<div class="hang1">"May ye 24—A Poor Shippe. 3 Bars of +Silver. 1 Case Cordial Waters. A +Golden Candle-stick. My share by Lot +afore ye Mast."</div> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge could neither read nor write but he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +had ready knowledge of the meaning of these entries and +he cried excitedly:</p> + +<p>"Say the name again, Jack. Bill Saxby, His Share. +Strike me blind, but I was chums with Bill when we lay +off Honduras. As decent a lad as ever went a-piratin'! +A heart of oak is Bill, hailin' from London town."</p> + +<p>"But what of the riddle?" impatiently demanded +Jack. "Whence this Indian pirogue? And where is +Bill Saxby?"</p> + +<p>"He sailed with Stede Bonnet, bless ye," answered +Joe. "These two men we spied in the canoe last night +were no Indians. <i>They were Cap'n Bonnet's men.</i> +Indians would ha' hid the pirogue more craftily."</p> + +<p>"But they came not along the coast. Did they drop +down this creek from somewhere inland?"</p> + +<p>"There you put me in stays," confessed Joe. "One +thing I can swear. They were sent to look for Blackbeard's +ships. And I sore mistrust they were caught +whilst prowling near the camp. Else they would ha' +come back to the canoe before day."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>THE EPISODE OF THE WINDING CREEK</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HE singular discovery of Bill Saxby's jacket +was like a shock to drive all else out of their +minds. Now they found that it had been +thrown over a jug of water and a bag of beef and biscuit +stowed in the bow. This solved one pressing problem, +and they nibbled the hard ration while debating the situation. +It was agreed that they could not honorably run +away with the pirogue if it really belonged to Stede +Bonnet's men, who must have come on foot along the +higher ground back of the coast and descended the creek +in the canoe stolen or purchased from Indians met by +chance.</div> + +<p>Granted this much, it was fair to conjecture that Captain +Bonnet's ship was in some harbor not many leagues +distant and that he knew where to find Blackbeard's rendezvous, +at Cherokee Inlet.</p> + +<p>"'Tis your job to stand by the pirogue, Jack," suggested +Hawkridge, "and I will make a sally toward the +pirates' camp afore they rouse out."</p> + +<p>"Go softly, Joe, and don't be reckless. Why not lie +up till night before you reconnoitre?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Cause the mist still hangs heavy and I'm blowed if +I dilly-dally if good Bill Saxby has come to grief."</p> + +<p>"Supposing he has, you cannot wrest him single-handed +from Blackbeard's crew."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I can but slip a word of comfort in his ear, +it'll cheer him mightily, unless his throat be cut by now," +was the stubborn response. "Sit thee taut, Jack, old +<i>camarada</i>, and chuck the worry. Care killed a cat. +These rogues yonder in the camp won't <i>molest me</i> if I +walk boldly amongst 'em."</p> + +<p>"What if you don't return?" persisted Jack. "How +long shall I wait here with the pirogue?"</p> + +<p>"Now what the deuce can I say to such foolish +queries? If things go wrong with me and Bill and his +mate, you will have to cruise alone or hop back to the +<i>Revenge</i>."</p> + +<p>With a laugh and a wave of the hand, the dauntless +adventurer leaped from the nose of the canoe, nimbly +hauled himself into a tree, and then plunged into the +gloomy swamp where he was speedily lost to view. Jack +Cockrell settled himself to wait for he knew not what. +Clouds of midges and mosquitoes tormented him and he +ached with fatigue. Soon after sunrise the mist began +to burn away and the mouth of the creek was no longer +obscured by shadows. In the glare of day Jack thought +it likely that the canoe might be detected by some pair +of keen eyes aboard the <i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>To move it far might imperil Joe Hawkridge and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +Bonnet's two seamen should they come in haste with a +hue-and-cry behind them. Jack paddled the pirogue +up the creek and soon found a safe ambuscade, a stagnant +cove in among the dense growth, where he tied up +to a gnarled root. Then he climbed a wide-branching +oak and propped himself in a crotch from which he could +see the open water and the two vessels at anchor. +Clumps of taller trees cut off any view of the beach and +the camp but he dared stray no farther from the pirogue.</p> + +<p>Tediously an hour passed and there was no sign of +Joe Hawkridge. He had a journey of only a few hundred +yards to make, and Jack began to imagine all kinds +of misfortune that might have befallen him, such as being +mired beyond his depth in the swamp and perishing +miserably. The sensible conclusion was, however, that +he had tarried among his shipmates in the camp with +some shrewd purpose in mind.</p> + +<p>A little later in the morning, Jack's anxious cogitations +were diverted by the frequent passage of boats between +the <i>Revenge</i> and the sloop which was anchored +nearer the beach. One of these small craft was Blackbeard's +own cock-boat, or captain's gig, which he used +for errands in smooth water, with a couple of men to +pull it. Jack was reminded of that secret conference in +the cabin and Joe's conviction that some uncommon devilment +was afoot. It appeared as though "Tallow +Dick" Spender, that unwholesome master of the <i>Triumph</i> +sloop, had been chosen as the right bower.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now there arose a sudden and riotous noise in the +camp. It was not the mirth and song of jolly pirates +a-pleasuring ashore but the ferocious tumult of men in +conflict and taken unawares. Perched in the tree, Jack +Cockrell listened all agog as the sounds rose and fell +with the breeze which swayed the long gray moss that +draped the branches. He heard a few pistol shots and +then was startled to see a spurt of flame dart from a +gun-port of the sloop. The dull report reached him an +instant later. He could see that the gun had been fired +from the vessel's shoreward battery. It meant that +Blackbeard was making a target of some part of the +camp. Another gun belched its cloud of smoke.</p> + +<p>The noise died down, save for intermittent shouts and +one long wail of anguish. Presently a boat moved out +past the sloop. A dozen men tugged at the oars and +others stood crowded in the stern-sheets. Jack caught +the gleam of weapons and thought he recognized the +squat, broad figure of Blackbeard himself beside the +man at the steering oar. Behind this pinnace from the +<i>Revenge</i> trailed two other boats in tow. They passed +in slow procession, out between the vessels. The boats +which the pinnace towed were not empty. Instead of +sitting upon the thwarts, men seemed to be strewn about +in them as if they had been tossed over the gunwales like +so much dunnage.</p> + +<p>Jack rubbed his eyes in amazement and watched the +line of boats turn to follow the channel which led out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +the sheltered roadstead to the sea beyond. When they +vanished beyond a sandy island, the lad in the live-oak +tree said to himself:</p> + +<p>"My guess is that Blackbeard has put a stopper on +all talk of mutiny by one bold stroke. A bloody weeding-out, +and in those two boats are the poor wretches +who were taken alive. Alas, one of 'em may be Joe +Hawkridge unless he be dead already. He talked too +much of Stede Bonnet aboard the ship. And there were +sneaking dogs in the crew who spied on their comrades. +We saw them enter the cabin last night."</p> + +<p>There was no getting around the evidence. It fitted +together all too well. Jack sadly reflected that, beyond +a doubt, he had seen the last of gallant, loyal Joe Hawkridge. +Left alone with the pirogue, which he could not +paddle single-handed, it was folly to think of trying to +escape along the coast. And to wander inland, ignorant +of the country, was to court almost certain death. +Nor could he now expect mercy from Blackbeard, having +deserted the ship against orders and known to be a +true friend of Captain Stede Bonnet.</p> + +<p>The most unhappy lad could no longer hold his +cramped station in the tree and he decided to seek the +canoe and find the meagre solace of a little food and +water. He was half-way to the ground when he clutched +a limb and halted to peer into the swamp. Something +was splashing through the mud and grass and making a +prodigious fuss about it. Then Jack heard two voices<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +in grunts and maledictions. Fearing the enemy might +have tracked him, he stood as still as a mouse in the leafage +of the oak.</p> + +<p>Out of the swamp emerged a young man with a musket +on his shoulder. Behind him came one very much +older, gaunt and wrinkled, his hair as gray as the Spanish +moss that overhung his path. They reached the edge +of the creek and then turned down to halt where the +pirogue had been left. At failing to find it there, they +argued hotly and were much distressed. Jack Cockrell's +fears were calmed. These were no men of Blackbeard's +company, but good Bill Saxby and his mate. +He called to them from his perch and they stood wondering +at this voice from heaven.</p> + +<p>In a jiffy Jack had slid down and was beckoning +them. They hurried as fast as they could pull their +feet out of the muck, and were overjoyed to jump into +the hidden canoe. There they sat and thumped Jack +Cockrell on the head by way of affectionate greeting. +The younger man had a chubby cheek, a dimple in his +chin, and blue eyes as big and round as a babe's.</p> + +<p>"Bill Saxby is me," said his pleasant voice, "and a +precious job had I to get here. Joe Hawkridge told me +of you, Master Cockrell."</p> + +<p>"Where is Joe?" cried Jack, dreading to hear his +own opinion confirmed.</p> + +<p>"Marooned, along with two dozen luckless lads that +were trapped like pigeons——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Twas more like turtles all a-sleepin' in the sand," +the old man croaked in rusty accents. "A few was +sharp awake and they fought pretty whilst the rest rallied, +but they got drove with their backs to the swamp +and a deep slough. Then the sloop turned her guns on +'em and they struck their colors."</p> + +<p>"And Joe Hawkridge sided with his friends, of +course," said Jack.</p> + +<p>"Would ye expect aught else of him?" proudly answered +Bill Saxby. "He searched us out where we lay +trussed like fowls, all bound with ropes. We blundered +fair into the camp last night, and old Trimble Rogers +here, his legs knotted with cramps, couldn't make a run +for it. They saved us for Blackbeard's pleasure but he +had other fish to fry."</p> + +<p>"What then?" demanded Jack.</p> + +<p>"'Twas Joe Hawkridge that ran to cut our bonds +when the fight began. And he bade us leg it for the +pirogue and carry word to you. A pledge of honor, he +called it, to stand by his dear friend Jack, and he made +us swear it."</p> + +<p>"Bless him for a Christian knight of a pirate," said +Jack, with tears in his eyes. "Was he hurt, did ye +happen to note?"</p> + +<p>"We hid ourselves till the prisoners were flung into +the boats. I marked Joe as one of 'em, and he was +sprightly, barring a bloody face."</p> + +<p>"Marooned, Bill Saxby?" asked Jack. "What's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +your judgment on that score? It cannot be many +leagues from here, or the ship would have transported +them instead of the boats."</p> + +<p>"These barren islands lie strung well out from the +coast, Master Cockrell. Waterless they be, and without +shelter. Blackbeard's fancy is to let the men die +there——"</p> + +<p>"An ancient custom of buccaneers and pirates," put +in old Trimble Rogers, with an air of grave authority. +"I mind me in the year of 1687 when I sailed in the +South Sea with that great captain, Edward Davis,—'twas +after the sack of Guayaquil when every man had a +greater weight of gold and silver than he could lug on +his back——"</p> + +<p>Bill Saxby interrupted, in a petulant manner:</p> + +<p>"Stow it, grandsire! At a better time ye can please +the lad with your long-winded yarns,—of marching on +Panama with Henry Morgan when the mother's milk +was scarce dry on your lips."</p> + +<p>"I cruised with the best of 'em," boasted the last of +the storied race of true buccaneers of the Spanish Main, +"and now I be in this cheap trade of piratin'. The fortunes +I gamed away, and the plate ships I boarded! +Take warnin', boy, and salt your treasure down."</p> + +<p>"This Trimble Rogers will talk you deaf," said Bill +Saxby, "but there's pith in his old bones and wisdom +under yon hoary thatch. Cap'n Bonnet sent him along +with me as a rare old hound to trail the swamps."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a vivid flash of remembrance, Jack Cockrell saw +this salty relic of the Spanish Main among the crew +which had disported itself on the tavern green at Charles +Town,—the old man sitting aside with a couple of stray +children upon his knees while his head nodded to the lilt +of the fiddle. And again there had been a glimpse of +him trudging in the column which had followed Stede +Bonnet, with trumpet and drum, to attack the hostile +Indians. Jack's heart warmed to Trimble Rogers and +also to young Bill Saxby. They would find some way +out of all this tribulation.</p> + +<p>"Whither lies Captain Bonnet's stout ship?" eagerly +demanded Jack.</p> + +<p>"On this side the Western Ocean," smiled Saxby. +"We shall waste no time in finding her. We had better +bide where we are a few hours, eh, Trimble?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, and double back up the stream in the canoe to +spend the night on dry land and push on afoot at dawn. +If we wait to sight Blackbeard's boats come in from sea, +'twill aid us to reckon how far out they went and what +the bearings are."</p> + +<p>"So Captain Bonnet may sail to pick off those poor +seamen marooned," exclaimed Jack.</p> + +<p>"He is not apt to leave 'em to bleach their bones," +said Bill Saxby. "And when it comes to closing in with +Blackbeard, they will have a grudge of their own."</p> + +<p>They made themselves as comfortable as possible on +the bottom of the pirogue. Now and then Jack climbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +the live-oak to look for the return of the boats. There +was no more leisure for the pirates left in the ship and +the sloop. Evidently Blackbeard had been alarmed by +the tidings that two of Stede Bonnet's men had been +caught spying him out and had made their escape in the +confusion. The sloop was now listed over in shoal +water and Bill Saxby ventured the opinion that they +intended to take the mast out of her and put it in the +<i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>"Along with most of her guns, I take it," said Trimble +Rogers. "What with losing all those men, in one way +or another, this Blackbeard, as Cap'n Ed'ard Teach miscalls +hisself, must needs abandon the sloop. The more +the merrier, says I, when we come at close quarters."</p> + +<p>Jack asked many curious questions, by way of passing +the time. The old man was easy to read. He had been +a lawless sea rover in the days when there was both gold +and glory in harrying Spanish towns and galleons, from +Mexico to Peru. The real buccaneers had vanished but +he was too old a dog to learn new tricks and he faithfully +served Stede Bonnet, who had a spark of the chivalry +and manliness which had burned so brightly in that idolized +master, Captain Edward Davis.</p> + +<p>As for this blue-eyed smiling young Bill Saxby, he +had been a small tradesman in London. Through no +fault of his own, he was cruelly imprisoned for debt and, +after two years, shipped to the Carolina plantations as +no better than a slave. For all he knew, the girl wife<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +and child in London had been suffered to starve. He +had never heard any word of them. As a fugitive he +had been taken aboard a pirate vessel. There he found +kindlier treatment than honest men had ever offered him, +and so grew somewhat reconciled to this wicked calling.</p> + +<p>On one of the occasions when Jack left these entertaining +companions to visit his high sentry post in the +tree, he surmised that all hands had been summoned on +the vessel and lifting out her mast. He could see two +boats plying back and forth and filled with men. He +lingered because something else caught his interest. +A little boat was putting out from the seaward side of +the <i>Revenge</i> and it fetched a wide circuit of the harbor. +This brought the ship between it and the sloop +so that its departure would be unobserved by the toiling +crew.</p> + +<p>Two men were at the oars and a third sat in the stern. +At a distance, Jack guessed they were bound to one of +the nearest islands, perhaps in search of oysters or crabs, +but after making a long sweep which carried the boat +out of vision of the sloop and the beach, it swung toward +the shore, a little to the northward of the mouth of the +creek. The errand had a stealthy air. Jack Cockrell +started and almost fell out of the tree. He had been +mistaken in his fancy that Blackbeard was in the pinnace +which had towed the prisoners out to be marooned. +This was none other than the grotesque fiend of a pirate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +himself, furtively steering his cock-boat on some private +errand of his own.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was certain of this, Jack fairly scurried +down the tree, digging his toes in the bark like a squirrel, +and tumbling head over heels into the pirogue. Breathing +rapidly, he stuttered:</p> + +<p>"The—the devil himself,—in that little w-wherry of +his,—c-coming inshore. He must ha' seen the canoe. +He is in chase of me."</p> + +<p>"Go take a look, Bill," coolly remarked old Trimble +Rogers, who was busy slapping at mosquitoes. "A +touch o' the sun has bred a nightmare in the lad."</p> + +<p>Bill Saxby swarmed up the live-oak like a limber seaman +with fish-hooks for fingers and he, too, almost lost +his balance at what he saw. He waved a warning hand +at the canoe and then put his fingers to his lips. Down +he came in breakneck haste and urged the others to haul +their craft farther up into the sedge. He was plucking +green bushes and armfuls of dried grass to fling across +the gunwales.</p> + +<p>Satisfied that the canoe was entirely concealed, they +crouched low. The old man was more concerned with +the pest of insects and he reached out to claw up the +sticky mud with which he plastered his face and neck +like a mask. This seemed to give him some relief and +his comrades were glad to do the same. Bill Saxby was +attentive to the priming of the musket, which he passed +over to Trimble Rogers, saying:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are the chief gunner, old hawk. But hold your +fire. I'm itching to know what trick this Don Whiskerando +is up to."</p> + +<p>"Fair enough," muttered the old man. "Cap'n +Bonnet 'ud clap me in irons if I slew this filthy Ed'ard +Teach and robbed him of that enjoyment. I'll pull no +trigger save in our own defense."</p> + +<p>They heard the faint splash of oars. Soon the little +cock-boat came gliding around the bend of the shore and +floated into the mouth of the creek. Bill Saxby raised +himself for a moment and ducked swiftly as he whispered:</p> + +<p>"He is not lookin' about but motions 'em to row on +up the stream."</p> + +<p>"Then our canoe is not what he's after?" murmured +Jack.</p> + +<p>"'Tis some queer game. Were he hunting us, he'd +fetch along more hands than them two. Hush! Let +him pass."</p> + +<p>The little boat came steadily on, the tide helping the +oars. It sat very low in the water, oddly so for the +weight of three men. Blackbeard, hunched in the stern, +held a pistol in one hand while the other gripped the +tiller. This was not in fear of danger from the shore +because he kept his eyes on the two seamen at the oars +and it was plain to see that the pistol was meant to menace +them.</p> + +<p>The boat passed abreast of the pirogue so artfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +concealed in the pocket of a tiny cove. The intervening +distance was no more than a dozen yards. Old Trimble +Rogers wistfully fingered the musket and lifted it to +squint along the barrel. Never was temptation more +sturdily resisted. Then his face, hard as iron and puckered +like dried leather, broke into a smile. The idea +pleased him immensely. They would follow Blackbeard +and watch the chance to take him alive. He who +had trapped his own men in camp was now neatly +trapped himself, his retreat cut off. Tie a couple of +fathom of stout cord to his whiskers and tow him along +by land, all the way to Stede Bonnet's ship. There the +worthy captain could bargain with him at his own terms, +silently chuckled the old buccaneer.</p> + +<p>They held their breath and gazed at the fantastic +scoundrel who had made himself the ogre among pirates. +He had discarded the great hat as cumbersome and his +tousled head was bound around with a wide strip of the +red calico from India. Still and solid he sat, like a +heathen idol, staring in front of him and intent on his +mysterious errand. The unseen spectators in the +pirogue scanned also the two seamen at the oars and felt +a vague pity for them. Unmistakably they were sick +with fear. It was conveyed by their dejected aspect, +by the tinge of pallor, by the fixity with which they +regarded the cocked pistol in Blackbeard's fist. Jack +Cockrell knew them as abandoned villains who had +boasted of many a bloody deed but the swarthy, pock<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>marked +fellow had been in the boat which had saved the +two lads from the drifting raft. This was enough to +awaken a lively sympathy.</p> + +<p>Trimble Rogers gripped Jack's shoulder with a +strength which made him wince and pointed a skinny +finger at the boat. The fate of the two seamen did not +trouble him greatly. Those who lived by violence should +rightly expect to die by it. The sea was their gaming +table and it was their ill luck if the dice were cogged. +Just then Bill Saxby stifled an ejaculation. He, too, +had discovered the freightage in the cock-boat, the heavy +burden which made it swim so low.</p> + +<p>It rested in front of Blackbeard's knees, the top showing +above the curve of the gunwales. It was a sea-chest, +uncommonly large, built of some dark tropical wood and +strapped with iron. Old Trimble Rogers' fierce eyes +glittered and he licked his lips. He leaned over to +whisper in Bill Saxby's ear the one word:</p> + +<p>"<i>Treasure!</i>"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>BLACKBEARD'S ERRAND IS INTERRUPTED</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>B</big>LACKBEARD'S deep-laden boat was rowed on +past the pirogue and turned to follow the channel +of the sluggish stream. Bill Saxby thrust aside +the cover of grass and boughs and shoved the log canoe +out of the cove. So crooked was the course of the creek +that the boat was already out of sight and by stealthy +paddling it was possible to pursue undetected. Old +Trimble Rogers had forgotten his lust to slay Blackbeard. +His gloating imagination could picture the contents +of that massive sea-chest after a long cruise in +southern waters.</div> + +<p>It was foolish to attempt to surprise Blackbeard while +afloat in the creek. In a race of it, the handy cock-boat +could pull away from the clumsier pirogue manned by +two paddles only, for Trimble Rogers was needed to +steer and be ready with the musket. This was their only +firearm, which Bill Saxby had snatched up during the +flight from the camp. At the same time he had lifted +a powder-horn and bullet pouch from a wounded pirate.</p> + +<p>"If I do bang away and miss him," grumbled Trimble +Rogers, "he's apt to pepper us afore I can reload."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But you forswore shootin' him," chided Bill Saxby, +between strokes of the paddle.</p> + +<p>"Show me a great sea-chest crammed wi' treasure and +I'd put a hole through the Grand High Panjandrum +hisself," replied the ancient one. "Aye, Bill, there be +more'n one way to skin an eel. We'll lay aboard this +bloody blow-hard of a Cap'n Teach whilst he's a-buryin' +of it. Here may well be where he has tucked away his +other plunder. What if we bag the whole of it?"</p> + +<p>"One more fling, eh, Trimble, and more gold than ye +lugged on your back from Guayaquil," grinned young +Bill.</p> + +<p>They had spoken in cautious tones and now held their +tongues. The paddles dipped with no more than a +trickle of water and the canoe hugged the marsh. They +were close to the next bend of the stream and the sound +of the oars in the cock-boat was faintly audible. As the +tallest of the three, the old man stood up after swathing +his head in dried grass, and gazed across the curve of the +shore. By signs he told his companions that Blackbeard +was bound farther up the stream.</p> + +<p>They waited a little, giving their quarry time to pass +beyond another turn of the channel. Jack Cockrell was +embarked on the most entrancing excursion of his life. +This repaid him for all he had suffered. His only regret +was that poor Joe Hawkridge had been marooned +before he could share this golden adventure. However, +he would see that Joe received a handsome amount of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +treasure. Trimble Rogers was muttering again, and +thus he angrily expounded a grievance:</p> + +<p>"A thief is this Cap'n Teach,—like a wild hog, all +greed and bristles. 'Tis the custom of honest buccaneers +and pirates to divide the spoils by the strict rule,—six +shares for the commander, two for the master's mate, +and other officers accordin' to their employment, with +one share to every seaman alike. Think ye this bloody +pick-purse dealt fairly by his crew? In yon sea-chest be +the lawful shares of all the woesome lads he marooned +this day. An' as much more as he durst skulk away +with."</p> + +<p>"Easy, now, old Fire-and-Brimstone," warned Bill, +"or that temper will gain the upper hand. Don't spoil +the show by bombardin' Blackbeard with that cross-eyed +musket."</p> + +<p>Now here was young Master Cockrell, a gentleman +and a near kinsman of a high official who had sworn to +hang every mother's son of a pirate that harried Carolina +waters. And yet this godly youth was eager to lay +hands on Blackbeard's treasure so as to divide it among +the pirates who had been robbed of it. It was a twisted +sense of justice, no doubt, and a code of morals turned +topsy-turvy, but you are entreated to think not too +harshly of such behavior. Master Cockrell had fallen +into almighty bad company but the friends he had made +displayed fidelity and readiness to serve him.</p> + +<p>"How far will the chase lead us?" he inquired.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you men come down this same creek in the +pirogue?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, in this very same mess o' pea soup and jungle," +answered Bill Saxby. "Two miles in from the coast, at +a venture, was where we stumbled on the canoe and +tossed the Indians out of it. Beyond that the water +spreads o'er the swamp with no fairway for a boat."</p> + +<p>Once more they paddled for a short stretch and then +repeated the stratagem of hauling into the dense growth +of the mud-flat and pausing until the cock-boat had +steered beyond the next elbow of the stream. It became +more and more difficult to avoid the fallen trees and +other obstructions, but Blackbeard was threading his +course like a pilot acquainted with this dank and somber +region. The pirogue ceased to lag purposely but had to +be urged in order to keep within striking distance.</p> + +<p>Twice they were compelled to climb out and shove +clear of sunken entanglements or slimy shoals. But +when they held themselves to listen, they could still hear +the measured thump of oars against the pins, like the +beat of a distant drum in the brooding silence of this +melancholy solitude. They had struggled on for perhaps +a mile and a half, in all, when Trimble Rogers ordered +another halt. He was perplexed, like a hound +uncertain of the scent. From the left bank of the creek, +a smaller stream meandered blindly off into the swamp. +Into which of these watercourses had Blackbeard continued +his secret voyage?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again they listened, and more anxiously than ever. +The tell-tale thump of the oars had ceased. The only +sounds in the bayou were the trickle of water from the +tidal pools, the wind in the tree-tops, the rat-tat-tat of a +woodpecker, and the scream of a bob-cat. With a foolish +air of chagrin, Trimble Rogers rubbed his hoary pate +and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Whilst Bill and me were a-paddlin' this hollow log +down-stream, we took no heed of a fork like this yonder. +With the sun at our backs to guide us, we knew we was +makin' easterly to fetch the coast. What say, Bill?"</p> + +<p>"Cursed if I know. Spin a coin. The treasure has +slipped us."</p> + +<p>"Rot me if it has!" snarled the old man. "We'll +push on as we are, in the bigger stream. That stinkin' +ditch on my left hand looks too weedy and shallow to +float a boat."</p> + +<p>"It makes no odds. A gamester's choice," amiably +agreed Bill.</p> + +<p>They paddled with might and main, flinging caution +to the winds. Jack Cockrell was well versed in handling +one of these dugout canoes and his stout arms made Bill +Saxby grunt and sweat to keep stroke with him. When +the craft grounded they strove like madmen to push it +clear. Trimble Rogers tore the water with a paddle, +straining every sinew and condemning Blackbeard to +the bottomless pit in a queer jargon of the Spanish, +French, and English tongues. It required such a lurid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +vocabulary to give vent to his feelings. He was even +more distressed when he sighted the clump of gum trees +near by which he and Bill had purloined the pirogue. +Beyond this the creek was impassable.</p> + +<p>"Throwed a blank! Wear ship and drive back to the +fork o' the waters," shouted the old man. "Hull down +an' under though he be, we'll nab yon <i>picaro</i>, with his +jolly treasure. <i>Rapido, camaradas! Vivo!</i>"</p> + +<p>To make haste was easier said than done but the sluggish +current was now in their favor and there was no +more than a half mile to traverse under stress of furious +exertion. The heavy canoe crashed through obstacles +which had delayed the upward journey and they knew +where to avoid the worst of the shoals. What fretted +them was the fear that Blackbeard might have buried the +sea-chest and descended the creek while they were engaged +in this wild-goose chase. But this seemed unlikely +and, moreover, old Trimble Rogers was the man +to nose out the marks of the landing-place and the trail +which must have been left.</p> + +<p>Where the two streams joined, the pirogue turned +and shot into the smaller one. To their surprise it presently +widened and was like a tiny lagoon, with the water +much clearer as if fed by springs. The view was less +broken and there were glimpses of dry knolls in the +swamp and verdure not so noxious and tanglesome. +Along the edge of this pretty pond skimmed the pirogue +while Trimble Rogers keenly scanned every inch of it for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +the imprint of a boat's keel. A hundred yards and the +water again narrowed to a little creek. Impetuously +the canoe swung to pass around a spit of land covered +with a thicket of sweet bay.</p> + +<p>There, no more than a dozen feet beyond, was the captain's +cock-boat from the <i>Revenge</i>. Its bow had been +pulled out of the water which deepened from a shelving +bank. The boat was deserted but above the gunwale +could be seen the iron-bound lid of the massive sea-chest. +Those in the pirogue desired to behold nothing else. +They were suddenly diverted by a tremendous yell which +came booming out of the tall grass where it waved +breast-high on the shore of the stream. A pistol barked +and the ball clipped a straggling lock of Trimble Rogers' +gray hair.</p> + +<p>Driving his two seamen before him, Blackbeard +rushed for his boat as fast as the bandy legs and clumsy +sea-boots could carry him. In fancied security he had +explored the nearest knoll. And now appeared this infernal +canoe, surging full-tilt at his treasure chest.</p> + +<p>Things happened <i>rapido</i> enough to glut even an old +buccaneer. The consternation in the pirogue prevented +any thought of checking headway with the paddles. +This hollowed cypress log, narrow beamed and solid at +both ends, still moved with a weighty momentum. Its +astounded crew were otherwise occupied. Blackbeard +appeared to have the advantage of them. Jack Cockrell +ducked to the bottom of the canoe. Bill Saxby's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +eyes of baby blue were big and round as saucers as he +wildly flourished his paddle as the only cudgel at hand.</p> + +<p>With a whoop-la, old Trimble Rogers leaped to his +feet, the long musket at his shoulder. Before he could +aim at the savage, bushy figure of Blackbeard, the prow +of the pirogue crashed into the side of the cock-boat, +striking it well toward the stern. The ancient freebooter +described a somersault and smote the water with a +mighty splash, musket and all. Blowing like a grampus, +he bobbed to the top, clawing the weeds from his eyes +but still clutching the musket. Nobody paid his misfortune +the slightest heed.</p> + +<p>The water deepened suddenly, as has been said, where +the current had scoured the bank. With the nose of the +little boat pulled well up in the mud, the stern sloped +almost level with the surface of the stream. The blunt, +slanting bow of the pirogue banged into the plank gunwale +and slid over it. The force of the blow dragged the +cock-boat to one side and wrenched it free of the shore. +It floated at the end of a tether but the bow of the canoe +pressed the stern under and tipped it until the water +rushed in.</p> + +<p>Listed far over, the sea-chest slid a trifle and this was +enough to push the gunwale clear under. The boat +filled and capsized, what with the weight of the chest and +the pressure of the canoe's fore part. Down to the oozy +bed sank Blackbeard's treasure.</p> + +<p>The arch-pirate himself came charging out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +marsh-grass in time to witness this lamentable disaster. +His hoarse ejaculations were too dreadful for a Christian +reader's ears. Dumfounded for an instant, he gathered +his wits to fire another pistol at the pirogue. The ball +flew wild, as was to be expected of a marksman in a state +of mind so distraught. He had overlooked those two +poor seamen of his who had been impressed to bury the +treasure, after which they were presumably to be pistoled +or knocked on the head. Dead men told no tales. +Doomed wretches, they were quick to snatch from this +confusion the precious hope of life.</p> + +<p>The pockmarked fellow, who was powerfully built, +whirled like a cat as he heard Blackbeard's pistol discharged +just behind him. There was no time to draw +and cock another pistol. The seaman fairly flew at the +pirate captain's throat. Down they toppled and vanished +in the grass together. A moment later Blackbeard +bounded to his feet, a bloody dirk in his hand. He had +done for the poor fellow who lay groaning where he fell. +Terrified by this, the other seaman wheeled and fled to +the bank of the creek, seeking the pirogue as his only +refuge.</p> + +<p>He leaped for it but his feet slipped in the treacherous +mud and his impetus was checked so that he tumbled +forward, striking the solid side of the dugout with great +force. He was splashing in the water but his exertions +were feeble. Either the collision had stunned him or he +was unable to swim. Bill Saxby and Jack Cockrell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +were trying to swing the canoe clear of the boat and +effect a landing. Trimble Rogers had rescued himself +from the creek and was ramming a dry charge into his +dripping musket. Blackbeard was a deadly menace and +their attention was fixed on him.</p> + +<p>When they endeavored to lend a hand to the helpless +seaman he had sunk beneath the surface of the roily +stream. They saw him come up and turn a ghastly face +to them, but he went down like a stone before a hand +could clutch at him. A few bubbles and this was the +end of him. Jack Cockrell hesitated with a brave impulse +to dive in search of him although he knew the bottom +was a tangle of rotted trees, but just then Bill +Saxby yelled to him to follow ashore with a paddle for a +weapon. The luckless seaman was already drowned, +this was as good as certain, and Jack jumped from the +pirogue.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard had halted his onrush and he wavered +when he beheld stout Bill Saxby within a few strides of +him and long Trimble Rogers galloping through the +grass with his musket. Another pistol shot or two would +not stop these three antagonists and a buffet from one of +those hewn paddles would dash out a man's brains. The +most ferocious of all pirates for once preferred to run +away and live to fight another day. His boat denied +him, he whirled about to plunge through the tall, matted +grass. He was running in the direction of the dry knoll +whence he had appeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>Infuriated by the fate of the two seamen, Trimble +Rogers made a try at shooting him on the wing but the +musket ball failed to find the mark. It was necessary to +hunt him down for the sake of their own safety. They +might have gone their way in the pirogue but this would +have been to abandon the sea-chest without an effort to +drag it up or fix its location.</p> + +<p>Now it might seem an easy matter for these pursuers, +two of them young and active, to run down this fugitive +Blackbeard, encumbered as he was by middle age and +dissipation. They put after him boldly, with little fear +of his pistols. In this dense cover he would have to fire +at them haphazard and he was unlikely to tarry and wait +for them. They saw him in glimpses as he fled from one +grassy patch to another, or burst out of a leafy thicket, +the great beard streaming over his shoulders like studding-sails, +the red turban of calico a vivid blotch of color.</p> + +<p>Nimble as they were, however, they failed to overtake +him. This was because he was familiar with this landscape +of bog and hummock and pine knoll. Jack Cockrell +fell into a hidden quagmire and had to be fished out +by main strength. Bill Saxby was caught amidst the +tenacious vines, like a bull by the horns, and old Trimble +came a cropper in a patch of saw-tooth palmetto. +They straggled to the nearest knoll after Blackbeard +had crossed it. Then he followed a ridge which led in +the direction of another of these dry islands.</p> + +<p>The pursuers halted to gaze from this slight elevation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +There was not a solitary glimpse of the crimson turban. +Trimble Rogers plowed through the prickly ash, short +of wind and temper, with the musket again ready for +action. His language was hot enough to flash the powder +in the pan.</p> + +<p>"Lost him a'ready, ye lubbers, whilst I fetched up the +rear?" he scolded. "Leave the old dog to find the trail. +I be hanged if I take him alive for Stede Bonnet. What +say, Bill? Skin and stuff him for a trophy——"</p> + +<p>"First catch the slippery son o' Satan," tartly answered +Bill. "He hides away like a hare. You can +track him, no doubt, Trimble, but the sun will be down +ere long. I'll not pass the night in this cursed puddle +of a place."</p> + +<p>Just then Jack Cockrell roved far enough to find on +the knoll a small pit freshly dug, with a spade and pick +beside it. Like excited children, his two comrades ran +to inspect the hole which Blackbeard's seamen had dug +ready for the treasure chest. Then they scattered to +explore the knoll in search of signs to indicate where +previous hoards might have been buried. Trimble +Rogers scouted like a red Indian, eager to find traces of +upturned earth, or the leaf mould disturbed, or marks +of an axe on the pine trees as symbols of secret guidance. +It was a futile quest, possibly because the high spring +tides, when swept by easterly gales, had now and then +crept back from the coast to cover the knoll and obliterate +man's handiwork.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>Like a hunter bewitched, the gray buccaneer was absorbed +in this rare pastime until Bill Saxby exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Is there no wit in our addled pates? Quit this +dashed folly! What of the treasure chest that was +spilled from the boat?"</p> + +<p>"It won't take wings. Wait a bit," growled Trimble. +"<i>Madre de Dios</i>, but there must be more of it +here. This truant Cap'n Teach knew the road well. +Did ye mark how he doubled for the knoll, like a fox to +its hole?"</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell ended the argument when he spoke up, +with a shamefaced air:</p> + +<p>"We are three heartless men! One of the seamen is +drowned, rest his soul, and we could not save the poor +wretch. But the other fellow was stabbed and lies in the +grass near the stream. For all we know, there may be +life in him."</p> + +<p>"Heartless? 'Tis monstrous of us," cried Bill Saxby. +"This greed for pirates' gold is like a poison."</p> + +<p>They hastened to retrace their steps. The wounded +seaman was breathing his last when they reached his side. +They could not have prolonged his life had they remained +with him. Jack Cockrell stroked his damp forehead +and murmured:</p> + +<p>"Farewell to ye, Jesse Strawn. Any message before +you slip your cable?"</p> + +<p>There was a faint whisper of:</p> + +<p>"Scuppered, lad! Take warnin' and avast this cruel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +piratin' or you'll get it. A few words from the Bible +'ud ease me off."</p> + +<p>To Jack's amazement, the veteran sinner of the lot, +old Trimble Rogers, fumbled in his breeches and withdrew +a small book carefully wrapped in canvas. Solemnly +he hooked behind his ears a pair of huge, horn-rimmed +spectacles and knelt beside the dying pirate. In +the manner of a priest the buccaneer intoned a chapter +of Holy Writ which he appeared to know by rote. Then +he said a prayer in a powerful broken voice. Silence +followed. The others waited with bared heads until +Trimble said:</p> + +<p>"His soul has passed. Shall we give the poor lad a +decent burial?"</p> + +<p>"His grave is ready. He helped dig it himself," said +Bill Saxby. "And may his ghost be a torment to the +fiend that slew him."</p> + +<p>It seemed a fitting suggestion. In the freshly made +treasure pit on the knoll they laid the dead pirate and +used the spade to cover him. Jack Cockrell had a sheath +knife with which he fashioned a rude cross and hacked +on it:</p> + +<div class='center'> +JESSE STRAWN<br /> +A. D. 1718<br /> +</div> + +<p>"Aye, his ghost will flit to plague this Cap'n Teach," +said Trimble Rogers. "We can leave Jesse Strawn to +square his own account. Now for the sea-chest, though +I misdoubt we can fish it up."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE SEA URCHIN AND THE CARPENTER'S MATE</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>F</big>OR the sake of a treasure sordid and blood-stained, +it would seem shabby to overlook the fate +of hapless Joe Hawkridge marooned along with +the hands of the <i>Revenge</i> who were suspected of plotting +mutiny. His behavior was courageous and unselfish, +for he could have fled back into the swamp when +Blackbeard's wily attack threw the camp into tumult. +From a sense of duty he flung himself into the fray. +What friends he had in the ship were those of the decenter +sort who were tired of wanton brutalities and of +a master who was no better than a lunatic.</div> + +<p>When the sloop opened fire with her guns, it was time +to surrender. Unhurt save for a few scratches and a +gorgeous black eye, Joe was dragged to the beach and +thrown into a boat. Promptly the armed pinnace took +them in tow, as arranged beforehand. Several of the +prisoners had visited this rendezvous at Cherokee Inlet +during a previous cruise and had some knowledge of the +lay of the coast. Five or six miles out were certain +shoals of sand scarcely lifted above high tide, so desolate +that nothing whatever grew upon them nor was there +any means of obtaining fresh water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A pretty fancy,—to cast us where he can enjoy the +sight of it when the ship sails out," said one of them who +held a wounded comrade in his arms.</p> + +<p>"Some trading vessel may sight us in the nick o' +time," hopefully suggested Joe. "Never say die!"</p> + +<p>"Trust most honest skippers to give the Inlet a wide +berth," was the lugubrious reply. "This harbor was +used by pirates afore Blackbeard's time. I was a silly +'prentice-boy, same as you, Joe, wi' Cap'n Willum Kidd +when we lay in here to caulk his galley for the long voyage +to Madagascar."</p> + +<p>"A poor figger of a pirate was that same Kidd," +spoke up another. "He ne'er scuttled a ship nor fought +an action. An' his treasure was all in my eye. What +did he swing for, at Execution Dock? For crackin' the +skull of his gunner with a wooden bucket."</p> + +<p>"They can't h'ist this Cap'n Teach to the same gibbet +any too soon to please me, Sam," croaked a horse-faced +rogue with two fingers chopped off. "He's gone and +murdered all us men, as sure as blazes."</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge held his peace and wondered what +had become of his partner, Jack Cockrell, waiting alone +in the pirogue. In the infernal commotion at the camp, +Joe had failed to note whether Bill Saxby and Trimble +Rogers had betaken themselves off or had been among +those killed. There was the faint hope that these trusty +messengers might find their way back to Captain Stede +Bonnet's ship and so hasten his coming.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boats crept over the burnished surface of the harbor +and passed the nearest islands which were green and +wooded. Beyond them shone the gently heaving sea, +with the distant gleam of a patch of sandy shoal ringed +about with a necklace of surf. It was remote enough +from any other land to daunt the strongest swimmer. +The boats kept on until they had rounded to leeward of +this ghastly prison. There was no means of resistance. +The captives were driven ashore by force of arms, carrying +a few of their wounded with them.</p> + +<p>With emotions beyond the power of speech, they +stared at the pinnace as the oars splashed on the return +journey to the <i>Revenge</i>. Joe Hawkridge wept a little, +perplexed that men could be so cruel to their own shipmates. +And yet what could be expected of pirates debased +enough to be Blackbeard's loyal followers? Recovering +from their first stupor, the twenty able-bodied +survivors began to ransack the strip of naked sand on +which they had been marooned. It was no more than +an acre in extent. A few small fish were found in a pool +left by the falling tide and perhaps a hundred turtle +eggs were uncovered during the afternoon. This merely +postponed starvation.</p> + +<p>There was not much bickering. In the shadow of certain +death, these outlaws of the sea seemed to have acquired +a spirit of resignation which was akin to dignity. +They had lost the game. In their own lingo, it was the +black spot for all hands of 'em. With the coolness of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +night they revived to bathe in the surf which made their +thirst less hard to bear. There was not much sleep. +Men walked in restless circles, looking up at the stars, +muttering to themselves, or scanning the sea which had +known their crimes and follies.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/illus6.jpg" width="409" height="500" alt="THEY CAPERED AND HUGGED EACH OTHER" title="THEY CAPERED AND HUGGED EACH OTHER" /> +<span class="caption">THEY CAPERED AND HUGGED EACH OTHER</span> +</div> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge scooped out a bed for himself in the +sand and dropped off to sleep by spells, with dreams of +ease and quiet ashore and learning to be a gentleman. +It was daylight when shouts startled him. The other +derelicts were in a frenzy of agitation. They capered +and hugged each other, and made unearthly sounds. +Joe brushed the sand from his eyes and saw a small +vessel approaching the tiny island. Her rig was made +out to be that of a snow, which was very like a brig, +the difference being in the larger main-topsail and the +absence of a spanker or after steering-sail.</p> + +<p>Such trading craft as this snow came coasting down +from Salem and other New England ports to Virginia +and the Carolinas laden with molasses, rum, salt, cider, +mackerel, woodenware, Muscavado sugar, and dried +codfish. They bartered for return cargoes and carried +no specie, wherefore pirates like Stede Bonnet seldom +molested them excepting to take such stores as might be +needed and sometimes actually to pay for them. They +were the prey of miscreants of Blackbeard's stripe who +destroyed and slew for the pleasure of it.</p> + +<p>This trim little snow was making to the southward in +fancied security, having picked up a landfall, as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +marooned pirates conjectured. No doubt her master +had failed to receive warning that Blackbeard was in +these waters and he was running his risk of encountering +other marauders. He must have seen that there were +people in distress on the tide-washed strip of sand. The +snow shifted her helm and fired a gun. The marooned +wretches could scarce credit their amazing good fortune +but a grave, slow-spoken fellow who had been a carpenter's +mate in the <i>Revenge</i> thought the rejoicing premature.</p> + +<p>"When that God-fearin' skipper takes a look at us, +he will sheer off and clap on sail, lads. For shipwrecked +sailors you are a pizen lot o' mugs. The only blighted +one of ye what's the leastwise respectable is me."</p> + +<p>Here was a terrible misgiving which clouded the +bright anticipations. They were, indeed, an unlovely +cargo for the little trading vessel to take on board. One +of them whipped out a pair of scissors and hastily sawed +at his unkempt whiskers while his comrades stood in line +and waited their turn. Others discarded gaudy kerchiefs +and pistol-belts, or kicked off Spanish jack-boots. +Scraps of gold lace were also unpopular. But they +could not get rid of scarred faces and rum-reddened +noses and the other hall-marks of their trade.</p> + +<p>To their immense relief, the snow displayed no signs +of alarm but sailed as close as the shoaling water permitted +and dipped her colors. The pirates flattered +themselves that they were not as frightful as the car<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>penter's +mate had painted them. And this New England +shipmaster was a merciful man who would not +leave his fellow mortals to perish. They saw a boat lowered +from the snow and into it jumped half a dozen +sailors, soberly clad in dungaree, with round straw hats +on their heads. With a gush of gratitude, the pirates +swore to deal courteously by these noble merchant +mariners and to repay them in whatever manner possible.</p> + +<p>Out into the murmuring surf rushed the mild-mannered +rascals, eager to grasp the boat and haul it up. +It was Joe Hawkridge, hovering in the background, +who raised the first cry of astonishment. His voice was +so affrighted that it quavered. Before the boat was +half-way from the vessel, he perceived that these were +no sedate seamen from the Massachusetts Colony, even +though they were in dungaree and round straw hats. +He was gazing at some of Ned Rackham's evil pirates +whom he had last beheld on the shattered deck of the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i> where they had been left to build +a raft for themselves!</p> + +<p>The devil had looked after his own. They had floated +away from the stranded ship and instead of landing on +the beach had been rescued by this unfortunate snow +whose crew had been disposed of in some violent manner. +This much Joe Hawkridge comprehended, although his +mind was awhirl. He was better off marooned. He +had helped to turn the guns of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +against these very same men when they had been blown +out of the after cabin and the ship retaken by Captain +Jonathan Wellsby.</p> + +<p>Whatever other plans they had in store, the first business +would be to kill Joe Hawkridge. This was painfully +obvious. He retreated still farther behind his +companions and had a confused idea of digging into the +sand and burying himself from view. The discovery +that these were Blackbeard's pirates in the boat created +general confusion but there was no fear of instant death. +It was a situation excessively awkward for the marooned +company but nevertheless open to parley and argument.</p> + +<p>By hurried agreement, the carpenter's mate, Peter +Tobey by name, was chosen as spokesman. Before he +began to talk with the men in the boat, Joe Hawkridge +called to him in piteous accents and begged him to step +back in rear of the crowd for a moment. Tobey +shouted to the boat to wait outside the surf and not attempt +a landing.</p> + +<p>"What's the row, Joe?" he asked, with a kindly +smile. "'Tis a disappointment for all of us,—this tangle +with Rackham's crew,—but why any worse for +you?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell it all, Peter, but my life is forfeit once +they lay hands on me."</p> + +<p>"What tarradiddle is this? As I remember it in the +<i>Revenge</i>, when all hands of us were cruisin' together, +ye had no mortal enemies."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It happened in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>," answered +Joe. "There be men in yon boat that 'ud delight in +flayin' me alive. I swear it, Peter, by my mother's +name. Give me up, and my blood is on your head."</p> + +<p>The boy's words carried conviction. The stolid carpenter's +mate pondered and knitted his bushy brows.</p> + +<p>"I never did a wilful murder yet," said he. "Mallet +and chisel come readier to my fist than a cutlass. Bide +here, Joe. Let me get my bearings. This has the look +of a ticklish matter for the lot of us. I shall be keepin' a +weather eye lifted for squalls."</p> + +<p>In mortal fear of discovery by the men in the boat, +Joe flattened himself behind a palmetto log which had +drifted to the other side of the island. Here he was +hidden unless the boat should make a landing. The +carpenter's mate waded out to join his companions who +were amiably conversing with Ned Rackham's pirates. +They had all been shipmates either in the <i>Revenge</i> or +the <i>Triumph</i> sloop and there was boisterous curiosity +concerning the divers adventures while they had been +apart. Rackham's crew had been reduced to eighteen +men when they were lucky enough to capture the snow, +it was learned. With this small company he dared not +go pirating on his own account and so had decided to +rejoin Blackbeard.</p> + +<p>"Is Ned Rackham aboard the snow?" asked Peter +Tobey of the boat's coxswain.</p> + +<p>"He is all o' that, matey, though the big bos'n of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i> shoved a knife in his ribs to the +hilt. He is flat in a bunk but he gives the orders an' +it's jump at the word."</p> + +<p>"A hard man to kill," said Peter Tobey. "Take me +aboard. 'Tis best I have speech with him. Let the +people wait here on the cay. They can stand another +hour of it."</p> + +<p>There was fierce protest among the marooned pirates +but the carpenter's mate gruffly demanded to know if +they wished to be carried into the harbor and turned +over to Blackbeard. This gave the mob something to +think about and they permitted the boat to pull away +from them without much objection.</p> + +<p>"A rough joke on you lads, I call it, to be dumped +on this bit o' purgatory," said the coxswain to Peter +Tobey. "The great Cap'n Teach must ha' been in one +of his tantrums."</p> + +<p>"It had been long brewing, as ye know," answered +the carpenter's mate. "These men with you in the snow +'ud sooner follow Ned Rackham, flint-hearted though he +be, than to rejoin the <i>Revenge</i>."</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," cautioned the coxswain. "We'll see +which way the cat is going to jump. Us poor devils +is sore uneasy at findin' how you were dealt with."</p> + +<p>"What of the master and crew of the snow?" asked +Tobey. "Were they snuffed out? That 'ud be Rackham's +way."</p> + +<p>"No, we set 'em off in a boat, within sight of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +coast. Ned Rackham was too shrewd to bloody his +hands, bein' helpless in this tub of a snow which could +neither fight nor show her heels if she was chased."</p> + +<p>Few men as there were aboard the snow, they were +smartly disciplined and kept things shipshape, as Peter +Tobey noted when he climbed on deck. A few minutes +later he was summoned into the small cabin. Propped +up in the skipper's berth, Sailing-Master Ned Rackham +had a pinched and ghastly look. He was a young man, +with clean-cut, handsome features, and a certain refinement +of manner when he cared to assume it. The +rumor was that he was the black sheep of an English +house of some distinction and that he had enlisted in the +Royal Navy under a false name.</p> + +<p>"What is this mare's-nest, my good Tobey?" said he +as the carpenter's mate stood diffidently fumbling with +his cap. "Marooned? Twenty men of you on a reef +of sand? Were ye naughty boys whilst I was absent?"</p> + +<p>"No more than them I could name who planned to go +a-cruisin' in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>," doggedly replied +Peter Tobey who resented the tone of sneering +patronage.</p> + +<p>"Fie, fie! You talk boldly for a man in your situation. +Never mind! Why the honor of this visit?"</p> + +<p>"To make terms, Master Rackham. If us twenty +men consent to serve you——"</p> + +<p>"You babble of terms?" was the biting interruption. +"I can leave you to perish on the sand, as ye no doubt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +deserve, or I can carry you in with me, when I report +to Captain Teach."</p> + +<p>"But there's another choice, which hasn't escaped +you," persisted the intrepid carpenter's mate. "Enlist +us in your service and you'll have nigh on forty men. +This snow mounts a few old swivels and you must ha' +found muskets in her. With forty men, Master Rackham, +there's no occasion to bow to Blackbeard's whimsies. +You can h'ist the Jolly Roger for yourself and lay +'longside a bigger ship to take and cruise in. I've heard +tell of a great buccaneer that started for himself in a +pinnace and captured a galleon as tall as a church."</p> + +<p>Ned Rackham's eyes flashed. Indeed, this was what +he had in mind. This score of recruits would make +the venture worth undertaking. Men were essential. +Given enough of them to handle the snow and a boarding +party besides, and he would not hesitate to shift +helm and bear away to sea again.</p> + +<p>"You will sign articles, then?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Aye, I can speak for all, Master Rackham. What +else is there for us? Hold fast, I would except one man. +He must be granted safe conduct, on your sacred honor."</p> + +<p>"His name, Tobey?"</p> + +<p>"That matters not. Pledge me first. He has no +more stomach for piracy and will be set ashore at some +port."</p> + +<p>"A pig in a poke?" cried Rackham, with an ugly +smile. "If I refuse, what?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You will have sulky men that may turn against you +some day."</p> + +<p>"And I can leave you to rot where you are, with your +nonsense of 'making terms,'" was the harsh rejoinder.</p> + +<p>"But you won't do that," argued Peter Tobey. +"Your own fortune hangs on enlisting us twenty lads. +You bear Blackbeard no more love than we do."</p> + +<p>Ned Rackham was making no great headway with +this stubborn carpenter's mate who was playing strong +cards of his own.</p> + +<p>"A drawn bout, Tobey," said he, with a change of +front. "No more backing and filling. You ask a small +favor. Fetch your man along, whoever he may be. He +shall be done no harm by me."</p> + +<p>"Even though he made a mortal enemy of you, Master +Rackham?"</p> + +<p>"Enough, Peter. I have many enemies and scores to +settle. You have my assurance but I demand the lad's +name."</p> + +<p>"Not without his permission," declared Tobey. "Set +me ashore and I will confer with him."</p> + +<p>Grudgingly Rackham consented, unwilling to have a +hitch in the negotiations. In a somber humor, the carpenter's +mate returned to his impatient comrades on the +island. They crowded about him and he briefly delivered +the message, that they were desired to cruise under +Ned Rackham's flag. This delighted them, as the only +way out of a fatal dilemma. Then Tobey went over to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +sit down upon the palmetto log behind which Joe Hawkridge +still sprawled like a turtle. The anxious boy +poked up his head to say:</p> + +<p>"What cheer, Peter? A plaguey muddle you found +it, I'll bet."</p> + +<p>"Worse'n that, Joe. Rackham wouldn't clinch it +with his oath unless I told him your name. I plead with +him for safe conduct."</p> + +<p>"I'd not trust his oath on a stack o' Bibles, once he +set eyes on me," exclaimed Joe. "As soon put my fist +to my own death warrant as go aboard with him."</p> + +<p>"That may be," said Peter Tobey, "but you will +have friends. You can't expect us to refuse to sail on +account o' you."</p> + +<p>"Leave me here, then," cried the boy. "I'll not call +it deserting me. Take your men aboard the snow. Tell +Ned Rackham you have the fellow amongst 'em who +implored the safe conduct. Pick out some harmless lad +that was saucy to Rackham in the <i>Revenge</i>, a half-wit +like that Robinson younker that was the sailing-master's +own cabin boy. He was allus blubberin' that Rackham +'ud kill him some day."</p> + +<p>"No half-wit about you," admiringly quoth the +carpenter's mate. "But, harkee, Joe, you will die in +slow misery. Better a quick bullet from Rackham's +pistol."</p> + +<p>"Find some way to send off a little food and water, +Peter, and I will set tight on this desert island. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +mayhap you will dance at the end of a rope afore I +shuffle off."</p> + +<p>"A hard request, Joe," replied the puzzled Tobey. +"Unless I can come off again with some of our own +men, how can it be done? Let Rackham's crew suspect +I am leaving a man behind and they will rout you out."</p> + +<p>"And they all love me, like a parson loves a pirate," +grinned Joe. "I shot 'em full of spikes and bolts from +a nine-pounder in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>."</p> + +<p>"I shall use my best endeavor, so help me," sighed +Peter Tobey. "What for did I ever quit carpenterin' +to go a-piratin'? 'Tis the worst basket of chips that +ever was."</p> + +<p>"No sooner do I crawl out of one hole than I tumble +into another," very truthfully observed Joe Hawkridge. +"Insomuch as I've allus crawled out, you and me'll +shed no more tears, Peter. There's a kick in me yet."</p> + +<p>The disconsolate carpenter's mate returned to his fellow +pirates and bade them go off to the snow. First, +however, he extracted from every man the solemn promise +that he would not divulge the secret of Joe Hawkridge's +presence nor reveal the fact that he had remained +behind. They were eager to promise anything. Several +of them stole over to tell him furtive farewells. +They displayed no great emotion. The trade they followed +was not apt to make them turn soft over such a +tragic episode as this.</p> + +<p>When the snow was ready to take her departure, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +almost forty seasoned pirates to seek their fortunes +anew, the wind died to a calm and the little vessel drifted +within easy vision of the sandy island through a long +afternoon. Peter Tobey tormented himself to find some +pretext for smuggling food and water ashore. He invented +a tale of a precious gold snuff-box which must +have fallen out of his pocket and begged permission to +go and search for it. But Ned Rackham sent up word +that he had no notion of being delayed by a fool's errand, +should a breeze spring up. He was not at all +anxious to linger so close to Cherokee Inlet whence +Blackbeard might sight the spars of the snow and perhaps +weigh anchor in the <i>Revenge</i>.</p> + +<p>Soon after dark the sails filled with a soft wind which +drew the snow clear of the coast. Peter Tobey had been +mightily busy with an empty cask. In it he stowed meat +and biscuit and a bag of onions, stealthily abstracted +from the storeroom while his own companions stood +guard against surprise. This stuff was packed around +two jugs of water tightly stoppered. Then Peter +headed up the cask with professional skill and watched +the opportunity to lower it from the vessel's bow where +he was unseen.</p> + +<p>The wind and tide were favorable to carrying the cask +in the direction of the little patch of sea-washed sand +upon which was marooned the solitary young mariner, +Joe Hawkridge. The carpenter's mate saw the cask +drift past the side of the snow and roll in the silvery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +wake. Slowly it vanished in the darkness and he said +to himself, in a prayer devoutly earnest:</p> + +<p>"That boy deserves a slant o' luck, and may the good +God let him have it this once. Send the cask to the +beach, and I vow to go a-piratin' never again."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>JACK JOURNEYS AFOOT</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>I</big>T is often said that a thing is not lost if you know +where it is. This was Jack Cockrell's opinion concerning +that weighty sea-chest which had splashed +to the bottom of the sluggish stream in the heart of the +Cherokee swamp. With young Bill Saxby and eager +old Trimble Rogers he hastened from the grave of the +pirate seaman whom they had buried on the knoll and +fetched up at the shore where the pirogue had been left. +Beside it floated Blackbeard's boat filled with water.</div> + +<p>Having cut two or three long poles, they sounded the +depth and prodded in the muddy bed to find the treasure +chest. It had sunk no more than eight feet below the +surface, as the tide then stood, which was not much over +the head of a tall man. The end of a pole struck something +solid, after considerable poking about. It was +not rough, like a sunken log, and further investigation +with the poles convinced them that they were thumping +the lid of the chest.</p> + +<p>"D'ye suppose you could muster breath to dive and +bend a line to one o' the handles, Master Cockrell?" +suggested Trimble Rogers. "Here's a coil of stout +stuff in Cap'n Teach's boat what he used for a painter."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The bottom of the creek is too befouled," promptly +objected Jack, "and I confess it daunts me to think of +meeting that drownded corpse down there. Try it yourself, +if you like."</p> + +<p>"I be needed above water to handle the musket if +Blackbeard sneaks back to bang at us with his pistols," +was the evasive reply. The mention of the corpse had +given old Trimble a distaste for the task. To his petulant +question, Bill Saxby protested that he couldn't +swim a blessed stroke and he sensibly added:</p> + +<p>"What if you did get a rope's end belayed to a handle +of the chest? Even if the strain didn't part the line, we +couldn't heave away in this tipsy canoe. And I am +blamed certain we can't drag the chest ashore lackin' +purchase and tackles."</p> + +<p>"The smell o' treasure warps my judgment," grumpily +confessed Trimble Rogers. "We ain't properly +rigged to h'ist that chest from where she lays, and that's +the fact."</p> + +<p>"Give us the gear and we'd have it out and cracked +open as pretty as you please," said Bill. "Set up a +couple o' spars for shears, stay 'em from the bank, rig +double blocks, and grapplin' irons for a diver to work +with——"</p> + +<p>"Which is exactly what Cap'n Teach will be doin' +of when he finds his ship again," lamented the buccaneer.</p> + +<p>"He will be some time findin' his ship afoot," grimly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +chuckled Bill. "We have naught to smash his boat +with, but we'll just take it along with us."</p> + +<p>"If we make haste to report to Captain Stede Bonnet," +spoke up Jack Cockrell, "he may make sail in +time to give Blackbeard other things to think on than +this treasure chest. And it is my notion that the need +of fitting the <i>Revenge</i> for action is too urgent to spare +a crew to attempt this errand."</p> + +<p>"We shall have it yet," cried Trimble, much consoled. +"And Stede Bonnet'll blithely furnish the men +and gear. For a mere babe, Master Cockrell, ye leak +wisdom like a colander. Our duty is to tarry no longer +at this mad business."</p> + +<p>"The first sound word I've heard out of the old barnacle, +eh, Jack?" said Bill Saxby. "We must be out +of this swamp by night and layin' a course for Cap'n +Bonnet and the <i>Royal James</i>."</p> + +<p>"Whilst you empty Blackbeard's boat of water so we +can tow it, let me make a rude chart," was Jack's happy +idea. "Some mishap or other may overtake us ere we +get the chance to seek the treasure again. And our own +memory of this pest-hole of a swamp may trick us."</p> + +<p>Bill Saxby's tattered diary supplied a scrap of paper +and Jack dug charred splinters from the inside of the +canoe which enabled him to draw a charcoal sketch or +map. It traced the smaller stream from the fork where +it had branched off, the stretch in which it widened like +a tiny lagoon or bayou, and the point of shore just be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>yond +which the pirogue had unexpectedly rammed +Blackbeard's boat. A cross designated the spot where +the treasure chest had sunk in eight feet of water.</p> + +<p>The knoll and the grave of Seaman Jesse Strawn +were also indicated, with the distance estimated in +paces and the bearings set down by the position of the +sun.</p> + +<p>"There," said Jack, well pleased with his handiwork, +"and once we are aboard ship, I can make fair copies +on parchment, one for each of us."</p> + +<p>"Thankee, lad," gratefully exclaimed Trimble +Rogers who now had something to live for. "'Twas a +fond dream o' mine, when I sailed wi' the great Cap'n +Edward Davis in the South Sea, some day to blink at a +chart what showed where the gold was hid."</p> + +<p>They were, indeed, recovered from the intoxication of +treasure and recalled to realizing the obligation that was +upon them. They had swerved from it but now they +pressed forward to finish the appointed journey. The +canoe moved down to the fork of the waters with the +light cock-boat skittering in its wake and perhaps the +unhappy Blackbeard, stranded in the swamp, hurled +after them a volley of those curses for which he was renowned. +Once Jack Cockrell laughed aloud, explaining +to his laboring comrades:</p> + +<p>"Captain Teach will be combing the burrs from his +grand beard when he boards his ship again. He may +get hung by the chin in a thicket."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's sure to spend this night in the swamp, blast +him," earnestly observed Bill, "and the mosquitoes'll +riddle his hide."</p> + +<p>"And may Jesse Strawn lose no time in hauntin' +him," said Trimble Rogers.</p> + +<p>There was an hour of daylight to spare when they +had ascended the larger creek as far as the canoe could +be paddled. There they disembarked and hid the dugout +and the cock-boat in the overhanging bushes where +they could be found again in case of a forced retreat. +Bill and Jack burdened themselves with the sack of food +and the water jug while the old buccaneer set out in the +lead as a guide. It was irksome progress for a time, but +gradually the ground became drier and the foliage was +more open. Dusk found them safely emerged from the +great Cherokee swamp and in a pleasant forest of long-leaf +pine with a carpet of brown needles.</p> + +<p>In fear of Indians, they dared not kindle a fire and +so stretched themselves in their wet and muddy rags +and slept like dead men. What awakened Jack Cockrell +before sunrise was a series of groans from Trimble +Rogers who sat with his back against a tree while he +rubbed his legs. Ashamed at being heard, he grumpily +explained:</p> + +<p>"Cord and faggot 'ud torment me no worse than +this hell-begotten rheumatism. I be free of it in a ship +but the land reeks with foul vapors. It hurt me cruel +at Cartagena in the year of——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But can you walk all day, in such misery as that?" +anxiously interrupted Jack.</p> + +<p>"If not, I'll make shift to crawl," said the old sea +dog.</p> + +<p>It was apparent to Jack and also to Bill Saxby that +the ordeal of the swamp had crippled their companion +whose bodily strength had been overtaxed. They debated +whether to try to return to the coast and risk a +voyage in the canoe but Trimble Rogers swore by all +the saints in the calendar that he was done with the +pestilent swamp. He would push on in spite of the +rheumatism. His hardy spirit was unbroken. And so +they resumed the march, the suffering buccaneer hobbling +with the musket as a staff or with a strong arm +supporting him.</p> + +<p>Halts were frequent and progress very slow. Now +and then they had glimpses of the blue sea and so knew +that they held the course true. It had been reckoned +that two days would suffice to bring them to the bay in +which Stede Bonnet's ship was anchored. By noon of +this first day, however, it was plainly evident that Trimble +Rogers was done for. He uttered no complaints, +and withheld the groans behind his set teeth, but his +lank body was a-tremble with pain and fatigue. Whenever +he sank down to rest they had to raise him up and +set him on his legs again before he could totter a little +way farther.</p> + +<p>"What say, Jack, to slingin' him on a pole, neck and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +heels?" suggested Bill Saxby. "Can we make him fast +with our belts?"</p> + +<p>"And choke him to death? In Charles Town I saw +Captain Bonnet's pirates carry their wounded in litters +woven of boughs."</p> + +<p>The suffering Trimble put a stop to this by shouting:</p> + +<p>"Avast wi' the maunderin' nonsense! Push on, lads, +and leave this old hulk be. Many a goodly man have I +seen drop in the jungle. What matters it? Speed ye +to Cap'n Bonnet."</p> + +<p>"Here is one pirate that won't desert a shipmate," +declared Bill Saxby. "And how can we push on without +you, old True-Penny, to lay your nose to the trail? +I took no heed o' the marks and landfalls."</p> + +<p>"Like a sailor ashore, mouth open and eyes shut," +rasped the buccaneer of Hispaniola.</p> + +<p>"Methinks I might find my way in this Carolina +country," ventured Jack Cockrell. "It would be easier +for a landsman like myself than for Bill who is city-bred +and a seaman besides."</p> + +<p>"More wisdom from the stripling," said Trimble. +"Willing as I be to die sooner than delay ye and so vex +Stede Bonnet, it 'ud please me to live to overhaul that +sea chest of Blackbeard's."</p> + +<p>"I'll stand by this condemned old relic," amiably +agreed Bill Saxby. "Do you request Cap'n Bonnet to +send a party to salvage us, Jack."</p> + +<p>"He will take pleasure in it, Bill. Before I go let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +me help you find shelter,—dry limbs for props and a +thatch of palmetto leaves."</p> + +<p>"Take no thought of us," urged Trimble. "Trust +me to set this lazy oaf to work. Now listen, Jack, and +carefully. Cap'n Bonnet's ship waits in the Cape Fear +River, twelve leagues to the north'ard of us. You will +find her betwixt a bay of the mainland and a big-sized +island where the river makes in from the sea. There will +be a lookout kept and I can tell ye where to meet a +boat."</p> + +<p>With a memory as retentive as a printed page, the +keen-eyed old wanderer described the landscape league +by league, the streams and their direction, the hills which +were prominent, the broad stretches of savannah or +grassy meadow, the belts of pine forest, the tongues of +swamp which had to be avoided. Jack was compelled to +repeat the detailed instructions over and over, and he +was a far more studious pupil than when snuffy Parson +Throckmorton had rapped his knuckles and fired him +with rebellious dreams of piracy. At length, the buccaneer +was willing to acknowledge:</p> + +<p>"Unless an Indian drive an arrow through the lad's +brisket, Bill, I can trust him to find our ship. Best give +him the musket."</p> + +<p>"Me shoulder that carronade and trudge a dozen +leagues?" objected Jack. "I travel light and leave the +ordnance with you."</p> + +<p>They insisted on his taking more than a third of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +food but he refused to deprive them of the water jug. +There would be streams enough to slake his thirst. It +was an affectionate parting. Bill Saxby's innocent blue +eyes were suffused and his chubby face sorrowful at the +thought that they might not meet again. Trimble Rogers +fished out his battered little Bible and quoted a few +verses, as appeared to be his habit on all solemn occasions. +Jack Cockrell knew him well enough by now to +find it not incongruous. Among this vanishing race of +sea fighters had been many a hero of the most fervent +piety. Their spirit was akin to that of Francis Drake +who summoned his crew to prayers before he cleared for +action.</p> + +<p>And in this wise did Master Jack Cockrell set out +to bear a message from comrades in dire distress. +Moreover, in his hands were the lives of Joe Hawkridge +and those other marooned seamen, as he had every reason +to believe. It was a grave responsibility to be thrust +upon a raw lad in his teens who had been so carefully +nurtured by his fretful guardian of an uncle, Mr. Peter +Arbuthnot Forbes. Jack thought of this and said to +himself, with a smile:</p> + +<p>"A few weeks gone, and I was locked in my room +without any dinner for loitering with Stede Bonnet's +pirates at the Charles Town tavern. My education has +been swift since then."</p> + +<p>He was expectant of meeting no end of peril and +hardship and he fought down a sense of dread that was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +not to his discredit. But it was so decreed that he +should pass secure and unmolested. At first he went +too fast, without husbanding his strength, and loped +along like a hound whenever the country was clear of +brushwood. This wore him down and he failed to watch +carefully enough for his landmarks. Toward the end +of the day he became confused because he could not discern +the sea even by climbing a tree. But he tried to +keep bearing to the northeast until the sun went down. +Afraid of losing himself entirely and ignorant of the +lay of the land by night, he made his bivouac in a grove +of sycamore saplings and imagined Indians were creeping +up whenever the leaves rustled.</p> + +<p>This fear of roaming savages troubled him next day +as he wearily trudged through this primeval wilderness +unknown to white settlers. It spurred him on despite +his foot-sore fatigue and he was making the journey +more rapidly than old Trimble Rogers, for all his cunning +woodcraft, had been able to accomplish it. Almost +at the end of his endurance, the plucky lad discerned +the sheen of a broad water in the twilight and so +came to the Cape Fear River.</p> + +<p>He had worried greatly lest he might have veered too +far inland but there was the wooded bay and the fore-land +crowned with dead pines which had been swept by +forest fire. And out beyond it was the island, of the +size and shape described by Trimble Rogers, making a +harbor from the sea which rolled to the horizon rim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> + +<p>But no tall brig, nor any other vessel rode at anchor +in this silent and lonely haven. Jack had been told precisely +where to look for it. He had made no mistake. +Some emergency had caused Captain Stede Bonnet to +make sail and away.</p> + +<p>A king's ship or some other hostile force might have +compelled him to slip his cable in haste, reflected Jack +as he descended to the shore of the bay. It was most +unlike the chivalrous Stede Bonnet to abandon two of +his faithful seamen without an effort to succor them. +Endeavoring to comfort himself with this surmise, the +sorely disappointed boy paced the sand far into the night +and gazed in vain for the glimmer of a fire or the spark +of a signal lantern in a ship's rigging. He could not +bear to think of the dark prospect should no help betide +him.</p> + +<p>Some time before day he was between waking and +sleeping when a queer delusion distracted him. Humming +in his ears was the refrain of a song which was +both familiar and hauntingly pleasant. It seemed to +charm away his poignant anxieties, to lull him with a +feeling of safety. He wondered if his troublesome adventures +had made him light-headed. He moved not a +muscle but listened to this phantom music and noted that +it sounded louder and clearer instead of fading away. +And still he refused to believe that it was anything more +than a drowsy mockery.</p> + +<p>At length a vagrant breeze brought him a snatch of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +this enjoyable chorus in deeper, stronger volume and he +leaped to his feet with a shout. It was no hallucination. +Lusty seamen were singing in time to the beat of their +oars, and Jack Cockrell knew it for the favorite song of +Stede Bonnet's crew. He could distinguish the words +as they rolled them out in buoyant, stentorian harmony:</p> + +<div class='poem'>"An' when my precious leg was lopt,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Just for a bit of fun</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I picks it up, on t'other hopt,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">An' rammed it in a gun.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">'What's that for?' cries out Ginger Dick,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">'What for? my jumpin' beau?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Why, to give the lubbers one more kick,'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>Yo, ho, with the rum below!</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>A PRIVATE ACCOUNT TO SETTLE</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HE ship's boat was bound into the bay, probably +to lie there for daybreak, and Jack Cockrell +rushed down to the beach where he set up +such a frantic hullabaloo that the sailors ceased singing +and held their breath and their oars suspended. They +had come to look for Bill Saxby and Trimble Rogers, +but this was a strange voice. It was so odd a circumstance +that several of them hailed the shore with questions +loud and perplexed.</div> + +<p>"Master John Cockrell, at your service," came back +the reply. "Captain Bonnet knows me. I am the lad +that clouted a six-foot pirate of yours for being saucy +to a maid in Charles Town."</p> + +<p>This aroused a roar of laughter and there were gusty +shouts of:</p> + +<p>"Here's that same Will Brant in the boat with us. +He shakes in his boots at the sound of ye."</p> + +<p>"What's the game, lad? Have ye taken a ship of +your own to scour the Main?"</p> + +<p>Jack ignored this good-natured badinage and, in dig<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>nified +accents, told them to come ashore and take him +off to the <i>Royal James</i>. In this company he had a reputation +to live up to as a man of parts and valor. They +let the boat ground on the smooth sand and one of them +lighted a torch of pitch-pine splinters. The fine young +gentleman who had strolled arm-in-arm with Stede Bonnet +to the tavern green was a ragged scarecrow and bedaubed +with red clay and black mud. This aroused +their sympathy before he told them of his escape from +the <i>Revenge</i> and his adventures with Bill Saxby and +the crippled buccaneer. In their turn they explained +how Captain Bonnet had sent them down the river to +await the return of the two men who were now stranded +in the wilderness two days' march distant.</p> + +<p>"And why did your captain shift the brig from her +anchorage off the island?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>This amused the boat's crew who nudged each other +and were evasive until the master's mate who was in +charge went far enough to say:</p> + +<p>"A sloop came in from the Pamlico River. Our ship +sought a snugger harbor, d'ye see? There was some +private business. We loaded the sloop with hogshead +of sugar, and bolts of damask, and silver ingots. His +Excellency, Governor Eden, of the North Carolina +Province, turns an honest penny now and then."</p> + +<p>"The Governor of this Province is a partner in piracy?" +cried Jack.</p> + +<p>"Brawl it not so loud, nor spill it to Cap'n Bonnet,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +cautioned the master's mate. "I confide this much to +stave off your foolish questions when ye board the ship."</p> + +<p>There was no reason to tarry in the bay and the boat +pulled out to follow the course of the river and return +in haste to the brig <i>Royal James</i> in her more secluded +harbor. The news that Blackbeard was at his old rendezvous +within easy sail to the southward eclipsed all +other topics. And when it was learned that he had lost +the two sloops of his squadron, there was fierce delight. +Although the <i>Revenge</i> was a larger vessel and more +heavily manned and gunned, they were hilariously confident +of victory. It was a burning grudge and a private +quarrel, and fuel was added to the flame by the +tidings that a score or more of seamen had been mercilessly +marooned to perish because of their suspected +preference for Captain Stede Bonnet.</p> + +<p>When Jack Cockrell caught sight of the shapely brig +as she loomed in the morning haze, it seemed as though +years had passed since he had enviously watched her +pass out over the Charles Town bar. Presently he spied +the soldierly captain on the quarter-deck, his spare +figure all taut and erect, his chin clean-shaven, his queue +powdered, his apparel fresh and in good taste. A ship +is like her master and the watch was sluicing down decks +or setting up the rigging which had slackened with the +heavy dew. Jack felt ashamed to let himself be seen. +This was no place for a ragamuffin.</p> + +<p>Captain Bonnet strode to the gangway and stared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +down at this bit of human flotsam. He was quick to +recognize his boyish friend and admirer and ordered the +men to lower a boatswain's chair and lift Master Cockrell +aboard. Jack was, indeed, so stiffened and sore and +weary that he had been wondering how he could climb +the side of a ship.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, my son, bide your time," exclaimed Stede +Bonnet as they met on deck. "Tell it later. The master's +mate will enlighten me."</p> + +<p>He led the way into the cabin which was in order and +simply furnished. One servant brewed fragrant coffee +from Arabia while another made a room ready for the +guest and fetched clean clothing from the captain's +chests and a tub of hot water. And as soon as the grateful +Master Cockrell had made himself presentable, he +was invited to sit down at table with the captain and +enjoy a meal of porridge and crisp English bacon and +fresh eggs from the ship's hen-coop in the long-boat and +hot crumpets and marmalade. And this after the +pinched ration of mouldy salt-horse and wormy hard-bread! +Captain Bonnet lighted a roll of tobacco leaves, +which he called a <i>cigarro</i>, and puffed clouds of smoke +while Master Cockrell cleaned every dish and lamented +that his skin felt too tight to begin all over again.</p> + +<p>He was now in a mood to relate his strange yarn, from +its outset in the ill-fated merchant trader, <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. +Eagerly he begged information concerning +her people after their shipwreck, but Captain Bonnet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +had been cruising far offshore to intercept a convoy of +rich West Indiamen from Jamaica for the old country.</p> + +<p>"I will make it my duty to set you ashore at Charles +Town, Master Jack," said he, "and I pray you may +find your good uncle alive and still vowing to hang all +rogues of pirates."</p> + +<p>"But I must sail with you, sir, till you have saved +Joe Hawkridge and his shipmates and blown Blackbeard +out of water."</p> + +<p>"Rest easy on that," exclaimed Stede Bonnet. +"Those affairs are most urgent. My ship will drop +down the river to-day, with the turn o' the tide, and +heave to long enough to land a party, six men, to go in +search of Trimble Rogers who is the apple of my eye. +I shall not ask you to join them, but you can give directions +and pen a fair map, I trow."</p> + +<p>"Gladly would I go," replied Jack, "but my poor +legs wobble like your valiant old buccaneer's. And my +feet are raw."</p> + +<p>"You have proved yourself," was the fine compliment. +"I judged ye aright when we first met."</p> + +<p>Soon the deck above them resounded to the tramp of +boots and the thump of sheet-blocks as the brisk seamen +made ready to cast the ship free. She was in competent +hands and so Stede Bonnet lingered below to enjoy +talking with the youth whose manners and breeding +were like his own. In a mood unusually confidential he +confirmed Jack's earlier impressions, that he was a pi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>rate +with a certain code of honor which reminded one +of Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest who robbed the +rich and befriended the poor. Touching on his mortal +quarrel with Blackbeard, he revealed how that traitorous +ruffian had proposed a partnership while he, Stede +Bonnet, was a novice at the trade. The plot all hatched +to take Bonnet's fine ship, the <i>Revenge</i>, from him, +Blackbeard had disclosed his hand at the final conference +when he said, with a sarcastic grimace:</p> + +<p>"I see, my good sir, that you are not used to the cares +and duties of commanding a vessel, so I will relieve you +of 'em."</p> + +<p>As soon as Captain Bonnet had mended his fortunes +and had the goodly brig <i>Royal James</i> to cruise in, his +ruling purpose was to regain the <i>Revenge</i> from Blackbeard +and at the same time wreak a proper punishment.</p> + +<p>"So now if we can trap this black-hearted Teach before +he flits to sea," said Stede Bonnet, "you will see a +pretty engagement, Master Cockrell. But first we must +find the score o' men that he marooned. It will be a +deed of mercy, besides affording me a stronger crew."</p> + +<p>The brig was soon standing down the river while the +landing party broke out an ample store of provisions +and powder and ball, with canvas for a tent. The plan +was for them to pitch a camp near the shore of the bay +to which they could fetch back Trimble Rogers and Bill +Saxby and there wait for their ship to return and take +them off. They were ready to go ashore when Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +Bonnet's navigator ordered the main-topsail laid aback +and the brig slowly swung into the wind. The delay +was brief and no sooner was the boat cast off than the +<i>Royal James</i> proceeded on the voyage to Cherokee +Inlet.</p> + +<p>Clumsy as those sailing ships of two hundred years +ago appear to modern eyes, their lines were finely +moulded under water and with a favoring wind they +could log a fair distance in a day's run. It goes without +saying that this tall brig was shoved along for all +she was worth before a humming breeze that made her +creak, and during the night she was reckoned to be a +few miles to seaward of the sandy islands which extended +like a barrier outside of Cherokee Inlet. Jack +Cockrell stood a watch of his own, dead weary but with +no thought of sleep until he could hear the lookout shout +"Land ho!"</p> + +<p>This cry came from aloft soon after dawn. The brig +moved toward the nearest of these exposed shoals while +her officers consulted a chart spread upon the cabin +roof. They were wary of running the ship aground +with Blackbeard no more than a few miles distant. So +bare were these yellow patches of sand that showed +against the green water that a group of men on any one +of them would have been easily discernible. The <i>Royal +James</i> coasted along outside of them under shortened +sail but discovered nothing to indicate a party of marooned +seamen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But they must be out here somewhere," cried Jack +Cockrell, in great distress.</p> + +<p>"They ought to be, for no trading vessel would take +'em off," replied the puzzled Captain Bonnet. "And +if they were towed out in boats as ye say, Jack, these +islands must ha' been where they were beached."</p> + +<p>"But you won't give up the search, sir, without another +tack past those outermost shoals?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, we shall rake them all, but Blackbeard may +have changed that crotchety mind of his and taken the +men back to his ship."</p> + +<p>"I fear I have seen the last of my dear Joe Hawkridge," +exclaimed Jack.</p> + +<p>"From what you tell me, the young scamp is not so +easily disposed of," smiled Captain Bonnet. "I must +haul out to sea ere long. 'Tis poor business to let Blackbeard +glimpse my spars and so take warning."</p> + +<p>This was sad news and Jack walked away to hide his +quivering lip. To examine the islands again was a forlorn +hope because already it seemed certain that nothing +alive moved on any of them. The brig passed them +closer than before as she made a long reach before turning +out to sea. It was the intention to sail in to engage +Blackbeard very early the next morning and meanwhile +he would be vigilantly blockaded.</p> + +<p>Even Jack Cockrell, hopeful to the last, was compelled +to agree with the crew of the brig that not a solitary +man could be seen on these sea-girt cays and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +seemed useless to send off a boat to explore them one +by one. There would have been some stir or signal, +even if men were too weak to stand. The air was +clear and from the brig's masts it was possible to sweep +every foot of sandy surface. Here was another +mystery of the sea. It occurred to Stede Bonnet to +ask:</p> + +<p>"You took it for granted they were marooned, Jack, +when the boats passed from your sight and you were +hidden in the tree in the swamp. What if a quicker +death were dealt 'em?"</p> + +<p>"That may be, sir."</p> + +<p>The brig was leaving the coast astern. Jack moped +by himself until his curiosity was drawn to a group of +seamen upon the forecastle head who were talking loudly +and pointing at something in the water, well ahead of the +ship. One vowed it was a big sea-turtle asleep, another +was willing to wager his silver-mounted pistols that it +was a rum barrel, while a third announced that he'd +stake his head on its being a mermaid or her husband. +The after-deck brought a spy-glass to bear and perceived +that the thing was splashing about. The tiller +was shifted to bring it close aboard and soon Captain +Bonnet exclaimed that it was, indeed, a merman a-cruising +with a cask!</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell scampered to the heel of the bowsprit +to investigate this ocean prodigy. And as the cask +drifted nearer he saw that Joe Hawkridge was clinging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +to it. There was no mistaking that dauntless grin and +the mop of carroty hair. A handy seaman tossed a bight +of line over his shoulders as he bobbed past the forefoot +of the brig and he was yanked bodily over the bulwark +like a strange species of fish. Flopping on deck +he waved a skinny arm in greeting and then Jack Cockrell +rushed at him, lifted him bodily, and dragged him +to the cabin.</p> + +<p>"What ho, comrade!" said the dripping merman. +"Blast my eyes, but I was sick with worry for you. I +left you in that swamp——"</p> + +<p>"And I thought you dead, Joe. For the love o' +heaven, tell me how you fared and what——"</p> + +<p>Captain Bonnet interfered to say:</p> + +<p>"I treated you more courteously than this, Jack. +Let us make him comfortable."</p> + +<p>Accepting the rebuke, Jack bustled his amazing +friend into a change of clothes and saw that he was well +fed. Little the worse for his watery pilgrimage, Joe +Hawkridge explained at his leisure:</p> + +<p>"Ned Rackham took the others away in the snow, as +I tell ye, Cap'n Bonnet, and there was I in the doleful +dumps. Prayers get answered and miracles do happen, +for next day there come a-floatin' to the beach a cask +full of grub and water. Good Peter Tobey, the carpenter's +mate, had a hand in launchin' it, no doubt, but +the Lord hisself steered the blessed cask. Well, while +I set a-giving thanks and thinkin' one thing an' another,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +I figgered that when I'd ate all the grub and swigged +the water, I was no further along."</p> + +<p>"And so you thought you would trust the Lord +again," suggested Captain Bonnet.</p> + +<p>"Aye, sir, that was it. By watchin' the tides I reckoned +I might drift to another island and so work to the +coast, taking my provisions with me. There was some +small line in the cask that Peter Tobey had wrapped +the stores in, and I knotted a harness about the cask +that I could slip an arm in, and off I goes when the tide +sets right. But some kind of a dratted cross-current +ketched me and I'm sailin' out to sea, I finds, without +compass or cross-staff. Bound to get to London River, +eh, Jack, same as we started out on the silly little raft."</p> + +<p>"Whew, this adventure was bad enough," cried Jack, +"but when you saw Ned Rackham's pirates in the boat, +and you couldn't run away,—I wonder, honest, Joe, you +didn't die of fright."</p> + +<p>"What for? This is no trade for a nervous wight. +And now for a bloody frolic with Blackbeard's bullies."</p> + +<p>"There is a share of his treasure for you, Joe, as soon +as we can go find it," gleefully announced Master Cockrell. +"I have the chart drawn all true with mine own +hand. Let me get it."</p> + +<p>While the two lads pored entranced over the map of +the branching creek and the pine-covered knoll, the crew +of the <i>Royal James</i> were overhauling weapons and +clearing the ship for action. It disappointed them to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +lack the twenty men whom they had expected to find +marooned but this made them no less eager for battle. +Concerning Ned Rackham, there was no feud with him +or grudge to square and he could go his way in the little +trading snow without fear of molestation from Stede +Bonnet.</p> + +<p>Under cover of night the <i>Royal James</i> worked back to +the sandy islands and anchored in the channel. One of +her boats had ventured within sight of the Inlet for a +stealthy reconnaissance and reported that the <i>Revenge</i> +was still in the harbor. Captain Bonnet was considering +his plan of attack. He said nothing about it to Jack +Cockrell and his chum, the merman, and they greedily +listened to the gossip of the petty officers or thrashed out +theories of their own.</p> + +<p>To sail boldly into the harbor was a ticklish risk to +run as there was no pilot aboard who knew the inner +channel and the depths of water. All the gunners were +in favor of attempting it because they yearned to settle +it with crashing broadsides. But the battered, hairy sea-dogs +who had fought it out in hand-to-hand conflicts on +the Caribbean were for leaving the brig in safe water and +sending fifty men in boats to board the <i>Revenge</i> at the +first break of day.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the fo'castle argument, Captain Bonnet +sent for Jack Cockrell and told him:</p> + +<p>"You are to keep out of harm's way, my young gamecock. +I have undertaken to deliver you to your es<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>teemed +uncle with arms and legs intact, and your head +on your shoulders."</p> + +<p>"But I am lusty enough to poke about with a pike +or serve at a gun tackle," protested the unhappy Master +Cockrell.</p> + +<p>"I expect you to obey me," was the stern mandate. +"You will have company. This Joe Hawkridge is to +stay with you."</p> + +<p>"But he is a rare hand in a fight, Captain Bonnet. +You should have seen him in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>."</p> + +<p>"The boy is weak and all unstrung, though he carries +it bravely, Jack. And Blackbeard's men would take +special pains to kill him as a deserter."</p> + +<p>By this humane verdict the two lads were shielded +from peril, as far as it lay within Stede Bonnet's power. +They should have felt grateful to him but on the contrary +it made them quite peevish and they sulked by +themselves up in the bow of the ship until it was time +to eat again. Then their gnawing appetites persuaded +them to forgive their considerate host.</p> + +<p>The pirates moved about the deck until far into the +night while the sparks flew from cutlass blades pressed +to the whirling grindstone. Tubs were filled with hand-grenades +and fire-pots, the deck strewn with sand, the +magazine opened and powder passed up. Stede Bonnet +was careful to see for himself that all things were in +order. At such times he was a martinet of a soldier.</p> + +<p>Anxiously he watched the weather signs, as did every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +seasoned sailor on board. It bade fair to be a bright +morning with an easterly air and this would carry the +brig into the harbor with the minimum danger of stranding +if the lead were cast often enough. Joe Hawkridge +and Jack Cockrell were of some assistance in explaining +the marks and bearings of the channel, and Captain +Bonnet consulted them over the chart unrolled upon +the cabin table. He had made up his mind to sail the +brig in and risk the hazards of shoal water. When he +went on deck, Jack thought of a topic as thrilling as +this imminent duel between ships and he remarked with +joyous excitement:</p> + +<p>"Now, Joe, as soon as ever Blackbeard gets his drubbing, +we beg a boat and men and gear of Captain Bonnet +and go up the creek to fish out the treasure chest +and dig in the knoll."</p> + +<p>"Hook your fish before you fry 'em," replied the +sagacious apprentice-boy. "This scrummage with the +<i>Revenge</i> will be no dancin' heel-and-toe. A bigger ship, +more guns and men, and a Blackbeard who will fight +like a demon when he's cornered. Crazy though he may +be, he is the most dangerous pirate afloat."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>OUR HEROES SEEK SECLUSION</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>A</big>N hour before dawn the anchor was aweigh and +the <i>Royal James</i> drifted ahead like a shadow, in +between the outer islands where the fairway was +wide and safe. Her gun-ports were open and every +man was alertly at his station. It was a silent ship excepting +when an officer passed an order along. Joe +Hawkridge began to feel more sanguine of winning +against odds. He had never seen such iron discipline as +this in the bedlam aboard the <i>Revenge</i>. Stede Bonnet +knew how to slacken the reins and when to apply the +curb. His men were loyal because he dealt out justice +as well as severity.</div> + +<p>"The captain says we must go below when the action +commences, Joe," dismally observed Jack Cockrell.</p> + +<p>"It goes against the grain but we will not dispute +him," was the sage reply. "We needn't be idle. You +can lend a hand with the powder or pass the water +buckets to douse the fire if she gets ablaze. And there's +the wounded to carry into the cockpit and the blood to +mop up, and——"</p> + +<p>"Enough o' that," cried Jack, getting pale about the +gills. "You take it like a butcher!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What else is it, you big moon-calf? Set me safe +ashore in that Charles Town of yours, and I hope ne'er +to see another weapon barring a spoon and a knife to +cut my vittles."</p> + +<p>"There is sense in that," agreed young Master Cockrell.</p> + +<p>Smartly handled, the brig crept in as far as she dared +go without more light by which to avoid the shallower +water. The anchor was dropped to a short cable and +buoyed ready to slip. It was estimated that the distance +from Blackbeard's ship was somewhat more than +a mile. The stars faded and the cloudless sky began to +take on a roseate hue. The light breeze which had +breathed like a cool zephyr through the night was dying +in languid catspaws. Gradually the dark outline of +coastal swamp and forest was uncurtained. And eager +eyes were able to discern the yellow spars and blurred +hull of the <i>Revenge</i> against the gloomy background.</p> + +<p>Stede Bonnet's brig was, of course, pricked out much +more sharply with the seaward horizon behind her. To +her crew, in this hushed morning, there came a prolonged, +shrill note that was like the call of a bird. It +trilled with a silvery sweetness and was repeated over +and over again.</p> + +<p>"A bos'n's pipe," said Captain Bonnet, a hand cupped +at his ear. "Blackbeard has sighted us and is mustering +his crew."</p> + +<p>So faint was the breeze that the command was given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +to man two boats and take a hawser from the brig to tow +her through the inner channel. Before they were in +motion, however, the pearly mist began to roll out of the +Cherokee swamp as if a great cauldron were steaming. +The weather favored it, heat in the air and little wind. +The mist seemed also to rise from the water, hanging +low but as thick as a summer fog. It shrouded the coast +and Blackbeard's ship and crept out across the harbor +until the brig was enveloped in it.</p> + +<p>"'Twas like this when we swum ashore and found the +pirogue, Cap'n Bonnet," said Joe Hawkridge. "A curious +kind o' white smother from the swamp."</p> + +<p>"And how long did it hang thus?" was the impatient +query.</p> + +<p>"When the sun was well up, sir, it seemed to burn +away like. It has the same look as the fever-breedin' +vapors of Darien and Yucatan."</p> + +<p>Captain Bonnet called his boats back and was in an +ugly humor. There was no towing the brig through +this bothersome fog which obscured every mark and left +a man bewildered. And instead of surprising Blackbeard +unprepared, he would now have time to make his +ship ready. However, Stede Bonnet was not a man to +wring his hands because a well-laid scheme went wrong. +Without delay the crew was assembled in the waist and +he spoke to them from the break of the poop.</p> + +<p>"We shall make this weather serve our purpose, lads. +Fill the boats, every man to his billet. The mates will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +see to it that the oars are well muffled. Silence above all +things. Nimbly now."</p> + +<p>There was no need to say more. They fathomed the +strategy which would enable them to approach Blackbeard's +ship unheard and unseen and then swarm over +her side in a ferocious onslaught. Cheerily they took +stock of their weapons, drank a health from a tub of stiff +grog, and lined up for Captain Bonnet's inspection. +They wore clean clothes, the best they could find in +their bags, as has always been the sailor's habit when +going into action. The ship was left in charge of +the navigator with a few men who were the least stalwart +or experienced in such desperate adventures as +this.</p> + +<p>Stede Bonnet went in command of the largest boat to +lead the party and single out Blackbeard as his own particular +foe. There was a large chance that he might not +return and he therefore left instructions for the disposal +of the brig, advising the navigator to take her to Charles +Town and there sue for the king's pardon in behalf of +those on board. He shook hands with Jack Cockrell +and Joe Hawkridge, bade them be careful of their own +safety, and with no more ado took his place in the boat. +The flotilla stole away from the brig, sunburned, savage +men with bright weapons for whom life was like a throw +of the dice, and the pearly fog concealed them when they +had passed no more than a cable-length away. So skilfully +was the sound of the oars deadened that you would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +not have guessed that boats were moving across the +harbor.</p> + +<p>"Blackbeard fights like a tiger but trust Cap'n Bonnet +to outwit him," said Joe Hawkridge, who stood at +the brig's rail with Jack at his elbow.</p> + +<p>"It will be mighty hard waiting," was the tense reply. +"We shall know when they find the <i>Revenge</i>. They +are not apt to miss her, with a compass in the captain's +boat."</p> + +<p>"Aye, there'll be noise enough. Plaguey queer, eh, +Jack, to be a-loafin' with nothing to see, like your head +was wrapped in a blanket. They ought to fetch alongside +Blackbeard in a half-hour. Go turn the sand-glass +in the cabin."</p> + +<p>They fidgeted about in aimless fashion and fell into +talk with the navigator, or artist, as he was called, a +middle-aged man who had been a master mariner in the +slave trade. He told them a yarn or two of the Guinea +coast but he, too, was restless and left them to stump up +and down the deck and peer toward the shore. Jack +dodged into the cabin to watch the sand trickle into the +bottom of the glass. Never was a half-hour so long in +passing.</p> + +<p>A yell from Joe Hawkridge recalled him to the deck. +He listened but heard no distant pistol shots or the +hoarse uproar of men in mortal combat. Joe raised a +warning hand and told him to stand still. There came +a faint splash. It might have been a fish leaping but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +Joe insisted that it was made by a careless oar. Jack +heard it again and then fancied he caught the softened +beat of muffled oars close at hand.</p> + +<p>"They lost the course. The fog confused 'em," said +he, in great disgust.</p> + +<p>"But why come back to the ship?" demanded Joe. +"They could lay and wait for the fog to lift a little. +And I told Cap'n Bonnet to bear to the north'ard if in +doubt and find the shore of the swamp. Then he could +coast back to the beach and so strike the <i>Revenge</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well, here they come, Joe, and there is sure to be a +good reason. Mayhap the fog cleared to landward and +they intend to tow the brig in, after all."</p> + +<p>Just then the foremost boat became visible and behind +it was the vague shape of another. The puzzled lads +stared and stared and the hair stiffened on their scalps +for sheer horror. These were not the boats from the +<i>Royal James</i>. They were filled with Blackbeard's own +pirates from the <i>Revenge</i>!</p> + +<p>The explanation was simple enough. Joe Hawkridge +read it at a glance. Blackbeard was not the +drunken chuckle-head that Stede Bonnet had assumed +him to be. He, too, had taken advantage of the fog to +attempt to carry the enemy by stealth. The wit of the +one had been matched by the other. And the two flotillas +had gone wide enough in passing to escape mutual +discovery. In a way it was a pirates' comedy but there +were two spectators who foresaw a personal tragedy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +They fled for the cabin and scuttled through a small +door in a bulkhead which admitted them to the dark hold +of the ship.</p> + +<p>It was their purpose to hide in the remotest nook that +could be found. Falling over odds and ends of cargo +they burrowed like rats and stowed themselves behind a +tier of mahogany logs which had been taken out of some +prize or other. They were in the bottom of the ship, +upon the rough floor covering the stone ballast. Then +these frightened stowaways found respite to confer in +tremulous whispers.</p> + +<p>"This is the very dreadfulest fix of all, Joe. I had a +fair look at Blackbeard himself, in the stern of the boat,—red +ribbons in his whiskers, and his sash stuck full of +pistols."</p> + +<p>"That old rip isn't an easy man to mistake, Jack. +Now the fat <i>is</i> in the fire," replied the Hawkridge lad +who, for once, appeared discouraged. "Cap'n Bonnet +is a vast sight happier than us. He gets the <i>Revenge</i> +without strikin' a blow."</p> + +<p>"But Blackbeard gets <i>us</i>," wailed Master Cockrell. +"And I helped to chase him through the swamp after we +rammed the pirogue into his wherry and capsized the +treasure chest. Do you suppose he knew me just now?"</p> + +<p>"Those little red eyes of his are passing keen. But +didn't ye tell me of smearing your face with mud that +day to fend off the mosquitoes? It may ha' disguised +you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A little comfort in that, Joe, but to be found in +Stede Bonnet's brig bodes ill enough. Of a truth we be +born to trouble as the sparks fly upward ever since we +joined the pirates. What is your advice?"</p> + +<p>"To stay hid below and pray God for another shift +o' fortune," piously answered Joe. "There is no fear +of Blackbeard's rummagin' the hold at present. He +must decide if he'll fight the <i>Revenge</i> or give her the +slip. And whilst him and his men are busied on deck, I +can make bold to search for stores fit to eat. Cap'n +Bonnet allus had a well-found ship. Blast it, Jack, my +hearty, stock us up and we could lie tucked in the forepeak +for a month o' Sundays."</p> + +<p>"But the rats and the darkness and the stinks, and to +be expecting discovery," was Jack's dreary comment.</p> + +<p>"It would ha' looked like a parlor to me when I was +on that barren cay and sighted Ned Rackham's rogues +coming off from the snow," said the other stowaway. +He was beginning to recuperate from the shock.</p> + +<p>They were in a mood for no more speech but sat in +this rayless cavern of a hold and strove to hear any +sounds which might indicate the course of events on +deck. There was no hubbub of firearms nor the cries of +wounded men. It was foolish to assume that the dozen +seamen who had been left to keep the ship would attempt +resisting Blackbeard's mob of pirates all primed +for slaughter. When quietude seemed to reign all +through the ship Joe Hawkridge whispered this opinion:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If his fancy was to deal with 'em later, he would +pitch the lot down here in the hold. Failing that, Jack, +he has offered 'em the chance to enlist. Being so few, +they can't plot mischief, and he has lost the hands he left +aboard the <i>Revenge</i>."</p> + +<p>"But I thought all this crew was true as steel to Stede +Bonnet, Joe."</p> + +<p>"Many a man'll change his mind to save his life," was +the reply. "And these lads aren't what you call Cap'n +Bonnet's picked men. As for the navigator, Blackbeard +needs him to fill Ned Rackham's berth."</p> + +<p>Soon Joe Hawkridge told Jack to stay where he was. +Now was the time to explore the lower part of the ship. +Squeezing his comrade's hand in farewell, Joe crawled +aft to make his way to a rough bulkhead which walled +off a storeroom built next to the cabin. The boys had +passed through it in their headlong flight below. Here +was kept the bulk of the ship's provisions. Joe Hawkridge +had learned of the storeroom through helping the +steward hoist out a barrel of pork.</p> + +<p>With his heart in his throat the venturesome lad +groped like a blind man, grievously barking his shins +and his knuckles, until he bumped into the timbers of the +bulkhead. Inching himself along, he came to the small +door which had been cut into the hold to connect with +the main hatch. He had slipped the iron bar behind +him during his flight with Jack Cockrell. Pulling the +door ajar he wormed through into the storeroom which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +was also dark as midnight. His fingers touched what +seemed to be a tierce of beef but he had no tools to start +the head or the hoops. In the same manner he discovered +other casks and barrels but they were utterly useless +to him. Here was food enough, he reflected, if a +man had teeth to gnaw through oak staves.</p> + +<p>Now and again he had to cross to the other door which +led into the cabin passageway and press his ear against +a plank to make certain against surprise. Up and down +the dark room he blundered, refusing to admit himself +beaten. The first bit of cheer was when his foot struck +a round object as solid as a round shot and he picked up +a small Dutch cheese. This renewed his courage and he +ransacked the corners on hands and knees. Blackbeard's +treasure chest was not half so precious as a side of salted +fish which he ran down by scent, saying to himself:</p> + +<p>"With this rancid cheese and the slab o' ancient cod, +ye could smell my course a league to wind'ard."</p> + +<p>In a crumpled sack he found a few pounds of what +seemed to be wheat flour, by the feel and taste of it. +Poor stuff as it was, dry and uncooked, he added it to +his stock.</p> + +<p>"Rubbishy vittles," he sighed. "They may keep a +man alive but he'll choke to death a-swallowin' of 'em."</p> + +<p>Water was the desperate necessity and it was not to +be sought for in the storeroom. There was rum enough, +the place reeked with it, but to thirsty throats it was so +much liquid fire. Joe was resolved not to return to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +Jack Cockrell without a few pints of water if reckless +enterprise could procure it. Was the cabin still empty? +He stood for a long time and listened but there was not +a sound beyond the door of the passageway. Taking +his courage in both hands he pushed at the door and it +creaked open on rusty hinges. Light as a feather he +moved one foot in front of the other, halted, advanced +another step, and so entered the large cabin in which +Stede Bonnet had lived with a Spartan simplicity.</p> + +<p>What Joe coveted was the porous jar or water-monkey +which hung suspended in a netting above the +table. It was kept filled, he knew, in order to cool the +tepid water from the casks. A heavenly sight it was to +him to see the drops sweating on its rounded sides. He +snatched it down and was about to make a swift retirement, +but still spread upon the table he noted the chart +of the Carolina and Virginia coasts which he had pored +over with Stede Bonnet. This he delayed to roll up and +tuck under one arm, not that he expected to employ it +himself, but to make cruising more difficult for Blackbeard.</p> + +<p>This bit of strategy held him a moment too long. He +shot a glance over his shoulder, alarmed by a tread on +the companion ladder. Horrified he beheld a pair of +Spanish boots with scarlet, crinkled morocco tops, and +they encased bandy legs which were strong and thick. +What saved the miserable young Hawkridge was that +the occupant of these splendid boots paused half-way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +down the ladder to shout a profane command or two in +those husky accents so feared by all lawful shipmen.</p> + +<p>Before that sable beard came into his field of vision +the lad was in full stride, running like a whippet, chart +under one arm, water-jar under the other. He checked +himself to ease the door behind him just as the truculent +captor of the <i>Royal James</i> brig reached the foot of the +ladder and let his gaze rove about the cabin. Sinking +to the floor of the storeroom, Joe was afraid that for +once he was about to swoon like a silly maid at sight of +a mouse. As he had truly said, this pirating was no +trade for a nervous man. Never mind, a miss was as +good as a mile. Thankful for the darkness that closed +around him, he slung the water-monkey over his shoulder +in its hammock of netted cord, pushed the side of +codfish inside his shirt, poked the chart into his boot-leg, +put the cheese in the sack atop the flour, and was +freighted for his journey through the hold.</p> + +<p>This he accomplished after great difficulty and had to +whistle and wait for a response before he could be sure +of Jack Cockrell's whereabouts.</p> + +<p>"What luck, Joe?" was the plaintive question. "I'd +sooner starve than be left alone in this dungeon."</p> + +<p>"Behold the dashing 'prentice-boy with another hairbreadth +escape to his credit," replied the hero. "Be +thankful for your dinner 'cause Blackbeard all but made +a mouthful of me."</p> + +<p>"You saw him, Joe?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Up to the middle of him, and that was a-plenty. +Don't ask me. I had a bad turn."</p> + +<p>"I feel sick, too," said Jack. "The smell of this vile +bilge-water breeds a nausea, and, whew, 'tis worse than +ever."</p> + +<p>"Bilge, my eye! You sniff the banquet I fetched ye. +Here's a prime cheese that was hatched when Trimble +Rogers was a pup."</p> + +<p>Jack offered a feeble apology and felt revived after a +pull at the water-monkey. What they craved most was +a spark of light, the glimmer of a candle to lift this appalling +gloom which pressed down like a visible burden. +With nothing to do but discuss the situation from every +slant and angle of conjecture, it was Joe Hawkridge's +theory that Stede Bonnet would not rest content with +regaining the <i>Revenge</i> but would come out to attack the +brig as soon as the wind favored. His hatred of Blackbeard +was one motive but there was a point of honor +even more compelling.</p> + +<p>"He called you his guest, Jack," explained Joe, "and +I never did see a man so jealous of his plighted word +when once he swore it. He took obligation to set you +safe in Charles Town, d'ye see? And powder smoke +won't stop him."</p> + +<p>"Will Blackbeard tarry for a fight, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Not to my notion. He knows well this brig is no +match for the <i>Revenge</i>, knows it better than did Cap'n +Bonnet, what with all the heavy metal slung aboard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +from the sloop. And what does Blackbeard gain by +having this brig hammered into a cocked hat? Fate +tricked him comically with this swappin' about of ships."</p> + +<p>"And will he linger on this coast? Oh, Joe, if he +goes for a long cruise, what in mercy's name becomes of +us two?"</p> + +<p>"A long cruise, it looks like, shipmate. In the <i>Revenge</i> +he could laugh at the small king's men-o'-war +commissioned to hunt him down. He was ready to slap +alongside any of 'em. Now 'tis different. As another +flea in his ear, I stole the only chart of these waters. +To the south'ard he'll turn, and I will bet that rampageous +cheese on it."</p> + +<p>"Clear to the Bay of Honduras?" said Jack.</p> + +<p>"As far as that, at a guess. Or he may skirt the +Floridas to look for Spanish prizes and put in at the +Dry Tortugas which is a famous rendezvous for pirates +of the Main. He will be hot to fit himself with a bigger +ship, by capture or by some knavish trick such as he +dealt Cap'n Bonnet."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>BLACKBEARD APPEARS IN FIRE AND BRIMSTONE</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>H</big>ERE was a tragic predicament from which +there was no release. Jack Cockrell was firmly +convinced that Blackbeard must have recognized +him that day in the swamp while Joe felt no less +certain that he was marked for death because he had +been one of the party of marooned mutineers. The +hope of prolonging their existence by means of raiding +the storeroom had ebbed after Joe's investigation. Such +provisions as had been broken out of bulk were kept in +lockers and pantries on deck where they were convenient +to the galley and forecastle. It was realized also that +their twittering nerves could not long withstand the +darkness and suspense once the brig had put out to sea. +Joe Hawkridge had nothing more to say about enduring +it a month o' Sundays.</div> + +<p>While the brig remained at anchor they clung to the +thought that Captain Stede Bonnet might intervene in +their behalf. It did bring them a gleam of solace to +imagine him hoisting sail on the <i>Revenge</i> and crowding +out to rake the brig with his formidable broadsides. +And yet they were in doubt whether the <i>Revenge</i> was +fit to proceed at once, what with all the work there had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +been to do, rigging a new foremast, caulking leaky +seams, repairing the other ravages of the storm.</p> + +<p>These pitiable stowaways had no means of telling one +hour from another until, at length, they heard over their +heads the faint, musical strokes of the ship's bell on the +forecastle head. This led them to believe that the fog +had cleared else Blackbeard would not have revealed the +vessel's position. And lifting fog meant a breeze to +sweep it away from the harbor.</p> + +<p>"Eight bells she strikes, the first o' the forenoon +watch," said Joe. "We have been cooped in this black +pit a matter of three hours a'ready."</p> + +<p>"No more than that?" groaned Jack. "It seems at +least a week. We must divert ourselves in some wise. +What say if I learn you a bit o' Latin? And you can +say over such sea songs as come to mind, for me to tuck +in my memory."</p> + +<p>"Well said, my worthy scholar. 'Tis high time we +bowled ahead with my eddication as a proper gentleman."</p> + +<p>Jack began to conjugate <i>amo</i>, <i>amas</i>, <i>amat</i>, and the +pupil droned it after him but the verb <i>to love</i> recalled a +black-eyed lass who had stolen his heart in the Azores +and he veered from the Latin lesson to confide that sentimental +passage. So Jack hammered nouns of the first +declension into him until they grew tired of that, and +then the sea waif played his part by reciting such fo'castle +ballads as "<i>Neptune's Raging Fury</i>; <i>or The Gallant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +Seaman's Sufferings</i>," and "<i>Sir Walter Raleigh Sailing +in the Lowlands</i>."</p> + +<p>This was better than the slow agony of waiting in silence, +but Joe spoiled it by turning lovelorn and Jack +bemourned fair Dorothy Stuart of Charles Town whom +he would never greet again, and they sang very softly +together a verse of "<i>The Maid's Lamentation</i>" which +went like this:</p> + +<div class='poem'>"There shall be no Scarf go on my Head,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">No Comb into my Hair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">No Fire burn, no Candle light</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To shew my Beauty fair,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">For never will I married be</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Until the Day I die,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Since the Seas and the Winds</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Has parted my Love and me."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>This left them really in worse spirits than before, and +they drowsed off to sleep, and no wonder, after such a +night as they had passed. Accustomed to broken +watches, Joe Hawkridge slept uneasily with one ear +open. Once or twice he sat up, heard Jack's steady +snores, and lay down again. It was the ship's bell which +finally brought him to, and he counted the strokes.</p> + +<p>"Five bells, but what watch is it?" he muttered anxiously. +"How long was I napping? Lost track o' +the time, so I have, and can't say if it's night or day."</p> + +<p>He sat blinking into the darkness and then had an in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>spiration. +So staunch and well-kept was the brig that +the deck seams were tight and no light filtered through. +Joe left his hiding-place and groped along to where he +thought the main hatch ought to be. Gazing upward he +saw a gleam like a silvered line between the coaming and +the edge of the canvas cover which was battened with +iron bars. This persuaded him that the day had not yet +faded, and he concluded that he had heard the bell strike +either in the afternoon watch or the second dog watch of +early evening.</p> + +<p>This he imparted to Jack, after prodding him awake. +They mulled it over and agreed that Captain Bonnet +must have found the <i>Revenge</i> unready to weigh anchor +or he would have engaged the brig ere this. Perhaps +there was not breeze enough for either vessel to move. +Another hour of this stressful tedium and they heard a +sound of sharp significance. It was the lap-lap of +water against the vessel's side. No more than the thickness +of the planking was between them and this tinkling +sea, and Joe exclaimed, in an agitated whisper:</p> + +<p>"A breeze o' wind! Gentle it draws, but steady, like +it comes off the land at sundown."</p> + +<p>"The same as it did when we were blown offshore on +the little raft, after we quitted the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>," +replied Jack.</p> + +<p>"Blackbeard will take advantage of it to make for +the open sea. There be three things offered us, Master +Cockrell, to starve or go mad in this blighted hold, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +sally on deck and beg mercy, which means a short shift, +or to climb out softly in the night and try to swim +for it."</p> + +<p>"Swim to what, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Swim to the bottom, most likely. But we might +fetch one o' them cays or the coast itself if he steers close +in to find smooth water. 'Tis the worst odds yet but +I'd sooner drown than tarry in this vessel. One miracle +was wrought when the cask came driftin' to the beach to +save me, and who knows but the Lord can spare another +one for the salvation of us poor lads that mean to do +right and forsake piratin'."</p> + +<p>As they expected, there came soon the familiar racket +of making sail and trimming yards and the clank of the +capstan pawls. Then the anchor flukes scraped and +banged against the bow timbers. The vessel heeled a +little and the lapping water changed its tune to a swash-swash +as the hull pushed it aside. The brig was alive +and in motion.</p> + +<p>"She makes no more than two or three knots," observed +Joe, after a little while. "Ye can tell by the +feel of her. The wind is steady but small."</p> + +<p>"Then he can't go clear of the islands till long after +night," thankfully returned Jack.</p> + +<p>Joe made another trip to crane his neck at the main +hatch. The bright thread of daylight had dimmed. He +could scarce discern it. The lads occupied themselves +with reckoning the distance, the hour, and the vessel's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +speed. Now that Joe had satisfied himself that the end +of the day was near, he knew what the ship's bell meant +when it was struck every half-hour. They would await +the passing of another hour, until two bells of the first +watch, by which time they calculated the brig should be +in the wide, outer channel between the seaward islands.</p> + +<p>The plan was to emerge through the forepeak in the +very bows of the ship where a scuttle was let into the +deck. There they might hope to lower themselves to +the chain stays under the bowsprit and so drop into the +sea. They would be washed past the ship, close to her +side, and into the wake, and there was little chance +of drawing attention. True it was that in this hard +choice they preferred to swim to the bottom if so it had +to be.</p> + +<p>They crouched where they were hid, waiting to hear +the fateful signal of two bells. It struck, mellow, clear, +and they were about to creep in the direction of the forepeak. +But Joe Hawkridge gripped his comrade's arm +and held him fast. A whispered warning and they +ceased to move. Behind them, in the after part of the +ship, gleamed a lantern. It illumined the open door of +the bulkhead which walled off the storeroom. And in +this doorway, like a life-sized portrait, grotesque and +sinister, set in a frame, was the figure of Blackbeard.</p> + +<p>He advanced into the hold and the cowering stowaways +assumed that he had come to search them out. +The impulse was to dash into the forepeak and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +plunge overboard, flinging away all caution, but before +their palsied muscles could respond, the behavior of +Blackbeard held them irresolute and curious. He had +turned his back to them and was shouting boisterously to +others to follow him. Seven men came through the +doorway, one after the other, hanging back with evident +reluctance. It was impossible to discern who they were, +whether officers or seamen. Every one carried in his +arms what looked to be a tub or an iron pot. These +they set upon the dunnage boards which covered the ballast +and made a flooring in the hold.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard bellowed at them to squat in a circle, which +they meekly did. He was in one of his fiendishly mirthful +humors, rumpling his beard, strutting to and fro, +laughing in senseless outbursts. At such times his men +were most fearful for their lives. What sort of an infernal +pastime he had now concocted was beyond the +imagination of the lads who were concealed a dozen +yards away. He was not hunting them, this much was +plain, and it seemed wise to be quiet and avoid drawing +attention to themselves.</p> + +<p>They saw Blackbeard ignite a torch at the lantern +and poke it into one pot after another. Flames began +to burn, blue and green and yellow, and lurid smoke +rolled to the deck-beams overhead. Amid this glare +and reek of combustibles, Blackbeard waved his torch +and tremendously proclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Come, lads, we be all devils together, with a hell of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +our own,—brimstone fires and pitch. Now, braggarts, +see how long ye can bear it. 'Tis a foretaste of what's +in store for all hands. At this game I'll outlast ye, for, +harkee, I sold my soul to the Old Scratch as is well +known."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/illus7.jpg" width="407" height="500" alt="HE LOOMED LIKE THE BELIAL WHOM HE WAS SO FOND OF CLAIMING AS HIS MENTOR" title="HE LOOMED LIKE THE BELIAL WHOM HE WAS SO FOND OF CLAIMING AS HIS MENTOR" /> +<span class="caption">HE LOOMED LIKE THE BELIAL WHOM HE WAS SO FOND OF CLAIMING AS HIS MENTOR</span> +</div> + +<p>He stirred his infernal pots and the greasy smoke +rolled upward in choking volume. The brimstone +fumes were so vile and noxious that the victims of +this outlandish revel soon gasped and wheezed. But +they dared not object nor move from their places among +the villainous pots. Blackbeard enjoyed their sufferings, +taunting them as milksops and poltroons who +could not endure even this taste of Gehenna. He himself +appeared to be unaffected by it, lurching from one +man to another, whacking them with the burning torch +or playfully upsetting them. In the gaseous pall of +smoke he loomed like the Belial whom he was so fond of +claiming as his mentor.</p> + +<p>Finally one of his involuntary guests toppled over in +a faint. Blackbeard was kind enough to haul him to the +door and boot him through it. A second man dragged +himself thither. A third found voice to supplicate. The +witch-fires still smoked and stewed in the pots and +Blackbeard had proved that he was the toughest demon +of them all.</p> + +<p>The two stowaways watched this demented exploit in +sheer wonderment. The fumes were not dense in +their part of the hold and they could breathe, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +they well-nigh strangled in trying to refrain from +coughing. The fires of tar and brimstone and what not +cast so much light that they dared not betray themselves +by crawling toward the forepeak. The upright beams +between the keelson and the deck threw black shadows +over them and they were in no great peril of detection so +long as they stayed motionless.</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge had heard gossip of this extraordinary +amusement as a kind of initiation for hands newly +joining Blackbeard's ship. He therefore read it that +these unfortunates were some of Stede Bonnet's men +who had been captured with the brig. They had been +allowed to enlist and were being taught to respect their +new master.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell had hugely admired young Joe for his +ready wit and coolness in other crises of their mutual +fortunes but now came a moment in which the astute sea +urchin surpassed himself. It was not too much to say +that he displayed absolute genius with the sturdy Master +Cockrell to aid and abet him. Joe clawed in the dark +until he found the sack with a few pounds of wheat flour +in it. A quick whisper and his comrade grasped the +great idea. They took no thought of a sequel. They +would trust to opportunity. Hastily they rubbed the +flour into their shirts and breeches. They covered their +faces with it and lavishly sprinkled their hair. They +looked at each other in the shadow of the beams and +were pleased with their handiwork.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> + +<p>Another whispered consultation and Joe possessed +himself of the cannon-ball of a cheese while Jack +grasped the side of salt-fish by the tail. They resembled +two whitened clowns of a pantomime but in spirit +they were as grimly serious as the menace of death could +make them.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard was dancing clumsily, like a drunken +bear, and deriding with lewd oaths the two or three tortured +survivors of his brimstone carnival. In a high, +wailing voice which rose to a shriek there was borne to +him the words:</p> + +<p>"Ye dirked poor Jesse Strawn and left him rotting +in the swamp. I was a true and faithful seaman, Cap'n +Teach."</p> + +<p>A deeper voice boomed out, filling the hold with unearthly +echoes:</p> + +<p>"I am the shade of the master mariner whom ye did +foully murder off Matanzas and there is no rest for me +ten fathom down."</p> + +<p>The apparitions flitted out of the shadow and were +vaguely disclosed in the flickering glare from the brimstone +pots. The smoke gave them a wavering aspect as +though their shapes were unsubstantial. Blackbeard +stood beholding them in a trance of horror. With an +aimless finger he traced the sign of the cross and his +pallid lips moved in the murmur:</p> + +<p>"<i>The ghost o' Jesse Strawn! For the love of God, +forbear.</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a petition as pious as ever Christian uttered. +Forgotten was his wicked counterfeit of the nether region. +Again the shrill voice wailed:</p> + +<p>"Pity poor Jesse Strawn. I'll haunt ye by land and +sea, Cap'n Teach. Swear by the Book to let that treasure +chest lie at the bottom of the creek else I tear your +sinful soul from your body."</p> + +<p>The terrible Blackbeard was incapable of motion. +Huskily he muttered:</p> + +<p>"I'll ne'er seek the chest, good Jesse Strawn, an' it +please you to pass me by."</p> + +<p>The two spectres moved forward as the one of the +deeper voice declaimed:</p> + +<p>"Doomed I was to find no rest till I overtook your +ship, Ed'ard Teach. Each night you'll see me walk the +plank from your quarter-deck."</p> + +<p>The unhappy Blackbeard gibbered something and +would have fled as the spirits approached him. But +those bandy legs tottered and before he could turn the +awful visitants were upon him. One raised a round +shot above his head, or so it appeared to be, and smote +him full upon the crown. The other whirled a flat +bludgeon and hit him on the jaw. With the smell of +brimstone was mingled the pungent flavor of ripe cheese +and salt-fish. Blackbeard measured his length, and the +ghost of Jesse Strawn delayed an instant to dump a pot +of sizzling combustibles over him.</p> + +<p>Then the spirits twain made for the cabin at top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +speed. Several of the crew had rushed down to harken +to the strange disturbance. They scattered wildly at +the first glimpse of these phantoms, being superstitious +sailormen with many a wicked deed to answer for. +It flashed into Joe Hawkridge's mind that all the men +of the watch might be chased below, the hatches clapped +on them, and the mastery of the brig secured. Blackbeard +was absent for reasons best known to himself and +his pirates lacked leadership. A brace of ghosts could +put them to panic rout. And, no doubt, that wailing +message of dead Jesse Strawn had carried like the cry +of a banshee.</p> + +<p>The poop was deserted in the twinkling of an eye, +even to the pair of helmsmen and the officer of the watch. +Against the sky of night the unwelcome phantoms were +wan and luminous while the groans which issued from +them were enough to curdle the blood of the brawniest +pirate. He who had been Jack Cockrell in mortal guise +was quick to slide the cabin hatch closed and fasten it. +For the moment they had captured the armed brig +<i>Royal James</i> and as ferocious a crew of rascals as ever +scuttled a merchantman.</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge glided to the taffrail and peered over +the stern. A boat was towing behind the ship. It had +been left there for taking soundings or pulling the brig's +head around while she was still in the shoaler waters +near the coast. This was better than Joe had dared anticipate. +Feeling his way along the rail, he found the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +end of the rope which was belayed around a wooden pin. +Heaven be praised, they would not have to swim for it! +He beckoned his comrade to say in his ear:</p> + +<p>"They will soon find their wits. It 'ud be foolish to +try scaring 'em under hatches now that the jolly-boat +floats so handy. There's hard cases amongst 'em that +will begin shooting at us presently. Down the rope ye +go, Jack. I'll stand by and give 'em another dose of +poor Jesse Strawn."</p> + +<p>Over the rail flew the stouter phantom of the two and +slid like a white streak, fetching up in the boat with a +most earthly and substantial thump. With a farewell +wail the other ghost flung a limber leg over and shot +down so fast that his hands were scorched. To such +pirates as beheld this instant vanishment, these disturbing +spirits floated off into space. Jack cut the rope +with his knife and the boat dropped back in the shining +wake. They shoved out two heavy oars and fairly broke +their hearts in pulling dead into the wind where the brig +would have to tack to pursue them.</p> + +<p>The rattle of the oars and the discovery of the shorn +rope's end must have convinced the pirates who ran aft +that they had been tricked by mortal beings like themselves. +A musket spat a red streak of fire. Blocks +whined as the braces were hauled to change the brig's +course. In the light breeze she responded awkwardly +and soon hung in stays. Meanwhile the jolly-boat was +slowly working to windward while two frightened lads<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +tugged and swung until the flour turned to paste on +their dripping faces.</p> + +<p>Before the brig began to forge ahead, the boat was invisible +from her decks. This was evident because the +spatter of musket-fire ceased. Soon the fugitives heard +Blackbeard's harsh voice damning all hands. That +thick skull of his had not been cracked by the impact of +the solid cheese and he had been released from his brimstone +inferno. The ghosts rested on their oars. They +could watch the glimmering canvas of the brig and see +what her procedure might be. Soon she filled away and +forsook the attempt to find the boat. Blackbeard had +wisdom enough to avoid blundering about and putting +the brig aground in a chase so elusive as this.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, ye hairy son of Tophet," said Joe Hawkridge, +waving his hand at the disappearing vessel. +"And here's hoping I set your whiskers ablaze when I +turned the pot over 'em."</p> + +<p>"Did you hear him swear not to touch the treasure +chest, Joe? That was a master stroke of yours."</p> + +<p>"Aye, it was bright of me. But he thinks different +now. He knows we made a booby of him."</p> + +<p>"But we learned one thing,—he hasn't recovered the +treasure yet," suggested Jack.</p> + +<p>"He is such a powerful liar that I don't know as the +ghost o' Jesse Strawn could budge the truth out of him. +However, it was comfortin' to hear him swear it on his +marrow-bones. I fetched away the navigation chart,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +the one I poached from the cabin table. It gives us the +lay o' the coast."</p> + +<p>"What ho and whither bound?" was Jack's question. +"Here is a sail wound round a sprit beneath the +thwarts."</p> + +<p>"The wrong wind to head for Cap'n Bonnet and the +<i>Revenge</i>. This swag-bellied jolly-boat handles like a +firkin. We had best wait for day and then decide the +voyage."</p> + +<p>"Nothing to eat and no water, Joe. All I can find +is an empty pannikin."</p> + +<p>"You're a glutton," severely exclaimed young +Hawkridge. "After the banquet I served in the hold!"</p> + +<p>What Master Cockrell said in reply sounds as familiar +and as wistful to-day as when he spoke it two hundred +years ago.</p> + +<p>"I have had enough of wandering and strange adventures, +Joe. I want to go home."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>MR. PETER FORBES MOURNS HIS NEPHEW</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>I</big>T seems a long time, in the course of this story, since +the honorable Secretary of the Council, Mr. Peter +Arbuthnot Forbes, was forced to sail in to Charles +Town from the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> on that most humiliating +errand of finding medicines for Blackbeard's +fever-smitten rogues. For the sake of his own dear +nephew and the other hostages detained on board, he +had endeavored to perform his bargain and was returning +across the bar when the threatening clouds and other +portents of a violent storm caused the seamen to lose +heart. They put about and drove back into the harbor +for shelter in the very nick of time.</div> + +<p>These were pirates from Blackbeard's crew, it may +be recalled, with his grizzled, scarred boatswain at the +tiller. They had felt safe enough to swagger and ruffle +it through the streets of Charles Town and to terrify the +people. Their worthless lives were protected by the +hostages who waited in fear and trembling. The town +seethed with indignation and was hot with shame. +There would be no more of the friendly traffic with pirates.</p> + +<p>It was fully believed that the wretched Blackbeard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +would be as good as his word in allowing no more than +two days' grace. Therefore when Mr. Peter Forbes +came back in the boat to inform his neighbors that he +had been unable to reach the ship, it was sadly taken for +granted that those helpless passengers had been put to +death. Forthwith the pirates of the boat's crew were +seized and thrown in gaol. There they lay in double +irons until the Council met and ordered them to be tried. +In accordance with the verdict the six seamen and the +boatswain were promptly hanged by the neck from the +same gallows at White Point hard by the town. And +the people no longer shivered at the name of Blackbeard +nor feared his vengeance. Their fighting blood was +thoroughly aroused.</p> + +<p>Not long after this, there arrived from England a new +Governor of the Province, a man of honor and resolution +who approved what had been done. This Governor +Johnson proceeded to organize the town for defense, +building batteries on Sullivan's Island, recruiting the +seafaring men in the militia, and seeking to obtain merchant +vessels which could be employed as armed cruisers. +Learning that the Governor of North Carolina was in +a corrupt partnership with pirates, he sent messages to +Virginia to solicit coöperation.</p> + +<p>This activity made much work for Secretary Peter +Forbes who forsook his intention of going to England to +beg the coöperation of his Majesty's Government +against the plague of pirates. Dapper and plump and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +important as of yore, his florid face was clouded with +sorrow and he seemed a much older man. He mourned +his nephew, Jack Cockrell, as no more and felt as +though he had lost an only son. Every angry word he +had ever addressed the lad, every hasty punishment inflicted, +hurt him grievously.</p> + +<p>It was a solace to talk with winsome Dorothy Stuart +because hers was the bright optimism of youth and she +held so exalted an opinion of Jack's strength and courage +that she refused to abandon hope. And the fact that +he had confided to her his rash intention of running +away and signing as a pirate sooner than be transported +to school in England, persuaded her that he might be +alive.</p> + +<p>"From what you saw yourself, Mr. Forbes," said +she, "when Blackbeard boarded the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +with his dreadful men, our Jack won his fancy."</p> + +<p>"So it appeared, Dorothy. The boy boasted of +knocking a tall pirate on the head, and he read this +monster of a pirate more shrewdly than I. Yes, Blackbeard +took it with rough good humor. But Jack would +ne'er consent to sail with him. 'Twas that confounded +Stede Bonnet with his gallant air that turned the lad's +head. He cast a glamor over this trade of murder and +pillage."</p> + +<p>"Be that as it may," returned Dorothy, with a sigh +and a smile, "I confess to a romantic admiration for +this bold Captain Bonnet. He wears an air of mystery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +which is most becoming. We must not blame poor +Jack."</p> + +<p>"No, no, I am done with all that," hastily exclaimed +Uncle Peter. "All I dare hope is that when Blackbeard +is captured, we may learn what fate befell the +boy. It makes the torture worse to have him vanish +without trace."</p> + +<p>"And yet I have faith the sea will give him back to +us, Mr. Forbes. He will find you a chastened guardian, +not so apt to box his ears."</p> + +<p>Uncle Peter was so distressed by this gentle raillery +that the girl begged pardon and vowed that she would +never again offend. It so happened that they were sitting +together in Parson Throckmorton's garden a day +or so after this when a friend came running in with +tidings the most unexpected and incredible. A negro +slave had come from a plantation a few miles inland +and he bore a letter written by none other than Captain +Jonathan Wellsby of the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. It +narrated how he and the survivors of his ship had journeyed +that far after weeks of suffering and frequent +skirmishes with Indians. They were compelled to rest +and take shelter before undertaking the last stage of the +journey.</p> + +<p>Councilor Peter Forbes was magically changed. He +shed his dignity and threw his hat in air. Clasping Miss +Dorothy's slender waist, he planted a kiss on her damask +cheek. Parson Throckmorton was ramming snuff into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +his nostrils, his wig all awry, while he sneezed trumpet +blasts of rejoicing.</p> + +<p>"Survivors? <i>Kerchooh!</i> God bless me, that lusty +stripling will be amongst them,—<i>kerchooh</i>,—he can survive +anything but Greek and Latin,—<i>kerchooh</i>,—I will +spare the rod in future."</p> + +<p>"I told you so, Uncle Peter Forbes," laughed +Dorothy.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast," quoth he, in a mood suddenly sobered. +"Captain Wellsby includes no list of those in his +party."</p> + +<p>"But, of course, one of them is <i>sure</i> to be Master +Jack," she insisted.</p> + +<p>"I am a selfish man and a laggard officer of the +Crown," he exclaimed with air of great self-reproach. +"There are women in that company and wounded men, +no doubt. We must take them clothing, horses, food, a +surgeon."</p> + +<p>He bustled off to the Governor's house to find that +energetic gentleman absent at Sullivan's Island. Acting +for him, the Secretary of the Council sent the town +crier to summon all good citizens to the tavern green. +In the space of an hour the men and supplies were assembled +and with Mr. Forbes in command the band of +mercy made haste to reach the plantation. During the +march there was a buzz of anxious surmise. Was this +one and that alive or dead? Had the hostages been +slain and were these the sailormen of the <i>Plymouth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +Adventure</i> who had been set adrift by Blackbeard? +Councilor Forbes winced at hearing such talk as this, +but his heart beat high nevertheless, so confident was he +that he was about to behold his manly nephew.</p> + +<p>There was loud cheering when they came to the +cleared land of the indigo fields and saw a tattered +British ensign fluttering from the log stockade which +enclosed the huts of the overseer and his laborers. In +the gateway appeared the stalwart figure of Captain +Wellsby in ragged garments and with a limping gait. +Other men crowded behind him and responded with +huzzas which were like a feeble echo. The friends from +Charles Town rushed forward to embrace them, loudly +demanding to know where the rest were.</p> + +<p>"We fetched the women safe through," answered +Captain Wellsby whose eyes were sunken and the brown +beard streaked with gray. "Twelve good men of my +crew are dead, and three of the gentlemen passengers. +The swamps took toll of some and the Indians slew the +others. We were besieged a fortnight by the Yemassees,—a +hard experience all of it, and wondrous luck to +have escaped——"</p> + +<p>Councilor Forbes delayed while his companions entered +the huts to attend the invalids. He struggled to +ask a question but his voice was beyond control.</p> + +<p>"I understand," kindly spoke the shipmaster. +"Your lad is not with us, nor can I say if he be dead +or alive."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Indians carried him off?" weakly inquired the +uncle.</p> + +<p>"No, he was never seen after we abandoned ship. +Your Jack and a chum of his from Blackbeard's crew +were for making the beach on a small raft of their own +contrivance. This was after nightfall, Councilor, and +what with a land'ard breeze and a crotchety set of the +tide amongst the shoals, they floated out to sea."</p> + +<p>"On a small raft," muttered Mr. Forbes, "and a +vast ocean. I know of no ship voyaging to or from +these ports which might have found them."</p> + +<p>"I was in hopes of hearing news of the lads from +you," sorrowfully said the shipmaster. "There is the +chance, tiny though it be, that they were sighted by +some vessel bound to foreign parts, across the Western +Ocean."</p> + +<p>The uncle shook his head in a manner profoundly dejected. +There were duties which summoned him and he +choked down his own grief, turning from the sympathetic +mariner to minister to those in distress. Horse +litters were soon ready for the exhausted but heroic +women who had been kept alive by the devotion of the +noble British seamen in accordance with the traditions +of the merchant service. Those unable to walk farther +were placed in carts. Clothed and fed, the sailors were +in blithe spirits and talked of going to sea again as soon +as they could find a ship.</p> + +<p>In the crowd which met them on the outskirts of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +Charles Town settlement was Dorothy Stuart. She +scanned the straggling column and then ran from one +cart to another. It was impossible to convince her that +Jack Cockrell was not there. But when she heard from +Uncle Peter the news that Jack was missing but not +surely dead, her faith burned anew, triumphant over +fact and reason.</p> + +<p>"See how the great storm came to save him from +Blackbeard," she cried, her hand nestling in Uncle +Peter's arm. "And look how he came unscathed +through that bloody battle with the pirates in the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. Why, a cruise on a raft is merely +a frolic after all that."</p> + +<p>"I would not discourage your dear dreams, sweet +maid," was the gentle response. "And may they be +truer than my own forebodings."</p> + +<p>Charles Town was more than ever resentful when it +learned from these poor people how the pirate sailing-master, +Ned Rackham, had plotted to get rid of them +and how mournful had been their sufferings after the +shipwreck. The one boat left to them had been too +rotten to send along the coast and they had plunged into +a wilderness almost impassable.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Governor Johnson, stirred by this episode, +had received word that the province of Virginia was +both ready and anxious to join in an expedition against +Blackbeard. Governor Spottswood of Virginia would +be outfitting such craft as he could get together in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +James River while he awaited a reinforcement from +Charles Town.</p> + +<p>The best vessel available for immediate use was a +small brigantine, the <i>King George</i>. There was no lack +of eager seamen when Councilor Forbes and Colonel +Stuart proclaimed the muster on the tavern green. +Among those selected were several of Captain Jonathan +Wellsby's sailors who were primed to fight even though +there was not much flesh on their bones. He himself +was a forlorn mariner who had lost his good ship and +found no joy in life. With a grim smile of gratitude +he accepted the invitation to go as master of the <i>King +George</i>, with Colonel Stuart as a sea soldier to drill the +men and lead them in action.</p> + +<p>It was while they were slinging guns aboard the +brigantine that some of the men happened to notice a +small boat coming into the harbor under a rag of sail. +At first it was taken for a fishing craft and there was +no comment until it was quite close. Then they saw +that it was a ship's jolly-boat much the worse for wear, +with only two occupants. These were half-naked lads, +burned black to the waist, with a queer kind of canvas +head-gear as a protection against the sun.</p> + +<p>The boat was steered to pass under the stern of the +<i>King George</i> and the crew was unable to fathom if these +were pirates or victims of another shipwreck. Captain +Wellsby solved it by shouting:</p> + +<p>"Both your guesses are right! One is the pirate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +younker that served our cause in the <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +and t'other is Master Jack Cockrell!"</p> + +<p>One of the Charles Town volunteers heard only the +word <i>pirate</i> and growled, with an oath:</p> + +<p>"One o' Blackbeard's spawn? We'll make precious +short work of him. Hand me a musket and I will save +trouble for the hangman."</p> + +<p>"Here, stop that," said Captain Wellsby, beckoning +his own men. "You old <i>Adventure</i> hands know better. +Quell these lubbers. If there's to be hostile feeling +ashore I shall take this lad aboard under my own protection."</p> + +<p>During this argument the sea-worn pilgrims in the +jolly-boat had recognized the shipmaster and were joyfully +yelling at him. In response to his gesture, they +pulled down the sail and rowed to the gangway of the +brigantine. There was no need to fear the wrath of the +Charles Town seamen, because the <i>Adventure</i> hands +stood by as a guard while they explained how this young +Joe Hawkridge had valiantly helped to turn the tide of +battle against the prize crew of pirates. And there was +such a rousing welcome for Master Cockrell that all else +was forgotten. His old shipmates fairly mobbed him.</p> + +<p>"I will fire a gun and hoist all the bunting to signal +the town," cried the skipper, his face shining. "And +presently I'll send you to the wharf in my own boat, but +first tell me, boys, who took you off the little raft and +whence come you in this ship's boat?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Blackbeard rescued us. And we borrowed the boat +from him," demurely answered Jack, watching the effect +of this bombshell of a sensation.</p> + +<p>"<i>Blackbeard!</i>" echoed the bedazed shipmaster and +the others chimed it like a chorus.</p> + +<p>"Aye, old Buckets o' Blood hisself," grinned Joe +Hawkridge. "We had him tamed proper when we +parted company. First we chased him through a swamp +till his tongue hung out and left him mired to the whiskers. +Then for another lark we scared him in his +own ship so he begged us on his knees to forbear. +We learned Cap'n Ed'ard Teach his manners, eh, +Jack?"</p> + +<p>This was too much for the audience which stood +agape. A dozen voices at once implored enlightenment. +With a lordly air for a youth whose costume was mostly +one leg of his breeches, Master Cockrell reproved them +to wit:</p> + +<p>"Captain Stede Bonnet was more courteous to our +distress when we sailed with him. He gave us a thumping +big breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Right-o," declared Joe. "'Tis our custom to spin +strange yarns for clothes and vittles in payment."</p> + +<p>The men scampered to the galley and pantry but refused +to let Captain Wellsby carry these rare entertainers +into the cabin. Graciously they sketched the +chief events, omitting all mention of the treasure chest, +and Jack explained in conclusion:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And so I was stricken homesick, like an illness, and +Joe had his fill of pirates, too. The wind was wrong to +rejoin Captain Bonnet in the Inlet harbor after we +shipped as ghosts in the jolly-boat, and we had a mariner's +chart of the Carolina coast and——"</p> + +<p>"But what did you do for subsistence?" broke in +Captain Wellsby.</p> + +<p>"Food and water?" answered Joe. "Oh, we landed +when the thirst plagued us too bad. And there was +rain to fill a bight of the sail and a pannikin to save it +in."</p> + +<p>"And we lived on oysters mostly," said Jack, "and +Joe killed a fat opossum with a club, and we caught +some fish in a net which I knotted from a ball of marline +that was in the boat. And we foraged for pawpaws +and persimmons."</p> + +<p>"And whenever the breeze was fair we put to sea +again," said Joe, "and it was a long and weary voyage, +though not so many leagues on the chart."</p> + +<p>The captain's boat was ready and they tumbled in, +two wayfarers of the sea who were as lean and sun-dried +as the buccaneers of old Trimble Rogers' fond memories. +Hardships had seasoned and weathered them like good +ash staves. On the wharf was Uncle Peter Forbes and +Governor Johnson and a concourse of townspeople +drawn by the joyous signals flown from the brigantine. +Jack looked in vain for Dorothy Stuart and was thankful +that her welcome was deferred. Shears and a razor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +and Christian raiment would make him look less like a +savage from the coast of Barbary.</p> + +<p>Uncle Peter wasted a vast deal of pity, thinking the +castaways too weak and wasted to walk. Jack strode +along with him, the crowd at their heels, and soon had +the plump Councilor puffing for breath. They insisted +on taking Joe Hawkridge with them although he was +for seeking lodgings at the tavern. He was one of the +household, declared Mr. Forbes, while Jack warned him +to beware of impertinence lest he be sentenced to chop +wood for the kitchen fire.</p> + +<p>The neighbors and friends, as curious as they were +joyful, were barred from the house while the lads talked +and Uncle Peter carefully made notes of it all. It was +too much for him to realize that Jack was sitting there +lusty and laughing and with the dutifully respectful +manner as of yore, in spite of the man's part he had +played to the hilt. Of all the exploits, that which most +fascinated Mr. Peter Forbes was the chase after Blackbeard's +sea-chest weighty with treasure and the discovery +of the knoll in the Cherokee swamp where he might +have buried other booty. Here was a picaresque +romance which allured the methodical barrister and +Councilor and he was as boyishly excited as his nephew. +He examined the chart which Jack had copied from his +rude sketch made on a piece of bark and this raised a +question which he was quick to ask:</p> + +<p>"What of Bill Saxby and this old bloodhound of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +Trimble Rogers? As soon as Stede Bonnet could get +the <i>Revenge</i> to sea, I have no doubt he sailed to Cape +Fear River to get these pirate comrades of yours and +the seamen he left to find them. Once aboard, they +would urge Bonnet to return to Cherokee Inlet and let +them go hunt the treasure."</p> + +<p>"That may be, but we can trust them to deal fair by +us," replied Jack.</p> + +<p>"Possibly," was the skeptical comment. Mr. Forbes +was not too ready to believe in honest pirates.</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure Cap'n Bonnet had a mind to bother +with this treasure hunting," suggested Joe Hawkridge. +"Leastwise, he may ha' put it off to an easier day. He +has friends that keep him well informed, such as the +Governor of North Carolina at Bath Town. And all +this flurry against piratin', here and in Virginia, 'ud be +apt to make Cap'n Bonnet wary of bein' trapped on the +coast."</p> + +<p>"Joe is full of wisdom, as usual," said Master Cockrell. +"And if Blackbeard has cruised to the Spanish +Main, as we suspect, the treasure may lie undisturbed +for a while."</p> + +<p>"Concerning Blackbeard, the evidence then in hand +warranted your conclusions," was Uncle Peter's judicial +comment, "but I have received later information. The +rumor is, and well-founded, that he turned his ship and +made for the Pamlico River with the intention of obtaining +pardon from the false and greedy Governor Eden.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +This would baffle our plans against him, or so he would +assume. And it would enable him to remain within +convenient distance of his treasure."</p> + +<p>"Would this Province and Virginia respect such a +pardon as that?" queried Jack.</p> + +<p>"Not in the case of Blackbeard," snapped the Councilor, +"because we know it would be violated as soon as +this treacherous villain could safely return to his piracies."</p> + +<p>"Then Joe and I will enlist in the <i>King George</i> +brigantine," cried Jack. "Captain Wellsby tells me +she will sail for Virginia inside the week."</p> + +<p>Uncle Peter was about to make violent protest but +he checked himself and his emotions were torn betwixt +pride and yearning affection. He could not bear to let +his nephew go so soon to new perils, but what right had +he to try to shield him when the public duty called? It +was idle to pretend that Jack was too young and tender +to embark on such service as this. He was fitter for it +than some of the other volunteers. And so the unhappy +Uncle Peter walked the floor with his cheeks puffed out +and his hands clasped behind him and said, with a tremulous +sigh:</p> + +<p>"I swore to treat you no more as a child, Jack. 'Tis +right and natural for you to desire to go in the <i>King +George</i> as a fighting man tried and true. As for Joe +Hawkridge, I have acquainted the Governor with +his merits and his pardon is assured."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thankee, sir," returned the reformed young pirate. +"A respectable life is what I crave, and the parson for +company."</p> + +<p>"It sounds almost pleasant to me, including the parson," +admitted Jack, "as soon as we shall have settled +this matter with Blackbeard."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>NED RACKHAM'S PLANS GO MUCH AMISS</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>T</big>HE armed brigantine had been out several days +on the voyage to Virginia when a vessel was +sighted hull-down. Captain Wellsby and +Colonel Stuart decided to edge over and take a look at +the stranger although they were not anxious to engage +an enemy of heavier metal. If, however, this should +happen to be Blackbeard in the <i>Revenge</i> they were in +no mood to avoid him, despite the odds. After an hour +of sailing in a strong breeze, it was seen that this other +vessel was a small merchantman which shifted her course +as though to shake off pursuit.</div> + +<p>"They take us for a pirate," chuckled Captain +Wellsby. "I have no wish to scare 'em, poor souls. +They will feel easy as soon as we bring the wind abeam."</p> + +<p>He was about to give the order when Joe Hawkridge, +gunner's mate, called to Jack Cockrell standing his +watch at the helm:</p> + +<p>"Remember the snow I told ye of? Yonder is the +same rig and tonnage, alike it as peas in a pod."</p> + +<p>Jack spoke to the shipmaster who summoned Joe to +the quarter-deck. The boy was confident that this was +the New England coasting vessel in which Ned Rack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>ham +and his pirates had appeared off Cherokee Inlet +and had carried the marooned seamen from the sandy +cay.</p> + +<p>"A brown patch in the big main-topsail, and the bowsprit +steeved more'n ordinary," said Joe. "Tit for tat, +Cap'n Wellsby. Your men can have the fun of jamming +them in the fo'castle. And you won't find me or +Jack helpin' these picaroons to break out."</p> + +<p>"No fear of that," sternly spoke the shipmaster. +"They shall make their exit with a taut rope and a long +drop when I deliver them in Virginia."</p> + +<p>It was to be gathered that the bold Ned Rackham had +failed in his desperate enterprise of capturing a larger +ship and that he was probably cruising up the coast in +hopes of rejoining Blackbeard. The snow had too few +guns to cope with the <i>King George</i> brigantine which +could throw a battering broadside. As soon as identification +was certain, Captain Wellsby hauled to windward +to hold the weather gauge and Colonel Stuart +called the men to quarters. The <i>Plymouth Adventure</i> +hands were disappointed that they would be unable to +pay their own grudge. They had no doubt that Ned +Rackham would strike his colors without a battle.</p> + +<p>The <i>King George</i> ran close enough for Captain +Wellsby to shout through the trumpet:</p> + +<p>"The snow ahoy! Send your men aboard or I'll sink +you. No tricks, Rackham. Lively, now."</p> + +<p>They saw the men running to cut the boat lashings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +and struggle to launch the boats from the deck. Ned +Rackham, handsome and debonair, stared coolly at the +brigantine but gave no sign that he had heard the ultimatum. +With a shrug he walked across the poop, +glanced up at the British ensign which flew from his +main truck, and made no motion to pull it down.</p> + +<p>"Blow your matches, boys," roared Colonel Stuart +from his station in the waist of the <i>King George</i>. "Five +minutes' grace, no more."</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby said to wait a little. The pirates +were endeavoring to quit the snow. And presently +Rackham appeared to change his own purpose. No +longer ignoring the <i>King George</i>, he doffed his hat in a +graceful flourish and bowed with a mocking obeisance. +Then he strolled to the cabin hatch and went below, +presumably to get a change of clothing or something +of the sort. But he failed to reappear and his men +were in a frenzy of haste, with one boat already in the +water.</p> + +<p>So incensed was Colonel Stuart by the insolent refusal +of Ned Rackham to strike his colors in token of +surrender that he gave orders to fire at the mainmast +and try to bring it down. An instant before the starboard +battery thundered, the snow seemed to fly upwards +in a tremendous explosion. The masts were flung +out of her and the hull opened like a shattered basket. +So violent was the shock that men were thrown to the +deck of the <i>King George</i> and she quivered as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +her bows had rammed a reef. Black smoke spouted +as from a crater and debris rained down on a boiling +sea.</p> + +<p>A few survivors, scorched or half-stunned, were clinging +to bits of wreckage and wailing for succor. Where +the snow had floated was a discolored eddy, broken timbers, +a lather of dirty foam. Captain Jonathan Wellsby +picked himself up, rubbed a bump on his head, and +gazed wildly at the tragic scene. Collecting his wits, +he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"That 'ud be like Ned Rackham, to blow up the ship +sooner than be taken and hanged. More than likely he +had the train all laid to the powder barrels."</p> + +<p>"He saved us a lot of trouble," said Colonel Stuart +as he climbed to the poop. "A fellow of iron will and +courage, this Rackham, by all accounts. I have conceived +a respect for him."</p> + +<p>"I forgive him his sins," replied the skipper. "Now, +lads, boats away, and fish up those dying wretches."</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge emitted a jubilant whoop and dived +over the rail without waiting for a boat. He had caught +a glimpse of a feeble swimmer whose square, solid features +and bushy brows were familiar. It was Peter +Tobey, the carpenter's mate, who had befriended him on +the cay and who had set adrift that miraculous cask of +food and water. A few strokes and Joe was at his side, +clutching him by the neck-band and towing him toward +the <i>King George</i> like a faithful retriever. Ropes were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +flung to them and Joe saw his good friend safely aboard +before he went up the side.</p> + +<p>The carpenter's mate was both burned and bruised +but his hurts were not grievous and he was able to drag +himself aft with Joe as a crutch.</p> + +<p>"My own particular prize, sir, by your gracious +leave," said Joe Hawkridge, addressing Captain +Wellsby. "This is Mr. Peter Tobey, a poor, faint-hearted +pirate like me. May I have him to keep, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"Bless me, but there will be no pirates left to hang," +was the quizzical reply. "Master Cockrell has adopted +you, and now I am ordered to be kind to Bill Saxby and +Trimble Rogers if I meet up with 'em."</p> + +<p>"That's the whole list, sir. Ask Jack Cockrell. You +can string the rest of the bloody pirates to the yardarm, +for all we care. Do I get exemption for this Peter +Tobey?"</p> + +<p>"What is your verdict, Colonel Stuart?" asked the +captain.</p> + +<p>"I heard the tale from Hawkridge," answered the +brusque but generous soldier. "The carpenter's mate +has won my allegiance. What say you in your own behalf, +Peter Tobey?"</p> + +<p>The blistered, singed survivor touched a hand to his +forehead and respectfully responded:</p> + +<p>"A carpenter by trade and nature, and allus was. I +never see one happy day a-piratin' nor did I shed the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +blood of any human creatur'. With a bench and +tools, you will find me a proper handy man in Charles +Town."</p> + +<p>"That clinches it," cried Colonel Stuart. "I should +call it a crime to hang an artisan like Peter Tobey. +Your prize is awarded you, Hawkridge. See that he is +well cared for."</p> + +<p>"The first booty that ever was handed me from a +sinkin' ship," said Joe. "Come along, Master Tobey, +and roll into my bunk."</p> + +<p>"Verily I was castin' bread upon the waters when I +gave that cask to the wind and tide," devoutly murmured +the carpenter's mate as he limped below with his +new owner.</p> + +<p>No more than a dozen other pirates were rescued alive +and several of these expired soon after they were lifted +aboard the brigantine. This was the only sensational +incident of the coastwise voyage to the James River. +Comfortably quartered, with no more work than was +wholesome, Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge thought +it a holiday excursion after their previous adventures at +sea.</p> + +<p>In the roadstead of the James were two men-of-war, +small frigates flying the broad pennant of the Royal +Navy. A conference was held in the cabin of the senior +officer, to which Captain Wellsby and Colonel Stuart +were invited. The latest advices made it seem certain +that Blackbeard still lurked off the coast of the Caro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>linas. +Planters had reported seeing his ship in Pamlico +Sound and it was also learned that he had been in communication +with the disloyal Governor Eden at Bath +Town. A letter had been intercepted, in handwriting +of the Governor's secretary, and addressed to Captain +Teach, which included these words:</p> + +<p>"<i>I have sent you four of your men. They are all I +can meet with about town. Be upon your guard.</i>"</p> + +<p>This was readily construed to mean that Blackbeard +was in haste to recall such of his crew as had strayed +ashore. At the council of war in the frigate's cabin, a +proclamation was read. It offered a handsome reward +for the capture of Captain Edward Teach, dead or alive, +and lesser rewards for other pirates.</p> + +<p>It was the decision that the two frigates were unhandy +for cruising inshore. Therefore officers and men would +be chosen from them to fill the complements of two +sloops, light and active craft which would be unhampered +by batteries of cannon. They would be employed +for boarding Blackbeard's ship while the Charles Town +brigantine <i>King George</i> should convoy them and engage +in the attack if the depth of water should permit. +The naval officer selected to command the sloops was +Lieutenant Maynard who went off to the <i>King George</i> +to inspect her and make a call of courtesy.</p> + +<p>He was especially cordial to Master Cockrell and +Gunner's Mate Joe Hawkridge, laying aside the stiff +dignity of naval rank. To his persuasive argument that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +they enter the royal service with promise of quick promotion, +they turned a deaf ear although they were wonderfully +taken with him. He was a gentle, soft-spoken +young man with a boyish smile who blushed when +pressed to talk of his own exploits against the Spanish, +the Dutch, and the French in Britannia's wooden walls. +His own questions were mostly about Blackbeard's +fighting quality. Would he make a stand against disciplined +tars who were accustomed to close in, hammer-and-tongs? +Joe Hawkridge answered to this:</p> + +<p>"I ne'er saw him in action against a king's ship, and +all his wild nonsense is apt to delude ye into thinkin' him +a drunken play-actor. But you will never take him +alive, so long as those bandy legs have strength to prop +him up."</p> + +<p>"I look forward to meeting him with a deal of pleasure. +It may be my good fortune to measure swords +with him," observed Lieutenant Maynard.</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge was puzzled by this gentle fire-eater +with the complexion of a girl. Nothing could have been +more unlike the ramping, roaring pirates of Blackbeard's +dirty crew who tried to terrify by their very appearance. +After the lieutenant had returned to his +frigate, Jack Cockrell remarked:</p> + +<p>"A most misleading man, Joe. You cannot picture +him seeking the bubble reputation at the cannon's +mouth, as Will Shakespeare saith."</p> + +<p>"Blackbeard will bite him in two," replied Joe. "He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +is too pretty to be risked in such a slaughter pen. I +own up to feelin' squeamish on my own account, hardy +pirate though I be."</p> + +<p>"This Lieutenant Maynard is welcome to measure +swords with Blackbeard," said Jack, "and I shall not +quarrel with him for the honor. Pick me a pirate with +a wooden leg, Joe, or one that still shakes with Spanish +fever."</p> + +<p>"My only chance of getting out with a whole skin +is to lug a sack of flour under one arm and play the ghost +o' Jesse Strawn."</p> + +<p>Expeditiously the brigantine and the two sloops sailed +out of the James River to head for the North Carolina +coast and first rake the nooks and bays of Pamlico +Sound. There was no intention of offering Blackbeard +fair odds in battle. With men and vessels enough it was +resolved to exterminate him, like ridding a house of rats +or other vermin. If he had gone out to sea, then the +pursuers would wait and watch for his return to his +favorite haunts in these waters. There was every reason +to believe, however, that he was concealed inshore, within +easy distance of his friend Governor Eden.</p> + +<p>Failing to find him in Pamlico Sound, it was debated +whether to cruise farther to the southward. Now Master +Jack Cockrell and his chum had said nothing to the +officers concerning the treasure in the Cherokee swamp. +They felt bound in honor not to reveal it without the +consent of Bill Saxby and old Trimble Rogers who were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +partners in the enterprise. Moreover, Lieutenant Maynard +and the Virginia officers would feel bound to turn +the treasure over to the crown or its representatives. +Governor Eden of North Carolina would undoubtedly +claim it as found within his territory and this meant that +he would steal most of it for himself.</p> + +<p>It thrilled the lads when Colonel Stuart told them +that this Provincial squadron would cruise as far as +Cherokee Inlet before working to the northward again. +Information had led the officers to believe that Blackbeard +had lost many men by desertion while his ship lay +at Bath Town and near by. They had been roving about +the plantations and making a nuisance of themselves +and seemed ready to quit their red-handed despot of a +master. In this event he might have sought his old +hiding-place at the Inlet sooner than risk a clash with +the force which had been sent after him and of which +he had been warned by Governor Eden.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Maynard scouted in advance with the two +sloops because there was small danger of their getting +aground and they could be moved along with oars if the +wind failed. The brigantine kept further offshore but +within signaling distance. She was running within sight +of the scattering barrier of low islands when Captain +Wellsby summoned Joe Hawkridge and informed +him:</p> + +<p>"You will act as pilot, Joe, once we fetch sounding +on the Twelve Fathom Bank. The chart is faulty, as ye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +know, and me and my mates are in strange waters with +a'mighty little elbow-room. You know the marks, I +take it."</p> + +<p>"Aye, sir, I do that," answered Joe. "Then I stays +aboard ship and miss the chance to go pokin' about with +a cutlass? I'm all screwed up to terrible deeds, Cap'n +Wellsby, after a spell o' mortal fear. And who takes +care of Master Cockrell if he goes in a boat?"</p> + +<p>"His own lusty right arm, Joe. Avast with your +melancholy. We must first catch this Blackbeard."</p> + +<p>Presently Joe Hawkridge footed it up the main +shrouds to scan the sea ahead and try to get a glimpse +of that sandy bit of exposed shoal on which he had been +marooned. This would enable him to find the entrance +to the outer channel and so con the brigantine in from +seaward. While he shaded his eyes with his hand +against the glare of the morning sun, one of the sloops +hoisted a string of bright signal flags and fired two guns. +The other sloop was seen to lower her topsail and wait +for the <i>King George</i> to come up.</p> + +<p>Joe Hawkridge climbed higher and found a perch +where he could discern the spars of a vessel etched almost +as fine as threads against the azure horizon. He +was almost certain that the ship he saw was very close +to that tiny cay of which he had such unhappy knowledge. +Soon he was able to perceive that the vessel's sails +were furled. This was an odd place for an anchorage. +His conjecture was confirmed when the <i>King George</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +passed close to the nearest sloop and Lieutenant Maynard +shouted:</p> + +<p>"Stranded hard and fast! And she is deucedly like +Blackbeard's brig."</p> + +<p>Scampering to the deck, Joe Hawkridge mustered +his gun's crew as Jack Cockrell came running up to say:</p> + +<p>"Trapped on the very islet where he cast you and +the other pirates! His chickens have come home to +roost."</p> + +<p>"Call me no pirate or I'll stretch ye with a handspike," +grinned Joe. "'Tis a plaguey poor word in +this company. Aye, Cap'n Ed'ard Teach has a taste +of his own medicine and he will get a worse dose this day +than ever he served me."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE GREAT FIGHT OF CAPTAIN TEACH</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>Y</big>ES, there was Blackbeard's ship hard in the sand +which had gripped her keel while she was steering +to enter the Cherokee Inlet. There was no +pearly vapor of swamp mist out here to shroud her from +attack. The air was clear and bright, with a robust +breeze which stirred a flashing surf on the shoals. Under +lower sails, the two sloops watchfully crept nearer +until their crews could examine the stranded brig and +read the story of her plight. She stood on a slant with +the decks sloped toward the enemy. This made it impossible +to use her guns with any great effect.</div> + +<p>Captain Wellsby tacked ship and kept the <i>King +George</i> well away from the cay, as Joe Hawkridge advised. +With an ebbing tide, it was unsafe to venture +into shallower water in order to pound Blackbeard's +vessel with broadsides. Lieutenant Maynard came +aboard in a small boat and was quite the dandy with his +brocaded coat and ruffles and velvet small-clothes. One +might have thought he had engaged to dance the minuet. +Colonel Stuart met him in a spick-and-span uniform of +His Majesty's Foot, cross-belts pipe-clayed white as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +snow, boots polished until they shone. Such gentlemen +were punctilious in war two hundred years ago.</p> + +<p>"Your solid shot will not pound him much at this +range, my good sir," said the lieutenant. "With his +hull so badly listed toward us, you can no more than +splinter the decks while his men take shelter below."</p> + +<p>"I grant you that," regretfully replied the soldier. +"And case-shot will not scatter to do him much harm. +Shall I blaze away and demoralize the rascals whilst you +make ready your boats?"</p> + +<p>"Toss a few rounds into the varlets, Colonel Stuart. +It may keep them from massing on deck. One boat +from your ship, if it please you, with twenty picked men. +I shall take twenty men from each sloop as boarders."</p> + +<p>"Sixty in all?" queried the colonel. "Why not take +a hundred?"</p> + +<p>"They would be tumbling over one another,—too +much confusion. This is not a large vessel yonder. We +must have room on deck to swing and cut."</p> + +<p>"I will have my men away in ten minutes, Lieutenant +Maynard," crisply replied the blonde, raw-boned Scotsman +with a finger at his hat-brim in courteous salute. +He proceeded to call the men by name, strapping, sober +fellows who had followed the sea amid the frequent +perils of the merchant service. Jack Cockrell was the +only landsman and he felt greatly honored that he +should be included. Gone was his unmanly trepidation. +Was he more worthy to live than these humble seamen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +who fought to make the ocean safer for other voyagers, +who were true kinsmen of the Elizabethan heroes of +blue water? He tarried a moment to wring Joe Hawkridge's +hand in farewell and to tell him:</p> + +<p>"If I have ill luck in this adventure, old comrade,—do +you mind presenting my best compliments, and—and +a fond farewell to Mistress Dorothy Stuart?"</p> + +<p>"Strike me, Jack, stow that or you'll have me blubberin'," +said Joe. "Bring me a lock of Cap'n Teach's +whiskers as a token for my lass in Fayal if ever I clap +eyes on her again. And you'd best take this heavy cutlass +which I whetted a-purpose for ye. 'Twill split a +pirate like slicin' an apple."</p> + +<p>With this useful gift in his hand, Master Cockrell +swung himself into the boat where Colonel Stuart stood +in the stern-sheets. Perhaps he, too, was dwelling on a +fair maid named Dorothy who might be left fatherless +before the sun climbed an hour higher. The sloops were +moving nearer the cay under sail and oar, trailing their +crowded boats behind them. Blackbeard had hauled +two or three of his guns into such positions that he could +open fire but the sloops crawled doggedly into the shoal +water and so screened their boats until these were ready +to cast off for the final dash.</p> + +<p>It was a rare sea picture, the stranded brig with canvas +loose on the yards and ropes streaming, her listed +decks a-swarm with pirates in outlandish, vari-colored +garb, the surf playing about her in a bright dazzle and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +the gulls screaming overhead. The broad, squat figure +of Blackbeard himself was never more conspicuous. He +no longer strutted the quarter-deck but was all over the +ship, menacing his men with his pistols, shifting them in +groups for defense, shouldering bags of munitions, or +heaping up the grenades and stink-pots to be lighted +and thrown into the attacking boats.</p> + +<p>It was his humor to adorn himself more elaborately +than usual. Under his broad hat with the great feather +in it he had stuck lengths of tow matches which were all +sputtering and burning so that he ran to and fro in a +cloud of sparks and smoke like that Evil One whom he +professed to admire. He realized, no doubt, that this +was likely to be his last stand. The inferno which he +was so fond of counterfeiting, fairly yawned at his feet.</p> + +<p>And now the sloops let go their anchors while from +astern of them appeared the three boats of the assailants. +They steered wide of each other to seek different parts +of the pirate brig and so divide Blackbeard's force. The +boats of Colonel Stuart and Lieutenant Maynard were +racing for the honor of first place alongside. Blackbeard +trained two guns on them, filled with grape and +chain-shot, and one boat was shattered but it swam long +enough for the cheering men to pull it to the brig and +toss their grapples to the rail which was inclined quite +close to the water. They were in the surf which broke +against the ship, but this was a mere trifle.</p> + +<p>Most of them went up the side like cats, leaping for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +the chains and dead-eyes, slashing at the nettings, swinging +by a rope's end, or digging their toes in a crack of a +gun-port. Forward they were pouring over the bowsprit, +vaulting like acrobats from the anchor stocks, or +swarming up the stays. It seemed beyond belief that +they could gain footing on the decks with Blackbeard's +demons stabbing and hacking and shooting at them, but +in such manner as this was many a great sea fight won +in the brave days of old.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Maynard gained his lodgment in the bows +amid a swirl of pirates who tried to pen him in front of +the forecastle house. But his tars of the Royal Navy +were accustomed to close quarters and they straightway +made room for themselves. Chest to chest and hand to +hand they hewed their way toward the waist of the ship +where Colonel Stuart raged like the braw, bonny Highlander +that he was. Almost at the same time, the third +boat had made fast under the jutting stern gallery and +its twenty men were piling in through the cabin windows +like so many human projectiles.</p> + +<p>In the <i>King George</i> brigantine, Captain Jonathan +Wellsby fidgeted and gnawed his lip, with a telescope at +his eye, while he watched the conflict in which he could +scarce distinguish friend from foe. He could see Blackbeard +charge aft to rally his men and then whirl back to +lunge into the mêlée where towered Colonel Stuart's tall +figure. The powder smoke from pistols and muskets +drifted in a thin blue haze. Joe Hawkridge was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +fairly shaking with nervousness as he said to the skipper:</p> + +<p>"There'll be no clearing the decks 'less they down +that monster of a Cap'n Teach. And he has more lives +than a cat. See you my dear crony, Master Jack?"</p> + +<p>"No, I cannot make him out in that mad turmoil," +replied Captain Wellsby. "Nip and tuck, I call it, +Joe."</p> + +<p>This was the opinion forced upon Lieutenant Maynard +as he saw the engagement resolve itself into a series +of bloody whirlpools, his seamen and the pirates intermingled. +He won his way past the forecastle into the +wider spaces of the deck, with only a few of his twenty +tars on their feet. Colonel Stuart was hard pressed and +the boarders who had come over the stern had as much as +they could do to hold their own. Thus far the issue was +indecisive.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell had kept close to the colonel, and felt +amazement that he was still alive. His cheek was laid +open, a bullet had torn his thigh, and a powder burn +streaked his neck, but he felt these hurts not at all. It +was a nightmare from which there seemed no escape. +He saw Blackbeard rush at him with a raucous shout of:</p> + +<p>"The scurvy young cockerel! He will ne'er crow +again."</p> + +<p>Colonel Stuart sprang between them, blades clashed, +and they were swept apart in another wave of jostling +combat. A moment later the colonel slipped and fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +as a coal-black negro chopped at him with a broken cutlass. +Jack Cockrell flew at him and they wrestled until +a hip-lock threw the negro to the deck, where the colonel +made him one pirate less.</p> + +<p>Formidable as these outlaws were, they lacked the +stern cohesion which had been drilled into the sailors of +the Royal Navy and likewise learned in the hard school +of the merchant service. Very slowly the odds were +shifting against Blackbeard's crew. It was unmistakable +when Lieutenant Maynard cut his way through to +join Colonel Stuart, while the third group of boarders +was advancing little by little from the after quarter. +This meant that the force was gradually uniting in spite +of the furious efforts to scatter it.</p> + +<p>And now there came an episode which lives in history +two centuries after that scene of carnage on the decks of +the stranded brig. It has preserved the name of a +humble lieutenant of the Royal Navy and saved it from +the oblivion which is the common lot of most brave men +who do and dare when duty beckons.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard was bleeding from a dozen wounds and +yet his activity was unabated. He was like a grizzly +bear at bay. His men began to believe that his league +with Satan, of which he obscenely boasted, had made him +invulnerable. He was all that he had proclaimed himself +to be, the wickedest and most fearsome pirate of the +Western Ocean. And all the while, the slender, boyish +Lieutenant Maynard, sailor and gentleman, had one aim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +in mind, and that was to slay Captain Edward Teach +with his own hand. Nor was he at all content until he +had cleared a path to where the hairy pirate was playing +havoc with his broadsword.</p> + +<p>With a loud laugh in mockery, Blackbeard snatched a +loaded pistol from one of his men and fired at this foppish +young officer who presumed to single him out. The +ball chipped Maynard's ear and he dodged the pistol +which was hurled at his head. It was curious to note a +lull in the general engagement, a little interval of suspense +while men regained their breath or tried to staunch +their wounds. They were unconsciously awaiting the +verdict of this duel between their leaders. Jack Cockrell, +for instance, finding himself alone by some chance, +leaned against a stanchion and heard his own blood drip—drip—on +the deck.</p> + +<p>It was a fleeting respite. Blackbeard swung his +sword, with the might of those wide shoulders behind it. +The lieutenant stepped aside like lightning and the +bright weapon whistled past his arm. Then they went +at each other like blacksmiths, sparks flying as steel bit +steel. Dexterity and a cool wit were a match for the +pirate's untamable strength. Gory, snarling, Blackbeard +shortened his stroke to use the point. The lieutenant +dropped to one knee, thrust upward, and found a +vital spot.</p> + +<p>Blackbeard stood staring at him with wonder in his +eyes. Then those thick, bowed legs gave way and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +toppled like a tree uprooted. He passed out quietly +enough, with no more cursing, and in this last moment +of sensibility his thoughts appeared to wander far to his +youth as a brisk merchant seaman out of Bristol port, +for he was heard to mutter, with a long sigh:</p> + +<p>"A pretty babe as ever was, Mollie, and the mortal +image of its mother."</p> + +<p>To his waist the sable beard covered him like a pall +and one corded arm was flung across his breast and it +showed the design of the skull and cross-bones pricked +in India ink. Then as if the dead leader had issued the +command, the surviving pirates began to fling down +their weapons and loudly cry for quarter. They need +not have felt ashamed of the resistance they had made +up to this time, but now the delirium of combat had +slackened and Blackbeard was no more. One or two of +his officers were alive and they knew that the game was +lost. Reinforcements could be sent from the sloops and +the brigantine as soon as they were signaled for. And +there was no flight from a stranded ship. Blackbeard +had been able to infuse them with his own madness. +Better chance the gallows than no quarter.</p> + +<p>Here and there a few of the most desperate dogs of +the Spanish Main who had followed Blackbeard's fortunes +a long time, refused to surrender but they were +either shot down or overpowered. Captain Wellsby +was sending off two boats from the <i>King George</i> with +his surgeon, and the sloops were kedging in closer to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +cay with the rising tide. Half the seamen were beyond +aid and of the pirates no more than twenty were alive. +Jack Cockrell was thankful to have come off so lightly, +and he consoled himself with the notion that a scar across +his cheek would be a manly memento. Colonel Stuart +had been several times wounded but 'tis hard killing a +Highlander.</p> + +<p>It was Lieutenant Maynard's duty to offer public +proof that he had slain none other than the infamous +Blackbeard, wherefore he made no protest when his armorer +hacked off the head of the dead pirate. There +was no feeling of chivalry due a fallen foe, valiant +though his end had been. This horrid trophy was tied +at the end of a sloop's bowsprit, to be displayed for the +gratification of all honest sailormen who might behold it +in port. It was not a gentle age on blue water and +Captain Edward Teach had been the death of many +helpless people during his wicked career.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Maynard announced that he would take +the two sloops into Bath Town, before proceeding to +Virginia, as they were overcrowded vessels and the survivors +of the boarding party needed proper care ashore. +It would also afford the unscrupulous Governor Eden +of North Carolina an opportunity to see his friend, Captain +Teach, as a pirate who would divide no more plundered +merchandise with him.</p> + +<p>The brigantine <i>King George</i> was ready to escort them +into Pamlico Sound, after which she would sail for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +Charles Town. Before the departure from the entrance +of Cherokee Inlet, the stranded vessel was set afire and +blazed grandly as the funeral pyre of Blackbeard's stout +lads who would go no more a-roving.</p> + +<p>Never was a nurse more devoted than Joe Hawkridge +when his comrade was mercifully restored to him. Jack +was woefully pale and weak but in blithe spirits and +thankful to have seen the last of Blackbeard.</p> + +<p>"Hulled in the leg and a damaged figger-head," said +Joe, as he sat on the edge of the hero's bunk. "Triflin', +I call it, when I expected to see you come aboard feet +first wrapped in a bit o' canvas."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to talk about it, Joe. Let's find something +pleasant. Ho for Charles Town, and the green +trees and a bench in the shade."</p> + +<p>"And a tidy little vessel after a while, you and me and +the Councilor a-pleasurin' up the coast with men and +gear to fish up the treasure chest."</p> + +<p>"And you believe that Blackbeard never got back to +the Inlet to save the treasure for himself?" asked Jack.</p> + +<p>"Not the way his ship was headed when she struck the +shoal."</p> + +<p>The brigantine was well on her way to Charles Town +when Captain Wellsby found that Master Cockrell +could be carried into the comfortable main cabin to rest +on a cushioned settle for an hour or two at a time. It +was during one of these visits, when Joe Hawkridge was +present, that the skipper remembered to say:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here is a bit of memorandum which may entertain +you lads. Lieutenant Maynard had Blackbeard's quarters +searched before the brig was burned. Some valuable +stuff was found, but nothing what you'd call a +pirate's treasure."</p> + +<p>The lads looked at each other but kept their own +counsel and Captain Wellsby went on to explain:</p> + +<p>"There was a private log, Blackbeard's own journal, +with a few entries in it, and most of the leaves torn out. +I made a copy of what could be read, for the late Captain +Teach was a better pirate than scrivener. Here, +Jack, you are the scholar."</p> + +<p>Jack read aloud this extract, which was about what +might have been expected:</p> + +<p>"<i>Such a day! Rum all out,—our company somewhat +sober. A confusion amongst us,—rogues a-plotting—great +talk of separation. So I looked sharp for a +prize. Took one, with a great deal of liquor on board, +so kept the company hot, very hot. Then all things +went well again.</i>"</p> + +<p>"That sounds familiar enough to me," was Joe +Hawkridge's comment. "And the rest of his writing +will be much like it."</p> + +<p>"Not so fast," exclaimed Captain Wellsby. "Scan +the next page, Jack. 'Twill fetch you up all standing. +Not that it puts gold in our pockets, for we know not +where to search, but I swear it will make your eyes +sparkle and your mouth water."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> + +<p>Trying to hide his excitement, Jack saw a kind of +rough inventory, and it ran like this:</p> + +<div class="blockquot">"Where I Hid Itt This Cruse:<br /> + +<div class='hang1'>1 Bag 54 Silver Barrs. 1 Bag 79 Barrs & +Peaces of Silver.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>1 Bag Coyned Gold. 1 Bag Dust Gold. 2 Bags +Gold Barrs.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>1 Bag Silver Rings & Sundry Precious Stones. +3 Bags Unpolyshed Stones.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>1 Silver Box set with Diamonds. 4 Golden +Lockets.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>Also 1 Silver Porringer—2 Gold Boxons—7 +Green Stones—Rubies Great & Small 67—P'cl +Peaces of Eight & Dollars—Also 1 Bag +Lump Silver—a Small Chaine—a corral Necklace—1 +Bag English Crowns."</div></div> + +<p>Captain Jonathan Wellsby listened to this luscious +recital with an air of mild amusement. He was of a +temper too stolid and sensible to waste his time on random +treasure hunting. Blackbeard might have chosen +his hiding-place anywhere along hundreds of leagues of +coast. He could understand the agitation of these two +adventurous lads to whom this memorandum was like a +magic spell. Of such was the spirit of youth.</p> + +<p>"Any more of it?" demanded Joe Hawkridge.</p> + +<p>"The next page was ripped out of the journal," answered +the skipper. "What cruise did he mean? If it +was this last one, he may have hid it on the Virginia or +Carolina coast."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> + +<p>Master Cockrell gave it as an excuse that he had sat +up long enough and would return to his bunk. He was +fairly bursting for a conference with Joe, and as soon as +they were alone he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"It may be the sea-chest! What do you think?"</p> + +<p>"A handsome clue, I call it, something to warm the +cockles of your heart," grinned the sea urchin. "Aye, +Jack, I should wager he wrote that down whilst he lay +at anchor in Cherokee Inlet."</p> + +<p>"It seems shabby of us to keep the secret from Captain +Wellsby, but there is an obligation on us——"</p> + +<p>"To Bill Saxby and the old sea wolf," said Joe. +"We'll not forget this trump of a skipper when it comes +to splittin' up the treasure."</p> + +<p>"I am anxious for Captain Bonnet and his crew," remarked +Jack. "With this crusade against pirates +afoot, our friends may be hanged before we see them +again."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>THE OLD BUCCANEER IS LOYAL</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>S</big>ORROW mingled with rejoicing when the <i>King +George</i> brigantine sailed into Charles Town harbor. +The sea fight off Cherokee Inlet had taken +a heavy toll of brave seamen and there were vacant +chairs and aching hearts ashore, but the fiendish Blackbeard +had been blotted out and would no more harry the +coast. Small and rude as was this pioneer settlement, +it was most fair and attractive to the eyes of young Master +Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge. In the house of +Uncle Peter Forbes they rested at their ease and +planned sedate careers for themselves.</div> + +<p>Even the treasure ceased to be uppermost in their +lively discussions. It could wait a while. They were +no longer under the spell of its influence. This different +world in which they now dwelt so contentedly made +their adventures seem like shadowy figments with precious +little romance in them. And neither lad expressed +any great anxiety to go exploring the noisome Cherokee +swamp and to challenge the ghost of Blackbeard.</p> + +<p>Without a sign of rebellion, Jack returned to his +books and lessons in Parson Throckmorton's garden. +The learning already acquired he began to pass on to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +Joe Hawkridge, who was a zealous pupil and determined +to read and write and cipher without letting the +grass grow under his feet. It was this young pirate's +ambition to make a shipping merchant of himself, and +Councilor Forbes found him employment in a warehouse +where the planters traded their rice, resin, and +indigo for the varied merchandise brought out from +England. Jack aspired to manage his uncle's plantation +and to acquire lands of his own and some day to sit +in the Governor's Council.</p> + +<p>Of a Sunday morning he went to the little English +church, dressed in his best and using a cane, for he +limped from the wound in his thigh. Joe Hawkridge +walked with him, careful to banish his grin, and sat in +the Councilor's pew where he paid proper attention to +the prayers and responses. This caused some gossip +but the ocean waif was winning his way to favor by dint +of industry, a shrewd wit, and his perennial good humor.</p> + +<p>Frequently they escorted fair Dorothy Stuart home +from church. She was fonder than ever of stalwart +Master Cockrell because the colonel had told her he +would have been a dead man had not the lad intervened +to save him from the stroke of a negro pirate. Alas, +however, it was not that sentimental devotion for which +the lovelorn Jack yearned, and he confided to Joe that +his existence was blighted. This evoked no sympathy +from the fickle Hawkridge, who was forgetting his +black-eyed lass in the Azores and was already a slave to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +Dorothy Stuart. She laughed at them both and was +their true friend, tender, and whimsical and anxious for +their welfare. It was a valuable chapter in their education.</p> + +<p>One morning while Joe was at work in the warehouse +near the harbor, he heard a commotion in the street and +was about to run out when his employer came in and +explained:</p> + +<p>"Two pirates captured,—just as I happened to pass. +The knaves landed from a boat in broad daylight, unaware +that Charles Town has mended its loose habit toward +such gentry."</p> + +<p>"What will be done with 'em?" quickly asked Joe, +with an unhappy premonition.</p> + +<p>"They were recognized as two of Stede Bonnet's old +hands that used to resort to the tavern. Soldiers of the +Governor's guard have been sent for to drag them to the +gaol."</p> + +<p>Joe hastened out but slackened his pace to lag behind +the crowd of idlers who were jostling the prisoners along +with hoots and jeers. Yes, there was the tall, gaunt +frame and gray head of old Trimble Rogers whose mien +was so forbidding and masterful that the mob forbore +to handle him too roughly, unarmed though he was. At +his elbow trudged chubby Bill Saxby, gazing about him +with those wide blue eyes in which was not a trace of +guile. Joe realized that for him to intercede would +make matters worse. He was a reformed pirate on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +probation and was known to have sailed with Blackbeard +himself.</p> + +<p>Therefore he darted into another street and sped to +find Jack Cockrell, who chanced to be at home. They +rushed into the room where Uncle Peter Forbes was +writing at his desk and informed him that their two +staunch comrades had come ashore to find them and were +already in custody and something must be done to save +them from the wrath of Governor Johnson, who had a +mortal distaste for pirates still at large. The Councilor +calmed the perturbation by assuring them:</p> + +<p>"I have already spoken to His Excellency in behalf +of these two men should they appear in this port. He +was not wholly pleased but promised clemency should +they offer to repent and if I gave surety for the pledge."</p> + +<p>"They will be ready to live as respectable as Joe," +impetuously declared Master Cockrell. "I'll go bail +on it. Bill Saxby is a tradesman by nature and if you +will lend him enough money to set himself up as a linen-draper +and haberdasher, Uncle Peter, he can live happily +ever after."</p> + +<p>"And old Trimble Rogers has sailed his last cruise +under the Jolly Roger, Councilor," put in Joe Hawkridge. +"His timbers are full o' dry rot and he seeks a +safe mooring."</p> + +<p>"There seems no end to the bad company you drag +me into," quoth Uncle Peter. "My hat and broadcloth +cloak, Jack, and let us fare to the gaol and see what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +these awkward visitors have to say. After that I will +attend upon the Governor."</p> + +<p>In better spirits the anxious lads followed the dignified +Secretary of the Council to the strongly built gaol +on the edge of the town. In a very gloomy cell behind +iron bars they found the luckless brace of pirates, shackled +hand and foot. Bill Saxby took it like a placid +philosopher but the ancient buccaneer was spitting +Spanish oaths and condemning the hospitality of +Charles Town in violent terms. He quieted instantly +at sight of his young friends and the harsh, wrinkled +visage fairly beamed as he shouted:</p> + +<p>"Our <i>camaradas</i>, Bill. Here they be, to haul us out +of this filthy hole! I forgive the unmannerly folks that +allus used to welcome us."</p> + +<p>They shook hands through the bars while Uncle Peter +stood aside. He felt that his official station forbade his +joining this fraternal reunion. In the narrow corridor +he chatted with the gaoler to pass the time while Bill +Saxby was explaining to the lads:</p> + +<p>"We was in duty bound, in a manner of speakin', to +run you down as soon as possible and make a report. +Eh, Trimble?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, Bill, to see what was to be done about the treasure. +We wouldn't have 'em think we had run off with +it. D'ye see, Master Cockrell, me and Bill took Cap'n +Bonnet into our confidence. He is an honorable man +and to be mentioned along with the great Cap'n Ed'ard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +Davis what I was shipmates with in the South Sea and +at the sack of——"</p> + +<p>"Stow it, grandsire," cried Bill. "I don't want to +linger in gaol while you spin that long-winded yarn. +Tell the lads what they want to know."</p> + +<p>"If I weren't chained to the wall, Bill, I'd put my fist +in your eye," severely retorted the veteran. "As I was +a-sayin', Cap'n Bonnet was all courtesy and allowed the +treasure belonged to us and he was ready to help find it."</p> + +<p>"We told him we had to join up with our gentleman +partner, Master Cockrell, and win his consent," said +Bill, "afore we put our hooks on that blessed sea-chest."</p> + +<p>"Which is exactly how I felt about you," Jack told +them and he was greatly touched by this proof of their +unbending fidelity. "But how did you manage it to +reach Charles Town?"</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Bonnet hove to outside the bar last night," +explained Trimble Rogers, "and gave us a handy boat +to sail in with."</p> + +<p>The wary Joe Hawkridge took alarm at this and put +a finger to his lips. It was unwise to parade the fact +that Stede Bonnet cruised so near. His Excellency, +the Governor, was anxious that he should share the fate +of Blackbeard. Jack Cockrell had no fear that his +Uncle Peter would be a tale-bearer. His private honor +would forbid because this interview with the two lads +was a privileged communication. What made Jack a +trifle anxious was the presence of the gaol keeper in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +corridor. He was a sneaking sort of man, soft of tread +and oily of speech and inclined to curry favor with those +in authority.</p> + +<p>Councilor Peter Forbes had tactfully withdrawn this +person beyond earshot but he began to edge toward the +cell. Old Trimble Rogers tried to heed Joe's cautionary +signal but what he meant to be a whisper was a hoarse +rumble as he explained:</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Bonnet sends word he will be off this coast +again in thirty days. He will come ashore hisself, to +Sullivan's Island to get the answer, whether you are to +go with us, Master Cockrell, to Cherokee Inlet."</p> + +<p>Jack glanced at the gaol keeper but he was a dozen +feet away and deep in talk with Mr. Forbes. There +was no sign that this confidence had been overheard. +Bill Saxby scolded the buccaneer for his careless speech +but the old man had been a freebooter too long to be +easily tamed. With artful design, Jack led him away +from this dangerous ground and suggested:</p> + +<p>"You are done with pirating? And will you both be +ready to stay ashore in Charles Town after this,—this +certain errand is accomplished?"</p> + +<p>"I swear it gladly and on my own Bible," answered +Trimble Rogers.</p> + +<p>"Swear it for me," said Bill Saxby.</p> + +<p>Mr. Forbes interrupted and told the lads to go home +and await his conference with Governor Johnson. It +proved to be a session somewhat stormy but the upshot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +was a pardon conditioned on good behavior. The convincing +argument was that these men had been faithful +to Master Cockrell through thick and thin and had saved +him from perishing in the Cherokee swamp. Moreover, +it might be an inducement to others of Stede Bonnet's +crew to surrender themselves and forsake their evil ways.</p> + +<p>No sooner were these two pirates released from gaol +than they found an active friend in Mr. Peter Forbes. +He went about it quietly, for obvious reasons, but he +felt under great obligation to them for their goodness +to his nephew. Just at this time one of the shop-keepers +became a bankrupt because of unthrifty habits and +too much card-playing. Through an agent, Peter +Forbes purchased the stock of muslins and calicos, of +brocades and taffetas, calash bonnets, satin petticoats, +shoe-buckles, laces, and buttons. And having given his +promissory notes for said merchandise, Bill Saxby +proudly hung his own sign-board over the door.</p> + +<p>There was a flutter among the ladies. Here was a +noteworthy sensation, to be served by an obsequious +pirate with innocent blue eyes who had sailed the Spanish +Main. A few days and it was evident that William +Saxby, late of London, would conduct a thriving trade. +He was fairly enraptured with his good fortune and +congenial occupation and took it most amiably when +Jack Cockrell or Joe Hawkridge sauntered in to tease +him. He was a disgrace to Stede Bonnet, said they, and +never had a pirate fallen to such a low estate as this.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + +<p>Trimble Rogers was in no situation to rant at smug +William, the linen draper. The old sea wolf who had +outlived the most glorious era of the storied buccaneers, +had a few gold pieces tucked away in his belt and at +first he was content to loaf about the tavern, with an +audience to listen to his wondrous tales which ranged +from Henry Morgan to the great Captain Edward +Davis. But he had never been a sot or an idler and +soon he found himself lending a hand to assist the landlord +in this way or that. And when disorder occurred, +a word from this gray, hawk-eyed rover was enough to +quell the wildest roisterers from the plantations.</p> + +<p>Children strayed to the tavern green to sit upon his +knee and twist those fierce mustachios of his, and their +mothers ceased to snatch them away when they learned +to know him better. Sometimes in his leisure hours he +pored over his tattered little Bible with muttering lips +and found pleasure in the Psalmist's denunciation of +his enemies who were undoubtedly Spaniards in some +other guise. He puttered about the flower beds with +spade and rake and kept the bowling green clipped +close with a keen sickle. In short, there was a niche for +Trimble Rogers in his old age and he seemed well satisfied +to fill it, just as Admiral Benbow spent his time +among his posies at Deptford when he was not bombarding +or blockading the French fleet off Dunkirk.</p> + +<p>Jack Cockrell halted for a chat while passing the +tavern and these two shipmates retired to a quiet corner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +of the porch. The blind fiddler was plying a lively bow +and a dozen boys and girls danced on the turf. Trimble +Rogers surveyed them with a fatherly aspect as he said:</p> + +<p>"They ain't afeard of me, Jack, not one of 'em. Was +ever a worn out old hulk laid up in a fairer berth?"</p> + +<p>"None of the sea fever left, Trimble? What about +Captain Bonnet? He is due off the bar two days hence. +My uncle frowns upon my sailing with him to seek the +treasure. He insists that I steer clear of pirates."</p> + +<p>"And that's entirely proper, Jack. I look at things +different like, now I be a worthy citizen. 'Tis better to +fit out a little expedition of our own, if we can drag +silly Bill out of his rubbishy shop."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he will come fast enough after a while. We +are all tired of the sea just now," said Jack. "What +about Captain Bonnet and meeting him at Sullivan's +Island to pass the word that we must decline his courteous +invitation?"</p> + +<p>"I shall tend to that," answered the retired buccaneer, +"And from what gossip I glean in the tavern, +Cap'n Bonnet had best steer for his home port of Barbadoes +and quit his fancy piratin'. This fractious +Governor has set his heart on hangin' him. And Colonel +Stuart is up and about again and has ordered the <i>King +George</i> to fit for sea. 'Tis rumored he has sent messages +to the north'ard for Lieutenant Maynard to sail +another cruise in his company."</p> + +<p>"Then be sure you warn Stede Bonnet," strongly ad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>vised +Jack. "I would not be disloyal to the Province +or to mine own good uncle, but one good turn deserves +another."</p> + +<p>Two days after this, Trimble Rogers vanished from +the tavern and found Jack's canoe tied in a cove beyond +the settled part of the town. It was in the evening of +this same day that Jack was reading in his room by candle-light +when a tap-tap on the window shutter startled +him. He threw it open and dimly perceived that +Dorothy Stuart stood there. Her face was white in the +gloom and she wore a dress of some dark stuff. At her +beckoning gesture, Jack slipped through the window +and silently led her into the lane.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jack, I have been so torn betwixt scruples," +she softly confided. "And I hope I am not doing +wrong. If I am disloyal to my dear father, may I be +forgiven. But I have made myself believe that there is +a stronger obligation."</p> + +<p>"It concerns Stede Bonnet," murmured Jack, reading +the motive of this secret errand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you are bound to befriend him, Jack, on your +honor as a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"He has been warned to keep clear of Charles Town, +Dorothy. Trimble Rogers has gone off to meet him."</p> + +<p>"But it is worse than that. The keeper of the gaol, +Jason Cutter, was closeted with my father this morning. +I heard something that was said. Soldiers have been +sent to Sullivan's Island."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p> + +<p>"To capture Captain Bonnet?" wrathfully exclaimed +Jack. "Did Colonel Stuart go with them? +Does he know why Stede Bonnet risks putting into this +harbor in a small boat? It is to do a deed of pure friendship +and chivalry."</p> + +<p>"All my father understands is what the gaoler reported," +replied Dorothy, "and the Governor acted on +this evidence. No, he did not go with the troops but +sent a major in command."</p> + +<p>"Too late for me to be of service, alas! If they take +Captain Bonnet alive, he will most certainly hang. And +Bill Saxby and Trimble Rogers will be embroiled in +some desperate attempt to aid his escape from gaol."</p> + +<p>"I am a dreadful, wicked girl to be thus in league +with pirates," sighed Mistress Dorothy, "but I confess +to you, Jack dear, that it would grieve my heart to see +this charming pirate wear a hempen halter."</p> + +<p>"My rival, is he? So I have found you out," flared +Jack, pretending vast indignation. "Nevertheless, I +shall still be true to him."</p> + +<p>"And to me, I trust," she fondly replied. "Oh, I +feel so thankful that faithful Trimble Rogers is keeping +tryst. He will hear the soldiers blundering about in +time to make Captain Bonnet take heed and shove off."</p> + +<p>Jack walked home with her, very glad of the excuse, +but with jealousy rankling in his bosom. It was not a +lasting malady, however, and he had forgotten it next +morning when he went early to the tavern to look for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +Trimble Rogers. There he found the major of the detachment +at breakfast with an extraordinary story to +tell. He had made a landing on Sullivan's Island after +dark and deployed some of his men to patrol the beach +that faced the ocean. The squad which remained with +him had surprised a man lurking amongst the trees. +Pursued and fired at, he had led them an infernal chase +until they burst out upon the open beach. There they +heard the sound of oars and voices in a boat which was +making in for the shore. The hunted man raised his +voice in one stentorian shout of:</p> + +<p>"Pull out to sea, Cap'n Bonnet. And 'ware this +coast. The soldiers are on my heels. Old Trimble +Rogers sends a fare-ye-well."</p> + +<p>The boat was wrenched about in a trice and moved +away from the island, soon disappearing in the direction +of the bar. The major's men had shot at it but without +effect. When they had rushed to capture the fugitive +who had shouted the warning, they found him prone +upon the sand. There was not a scratch on him and yet +he was quite dead. The prodigious exertion had broken +his heart, ventured the major, and it had ceased to beat. +His body would be prepared for Christian burial because +of the esteem in which he was already held by +many of the townspeople.</p> + +<p>To Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge it was sad +news indeed but tender-hearted Bill Saxby mourned +like one who had lost a parent. He closed the shop for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +a day and hung black ribbons on the knob. They agreed +that the end had come for Trimble Rogers as he would +have wished it, giving his life in loyal service to a friend +and master. And perhaps it was better thus than for +the creeping disabilities of old age to overtake him.</p> + +<p>"He knew he was liable to pop off," said Bill, "with +the rheumatism getting closer to his heart all the time. +And he told me, did Trimble, that his share of the treasure +was to go to the poor and needy of the town. Orphans +and such was Trimble's weakness."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>THE QUEST FOR PIRATES' GOLD</h3> + + +<div class='unindent'><big>A</big> SMALL sloop was making its leisurely way up +the Carolina coast with a crew of a dozen men +all told. The skipper was Captain Jonathan +Wellsby who was taking this holiday cruise before sailing +for England to command a fine new ship in the +colonial trade. In the cabin were Jack Cockrell and +Joe Hawkridge, Councilor Peter Arbuthnot Forbes, +and that brisk young linen draper William Saxby. In +the forecastle were trusty seamen who had sailed in the +<i>Plymouth Adventure</i>. The sloop's destination was +Cherokee Inlet and she was equipped with tackle and +gear for a peculiar kind of fishing.</div> + +<p>For once they made a voyage without fear of pirates. +Safely the sloop passed in by the outlying cay where +the charred bones of Blackbeard's brig were washed by +the surf. An anchorage was found in the bight where +the <i>Revenge</i> had tarried, close by the beach and the +greensward of the pirates' old camp. After diligent +preparation all hands manned a boat which pulled into +the mouth of the sluggish creek. With axes to clear the +entanglements and men enough to shove over the muddy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +shoals the boat was slowly forced up-stream and then +into the smaller creek at the fork of the waters.</p> + +<p>Uncle Peter Forbes was as gay as a truant schoolboy. +This was the lark of a lifetime. The two lads, +however, were uneasy and depressed. To them this +sombre region was haunted, if not by ghosts then by +memories as unhappy. They would not have been surprised +to see Blackbeard skulking in the tall grass, his +head bound in red calico, his pistols cocked to ambush +them. And, alas, old Trimble Rogers was not along to +protect them with his musket. He had lived and +dreamed in expectation of this quest.</p> + +<p>"We'll find no treasure, nary a penny of it," dolefully +observed Joe Hawkridge who had actually begun +to shiver.</p> + +<p>"Of course we can find the sea-chest, you ninny," +scolded Jack.</p> + +<p>"Dead or alive, Cap'n Ed'ard Teach flew away with +it afore now," was Joe's rejoinder. "He was a master +one at black magic."</p> + +<p>"Don't chatter like an idiot," spoke up Uncle Peter +who was wildly brushing the mosquitoes from a sun-blistered +nose. "My faith, I cannot understand how +you lads got out of this swamp alive. It breeds all the +plagues of Egypt."</p> + +<p>They came to the tiny lagoon and rounded the bend +beyond which the pirogue had capsized Blackbeard's +cock-boat. There was nothing to indicate that any hu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>man +being had visited this lonely spot since that sensational +encounter. No trees had been cut down to serve +as purchases for lifting the sea-chest from its oozy hiding-place. +It was agreed that some traces would have +remained if Blackbeard had been at work here before +his death.</p> + +<p>A camp was made upon the higher ground of the +knoll and the party went about its task with skill and +deliberation. Jointed sounding rods of iron were +screwed together and the exact position of the spot determined +from Jack Cockrell's chart and description. +But neither he nor Joe Hawkridge could be coaxed into +lending more active assistance. They were afraid of +disturbing the bones of the drowned seaman who had +fled from Blackbeard's bloody dirk. Jack had seen him +go down and it was not a pleasant recollection. And +so these two heroes who had faced so many other perils +without flinching were content to putter about half-heartedly +and let the others exert themselves.</p> + +<p>All one day they prodded and sounded but struck +only sunken logs. What gave them more concern than +this was the discovery that the slender rods, sharpened +to a point, could be driven through one yielding stratum +after another of muck and ooze. Through myriad years +the decaying vegetable matter of this rank swamp had +been accumulating in these layers of muck. There was +no telling how deep down the weight of the sea-chest +might have caused it to settle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Peter Forbes began to lose his youthful optimism +and took four men to go and dig in the knoll while the +others continued to search for the chest. The wooden +cross still stood above the grave of Jesse Strawn and +the long-leaf pines murmured his requiem. Having selected +at random a place where he thought treasure +ought to be, the worthy Councilor wielded a shovel until +he perspired rivers.</p> + +<p>"Confound it, Blackbeard must have left a scrap of +paper somewhere to give us the proper instructions," +he complained. "'Tis the custom of all proper pirates. +Look at the trouble he has put us to."</p> + +<p>"I helped search the cabin afore the brig was set +afire," replied one of the seamen, "and all the writin' +we found was in the bit of a book with the leaves tore +out, same as Cap'n Wellsby made a fair copy of."</p> + +<p>"That explains it," cried Uncle Peter. "I have no +doubt the vile Blackbeard destroyed his private note +of where he hid it, just to make the matter more difficult +for us honest men."</p> + +<p>This was plausible, but it failed to solve the riddle. +A day or two of impatient digging and the portly Secretary +of the Council was almost wrecked in mind and +body, what with insects and heat, ague and fatigue. +The ardor of his companions had likewise slackened. +The boat's crew swore that the condemned sea-chest +must have sunk all the way to China. Joe Hawkridge +still argued that Blackbeard had whisked it away in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +cloud of smoke and brimstone. The unhappy Mr. Peter +Forbes suggested:</p> + +<p>"What say you, lads, to dropping down to the sloop +for a respite from this accursed swamp? There we can +take comfort and discuss what is to be done next."</p> + +<p>Captain Jonathan Wellsby, who was a stubborn man, +urged that they fish once more for the sunken chest before +taking a rest, and this was agreed to. The sounding +rods were plied with vigor and, at length, one of +them drove against some solid object deep in the mud. +It was more unyielding than a water-soaked log. The +iron rod was lifted and rammed down with a thud which +was like metal striking against metal. The explorers +forgot the torments of the swamp. Uncle Peter +Forbes was in no haste to flee the mosquitoes and the +fever.</p> + +<p>The sailors began to rig the spars and tackle as a +derrick set up on the bank of the creek, with grapple +hooks like huge tongs to swing out over the water and +grope in the muddy depths. Absorbed in this fascinating +task, they were startled beyond measure to hear +the <i>thump, thump</i> of thole-pins sounding from somewhere +below them in the swamp. It was no Indian +pirogue. Only a ship's boat heavily manned could make +that cadenced noise of oars. Bill Saxby bade the men +be silent while he held a hand at his ear and harkened +with taut attention. The mysterious boat, following the +winding channel of the creek, was drawing nearer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +Voices could be heard, a rough command, a curse, a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"No honest men, I warrant," growled Captain Jonathan +Wellsby, ready to take command by virtue of long +habit. "Who else can they be but pirates, plague 'em. +And they are betwixt us and the sea. All hands ashore +and look to your arms. Lively now."</p> + +<p>They were bewildered and taken all aback. In this +holiday excursion after Blackbeard's treasure the party +had reckoned only with dead or phantom pirates. +There was some confusion, while Bill Saxby bawled at +the seamen as addle-pated lubbers. Deserting their +boat, they scrambled to cover in the tall grass while +those busy with the derrick gear rushed to catch up +muskets and powder-horns.</p> + +<p>The strange boat was steadily forging up-stream and +presently it was disclosed to view no more than a cable-length +away. It was a pinnace filled with ruffianly fellows, +more than a score of them. No merchant seamen +these but brethren of the coast, freebooters who were +gallows-ripe. Bill Saxby was quick to recognize two or +three of them as old hands of Blackbeard's crew who +must have deserted their leader in time to escape his +fate. Presumably they had recruited others of their +own stamp to go adventuring in the Cherokee swamp. +They could have only one purpose. The very sight of +them was enough to explain it. They were in quest of +treasure like bloodhounds trailing a scent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> + +<p>Against such a force as this, discretion was the better +part of valor. A ferocious yell burst from the pinnace +and a flight of musket balls whistled over the heads of +the fugitives who had so hastily abandoned their operations +with the derrick and gear and the boat. Stout Bill +Saxby and his comrades, finding concealment in the +swamp, primed their muskets and let fly a volley at the +pinnace which was an easy target. A pirate standing +in the stern-sheets clapped a hand to his thigh and sat +down abruptly. Another one let go his oar to dangle +a bloody hand.</p> + +<p>The pinnace drifted with the tide and stranded on a +weedy shoal while the blue powder smoke hung over it +like a fog. For the moment it was a demoralized crew +of pirates, roaring all manner of threats but at a loss +how to proceed. The other party took advantage of this +delay to beat a rapid retreat along the path which led +to the knoll where the camp was pitched. Upon this +higher ground they might hope to defend themselves +against a force which outnumbered them. They ran at +top speed, bending low, hidden from observation, avoiding +the pools and bogs.</p> + +<p>The pirates were diverted from their hostile intentions +as soon as they caught sight of the tall spars and +tackle, and the boat with its sounding rods and other +gear. With a great clamor they swarmed out of the +pinnace and began to investigate. This gave the refugees +on the knoll a little time to make their camp more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +compact, to wield the shovels furiously and throw up +intrenchments, to cut down trees for a barricade, to fill +the water kegs, to prepare to withstand an assault or a +siege.</p> + +<p>The sun went down and the infatuated pirates were +still exploring the creek, convinced that they could +straightway lay hold of the treasure they had come to +find. They kindled a fire on the bank and evidently +intended to pass the night there. This mightily eased +the minds of the toilers upon the knoll. Their predicament +was still awkward in the extreme but the fear of +sudden death had been lifted. And it seemed possible +that these bothersome pirates might conclude to leave +them alone.</p> + +<p>It went sorely against the grain, however, to be driven +away from the precious sea-chest when it was almost +within their grasp, to have to scuttle from this crew of +scurvy pirates. Jack Cockrell was for making a sortie +by night, gustily declaiming to his companions:</p> + +<p>"The sentries will be drunk or drowsy. I know these +swine. A well-timed rush and we can cut 'em down and +pistol the rest. Didn't they open fire on us from the +pinnace?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, Jack, and we'll fight to save our skins," said +the cool-headed Captain Wellsby, "but 'tis a desperate +business to attack yon cut-throats, even by night, and +there will be men of us hurt and killed. Blackbeard's +gold is not worth it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Right sensibly put," declared Mr. Peter Forbes. +"We had best spend this night in felling more trees and +notching logs to pile them breast high. If these pirates +find the sea-chest, they will leave us unmolested. If +they fail to find it, they may conclude that we have already +discovered the treasure. In that event, they will +storm the knoll and give us no quarter."</p> + +<p>"It would be rank folly to surrender," said stout Bill +Saxby. "There be men in the pinnace who have no +love for me nor for the two lads. 'Twas a shrewd suspicion +of theirs that Blackbeard had played secret tricks +in this Cherokee swamp, what with his excursions in +that little cock-boat."</p> + +<p>Keeping vigilant watch, they labored far into the +night until the camp on the knoll was a hard nut to +crack, with its surrounding ditch and palisade of logs +behind which a man could lie and shoot. Now and then +it might have been noted that Jack Cockrell and Joe +Hawkridge conferred with their heads together as +though something private were in the wind. As soon as +they were relieved from duty, some time before the +dawn, they stole very softly away from the knoll and +groped along the path which led to the creek. Curiosity +and the impetuous folly of youth impelled them to reconnoitre +the pirates' bivouac.</p> + +<p>"We may hear something worth listening to," whispered +Jack, "and perhaps we can crawl close and steal +some of their arms."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p> + +<p>"None of that," chided young Hawkridge. "I am +a man of goodly station in Charles Town and I would +go back with a whole hide."</p> + +<p>"You have grown too respectable," grumbled Jack. +"Here is the chance for one last fling——"</p> + +<p>His words stuck in his throat. A gurgle of horrified +amazement and he tumbled headlong into the grass with +a bare, sinewy arm wrapped around his neck. He +fought to free himself but the breath was fairly choked +out of him. Joe Hawkridge was desperately thrashing +about in the swamp, gasping and snorting, his cries also +smothered. In a twinkling they were captives, their +arms tightly bound behind them, the stifling grip of +their necks unrelaxed. Weakened almost to suffocation, +the two lads could make no lively resistance. Jack +uttered one feeble shout for help but subsided when +those strong fingers tightened the clutch on his windpipe.</p> + +<p>The assailants made no sound. Not a word was uttered. +There were several of them, for the helpless +prisoners were picked up bodily and lugged along by +the head and the heels. They expected to be taken into +the pirates' camp, believing they had been surprised and +overpowered by an outlying sentry post. It was an old +game, reflected Joe Hawkridge, to hold them alive as +hostages. But he was vastly puzzled when these silent +kidnappers, deftly picking their way in the darkness, +took a direction which led them away from the bank of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +the creek. They had forsaken the trampled path and +were proceeding through the trackless swamp whose pitfalls +were avoided by a sort of sixth sense.</p> + +<p>A mile of this laborious, uncanny progress and the +bearers dumped their burdens and paused to rest. The +two lads dizzily crawled to their feet and peered at the +shadowy figures surrounding them. They heard a guttural +exclamation and words exchanged in a strange, +harsh tongue.</p> + +<p>"Indians, blow me!" hoarsely whispered Joe, his +throat sore and swollen.</p> + +<p>"Comrade ahoy!" croaked Jack. "No pirates these, +but Yemassees. Do they save us for the torture?"</p> + +<p>"God knows. 'Tis a sorry mischance as ever was. +I'd sooner meet up with Blackbeard's ghost. Are ye +badly hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Like a man hanged by the neck, Joe, but no mortal +wounds. Had we minded Uncle Peter we would be safe +in the sloop by now. One more day of hunting that +filthy treasure undid us."</p> + +<p>The half dozen Yemassees squatted about them, talking +in low tones, and offered no further violence. Presumably +they were waiting for daybreak, having conveyed +their prisoners beyond all chance of rescue. The +two lads shivered with fear and weariness. They were +bruised and breathless and the thongs which tightly +bound their wrists made their arms ache intolerably. +Bitter was the regret at invading this baleful Cherokee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +swamp when they might have remained safe from all +harm in pleasant Charles Town.</p> + +<p>Sadly they watched the eastern sky grow brighter +while the gloom of the desolate swamp turned wan and +gray. The Indian captors became visible, brown, half-naked +men wearing leggings and breech-clouts of tanned +deerskin. Two of them carried muskets. They were +not made hideous by war-paint, as Jack Cockrell was +quick to note. He said to his companion:</p> + +<p>"A hunting party, Joe. They were spying on our +camp, like enough, or keeping watch of the pirates. No +doubt they wonder why white men come to fight one +another in the swamp."</p> + +<p>"They will wish to find out from us," was the hopeful +reply. "They seem a deal more curious than bloodthirsty. +A stout heart, say I, and we may weather it +yet."</p> + +<p>Soon the lads were roughly prodded ahead and went +stumbling and splashing through the marshy verdure +and slippery ooze until they came to higher ground and +easier walking. Upon this ridge they descried the camp +of the Yemassees—huts fashioned of poles and bark and +boughs, a freshly killed deer hanging from a tree, smoke +rising from beneath a huge iron kettle, plump, naked +children scampering in play with several barking dogs, +the squaws shrilly scolding them. Several warriors lazily +emerged from the huts, yawning, brushing the long +black hair from their eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>They moved more actively at perceiving the procession +which approached from the swamp. Two or three +ran back to the largest shelter and presently a big-bodied, +middle-aged man strode out, his mien stern and +dignified, his rank denoted by the elaborate fringed +tunic of buckskin and the head-dress of heron plumes. +He shouted something in a sonorous voice. The hunting +party hastened forward, dragging the two English +lads by the elbows and flinging them down at the feet +of the chief. He stood with arms folded across his chest, +scowling, formidable.</p> + +<p>Then he spoke a few words of broken English, to the +astonishment of the captives. He mentioned the names +of settlements on the Cape Fear River where, it was inferred, +he had been on friendly terms with the colonists. +His manner was not so much hostile as questioning. In +Charles Town both Joe and Jack had learned the common +phrases of the Indian tongue such as were used +among the merchants and traders. Pieced out with +signs and gestures, they were able to carry on a halting +dialogue with the chief of this small band.</p> + +<p>They were able to comprehend that he hated pirates +above all other men. He recognized the name of Blackbeard +and indicated his great joy that this eminent +scoundrel had met his just deserts. Many times the +freebooters of the coast had hunted and slain the Indians +for wanton sport. And perhaps the word had sped of +that expedition of Captain Stede Bonnet out of Charles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +Town when he had exterminated the Yemassees who +had set out to harry and burn the near-by plantations. +The two uneasy lads felt that they still stood in the +shadow of death unless they could persuade the chief +that they were not pirates, that they were in no way to +be confused with the crew of blackguards which had +ascended the creek in the pinnace.</p> + +<p>The chief delayed his judgment. Two young men +lifted the huge kettle from the fire. It was steaming +with a savory smell of stewed meat. The captives were +invited to join the others in spearing bits of venison +with sharpened sticks. Chewing lustily, with a noble +appetite, Joe Hawkridge confided:</p> + +<p>"My spirits rise, Jack. An empty belly always did +make a coward of me. How now, my lusty cockerel? +Shall we flap our wings and crow?"</p> + +<p>"Crow we must, or have our necks wrung as pirates," +said Jack, gnawing a bone. "Which one of us shall +make the first oration?"</p> + +<p>"The nephew of the Councilor, of course," cried Joe, +"with his cargo of Greek and Latin education. Make +a power of noise, Jack."</p> + +<p>And now indeed did young Master Cockrell prove +that all those drudging hours with snuffy Parson +Throckmorton had not been wasted. Standing in an +open space, clear of the crowd, he addressed the chief +in loud and impressive language. The gist of it was +that he and his friends were the sworn foes of all pirates<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +and especially anxious to rid the world of such vermin +as those that had come into the Cherokee swamp in the +great ship's boat and were encamped on the bank of the +creek.</p> + +<p>This other peaceful party entrenched on the knoll +were honest, law-abiding men of Charles Town who +would harm no one. They had come in search of pirates' +gold. If the chief of the Yemassees would join +forces with them and smoke the pipe of peace, they +would drive those foul pirates out of the Cherokee +swamp. And should the gold be found, it would be +fairly divided between the godly men of Charles Town +and their Indian allies. To bind this bargain Master +Cockrell and Master Hawkridge were ready to pledge +their honor and their lives.</p> + +<p>It was a most eloquent effort delivered with much +gesticulation. The Yemassee braves set in a circle and +grunted approval. They liked the sound and fury of it. +Jack hurled scraps of Homer and Virgil at them when +at a loss for resounding periods. The chief nodded his +understanding of such words as <i>pirates</i> and <i>gold</i> and +actually smiled when Jack's pantomime depicted the +death of Blackbeard on the deck of his ship. <i>Gold</i> was +a magic word to these Indians. It would purchase +muskets and powder and ball, cloth and ironmongery +and strong liquors from the white men of the settlements.</p> + +<p>The chief discussed it with his followers. During<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +the lull Joe Hawkridge said, with a long sigh of relief:</p> + +<p>"My scalp itches not so much, Jack. The notion of +having it twisted off with a dull blade vexed me. Ye +did wondrous well. The mouth of Secretary Peter +Forbes would ha' gaped wide open."</p> + +<p>"Much sound and little sense, Joe, but methinks it +hit the target. I took care to sprinkle it with such words +as yonder savage could bite on."</p> + +<p>"If we find no gold, the fat may be in the fire again, +but it gives us time to draw breath."</p> + +<p>They rubbed their chafed wrists and sat on the ground +while the savages held a long pow-wow. The chief was +explaining the purport of Master Cockrell's impressive +declamation. There was no enmity in the glances aimed +at the English lads. It was more a matter of deliberation, +of passing judgment on the truth or the falsity of +the story. It was plain to read that the Yemassees desired +to lay greedy hold of Blackbeard's gold. They +were like children listening to a fairy tale. The fat little +papooses crawled timidly near to inspect the mysterious +strangers and scrambled away squealing with delicious +terror.</p> + +<p>The hours passed and the verdict was delayed. Two +young braves stole away into the pine woodland on +some errand, at the behest of the chief. It was after +noon when they returned. With them came a dozen +Yemassee warriors from another hunting camp, strong,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +quick-footed men in light marching order who were +armed with long bows and knives. The chief spoke a +few words and mustered his force. All told he had more +than thirty picked followers. The English lads were +told to move with them.</p> + +<p>In single file the band flitted silently along the ridge +and plunged into the swamp. The prisoners were +closely guarded. At the slightest sign of treachery the +long knives would slither between their ribs. This they +well knew and their devout prayer was that their friends +on the knoll might not commit some rash act of hostility +and so ruin the enterprise. With heart-quaking trepidation +they perceived at some distance the rude barricade +of logs and the yellow streaks of earth hastily +thrown up.</p> + +<p>The cautious Yemassees concealed themselves as +though the swamp had swallowed them up. The chief +made certain signs, and the lads understood his meaning. +Jack Cockrell ripped a sleeve from his shirt and +tied it to a stick as a flag of truce. Joe Hawkridge advanced +with them, the stalwart chief between them, his +empty hands extended in token of peace. The ambushed +Yemassees, lying in the tall grass, were ready to +let fly with musket balls and flights of arrows or to +storm the knoll.</p> + +<p>A sailor on sentry duty gave the alarm and the lads +saw a row of heads bob above the logs, and the gleam +of weapons. Then Captain Jonathan Wellsby moved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +out into the open and was joined by Mr. Peter Forbes. +They stood gazing at the singular spectacle, the bedraggled +runaways who had vanished without trace, the +odd flag of truce, the brawny, dignified savage making +signs of friendship. The men in the stockade were ordered +to lay down their arms. They came running out +to cheer and wave their hats.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peter Forbes was torn betwixt affection and the +desire to scold his flighty nephew. They met half-way +down the slope and Jack hastened to explain:</p> + +<p>"Before you clap us in irons as deserters, Uncle +Peter, grant a parley, if you please. Our lives hang by +a hair."</p> + +<p>"God bless me, boy, we thought the pirates had slain +you both," spluttered Uncle Peter, a tear in his eye. +"What means this tall savage?"</p> + +<p>"A noble chief of the Yemassees who used us with +all courtesy," said Jack.</p> + +<p>Captain Wellsby had drawn Joe Hawkridge aside +and was swiftly enlightened concerning the alliance with +the Indians. Presently they were holding a conference, +all seated together in the shade of a tree. A tobacco +pipe of clay, with a long reed for a stem, was lighted +and passed from hand to hand. The chief puffed solemnly +with an occasional nod and a grunt. It was +agreed, with due ceremony, that the pirates should be +attacked in their camp and driven away. The Yemassee +warriors would make common cause with the English<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>men. +As a reward, Blackbeard's treasure was to be +fairly divided, half and half.</p> + +<p>The chief raised his voice in a long, deep shout of +summons and his band of fighting men emerged from +their ambush in the swamp. There was no reason for +delaying the movement against the pirates. The <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Yemasses'">Yemassees</ins> +were eager for the fray. They were about to +advance through the swamp, cunningly hidden, while +the Englishmen followed at a slower pace to spread out +on the flanks. Just then there was heard a sudden and +riotous commotion among the pirates at the creek. It +was a mad, jubilant uproar as though some frenzy had +seized them all. Bill Saxby leaned on his musket and +listened for a long moment.</p> + +<p>"The rogues have fished up the sea-chest, by the din +they make," said he. "We left that sounding rod +a-stickin' in the mud. They save us the trouble, eh, +Captain Wellsby?"</p> + +<p>The skipper laughed in his beard and floundered +ahead like a bear. Jack Cockrell passed the word to +the chief that the gold was awaiting them. Like +shadows the Yemassees drew near the creek and then, +full-lunged, terrific, their war-whoop echoed through +the dismal Cherokee swamp. Nimble Jack Cockrell +was not far behind them, his heart pumping as though +it would burst.</p> + +<p>He was in time to see four lusty pirates swaying at a +rope which led through the pulley-blocks of the spars<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +that overhung the creek as a tall derrick. They were +hoisting away with all their might while there slowly +rose in air a mud-covered, befouled sea-chest all hung +with weeds and slimy refuse. Two other pirates tailed +on to a guy rope and the heavy chest swung toward the +bank, suspended in air.</p> + +<p>At this moment the screeching chorus of the Indian +war-whoop smote their affrighted ears, followed by the +discharge of muskets. These startled pirates let go the +tackle and the guy rope and, with one accord, leaped +for the pinnace which floated close to the bank. The +weighty sea-chest swinging in air came down by the run +as the ropes smoked through the blocks. It had been +swayed in far enough so that it fell not in the water but +upon the edge of the shore between the derrick spars. +The rusty hinges and straps were burst asunder as the +treasure chest crashed upon a log and cracked open like +an egg.</p> + +<p>Out spilled a stream of doubloons and pieces of eight, +a cascade of gold and silver bars, of jewels flowing from +the rotten bags which had contained them. In this extraordinary +manner was the hoard of the departed +Blackbeard brought to light. The unfortunate pirates +who had found the spoils tarried not to gloat and rejoice. +They appeared to have urgent business elsewhere. +In hot pursuit came the ravening Yemassees, +yelling like fiends, assisted by the reinforcements of +Captain Jonathan Wellsby.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>What saved the lives of these panic-smitten pirates +was the dramatic explosion of that great treasure chest +when it fell and smashed upon the log. Indians and +Englishmen alike forgot their intent to shoot and +slaughter. They rushed to surround the bewitching +booty, to cut capers like excited urchins.</p> + +<p>"Share and share," roared Captain Wellsby, shoving +them headlong. "Half to the Yemassees and half to +us. Our word is given. Stand back, ye lunatics, while +we do the thing with order and decency."</p> + +<p>Already the pinnace was filled with cursing pirates +who saw that the game was lost. Some of them had left +their weapons in camp, others fired a few wild shots, but +those who had any wit left were tugging at the oars to +make for the open sea.</p> + +<p>"After 'em," roared Bill Saxby. "Follow down the +creek to make sure they do not molest our sloop."</p> + +<p>A score of men, Indians included, jumped into the +boat and pulled in chase, no longer on slaughter bent. +The only thought in their heads was to despatch the +errand and return to squat around the treasure chest. +Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge remained to help +scoop up the coin and jewels and stow them in stout +kegs and sacks. The stoical chief of the Yemassees was +grinning from ear to ear as he grunted:</p> + +<p>"<i>Plenty gold. Good! Hurrah, boys!</i>"</p> + +<p>Arm-in-arm Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge +danced a sailor's hornpipe upon the splintered lid of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +Blackbeard's sea-chest while they sang with all their +might:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"For his work he's never loth,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">An' a-pleasurin' he'll go,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tho' certain sure to be popt off,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>Yo, ho, with the rum below.</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + + +<h2>THE END</h2> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/illus8.jpg" width="400" height="159" alt="Through the mist" title="Through the mist" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blackbeard: Buccaneer, by Ralph D. 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