A Lad of Grit Part 6

Then for the first time I could see the Gannet coming down on the Friend of the Sea, the sun shining on her clouds of weatherworn canvas.

Having the weather gauge, she soon ranged up and opened fire. Why she had not done so before I could not understand, till a crowd of the pirates came for'ard, dragging with them my four men. While the chase lasted they had, so I afterwards learned, suspended their prisoners over the stern, thus preventing our humane captain from opening fire; but, now the chase was at an end, there was no further use for the doomed men.

Blindfolded, and with their arms tied behind their backs, the unfortunate men were marched to the entry port and pushed into the sea in sight of their comrades, who were powerless to prevent yet ready to avenge their deaths.

Both ships were firing rapidly, the shot from the Gannet whistling through the pirate's rigging and crashing through her hull at every broadside.

Though overmatched both in number and weight of guns, the Friend of the Sea fought bravely, and from my elevated position I could see the men stricken down by dozens, yet their fire was vigorously kept up.

Being sure that escape was impossible, the Gannet devoted all her attention to the hull of her foe, at the same time shortening the distance between them.

Now through the drifting smoke I could distinguish the crew of the Gannet. There was Captain Poynings standing unmoved amid the crash and din of the fight, the master standing by the wheel, his head bound with a blood-stained scarf, several men, still in death, enc.u.mbering her decks, while amid the throng of excited fighters a continuous procession of wounded was winding its way towards the main hatch.

Finally both vessels came within a few yards of each other, and I heard the order given: "Prepare to board!"

The pirates had now abandoned their guns, and had begun to cl.u.s.ter for'ard, under the shelter of the bulwarks, each man armed with pistol and cutla.s.s. They knew what the issue meant, and each man prepared to sell his life dearly.

As the crash came, and the two ships were interlocked, the Gannets, headed by their gallant captain, poured over the hammock nettings and gained their enemy's deck. Every inch was grimly contested, several of the Gannets falling between the two vessels and meeting a miserable fate by being ground between the heaving sides.

Captain Poynings singled out the scarred-faced lieutenant, and, being well ahead of his men, his position was for a time one of considerable danger. I watched the fight without fear of being made a mark by the pirates, who were too hard pressed to heed me. The sight held me spellbound, till I observed one of the pirates covering our captain with a musket. The man waited, with finger on trigger, till the position of the combatants would give him an opportunity to fire without injuring his leader.

Seeing this, I grasped a loaded musket, and at fifteen yards' distance put a ball through the villain's head. Almost at the same time Captain Poynings ran his opponent through the arm, and the latter, jumping backwards, turned and ran towards the hatchway.

Then came a cry, from which side I knew not: "The magazine! the magazine!" and immediately the captain shouted: "Back, men, for your lives!"

There was a rush for the shelter of the Gannet, and, realizing the danger, I crept along the foot-rope of the foreyard, gained the foreyard of the Gannet, and thence made for her foretop. Once there I lost no time in descending to the deck, heartily thankful at treading the planks of a British man-o'-war once more, though my return in the confusion was unnoticed.

The fighting was practically at an end, the Gannet being busily engaged in trying to free herself from the pirate's embrace, and keeping back the frenzied rushes of the doomed crew.

When the last grappling was severed, the Gannet swung slowly round, her flying jibboom still entangled in the pirate's bowsprit shrouds. Suddenly there was a blinding flash, followed by an appalling roar--the desperate villain had fired the magazine.

Luckily the Friend of the Sea had by this time used nearly all her ammunition, so that the explosion, though disastrous to herself, did us very little damage.

Before the debris flung high in the air by the explosion had fallen, the pirate ship had sunk beneath the waves, taking our flying jibboom and part of the jibboom with her, while a heavy pall of smoke covered the place where a moment before she was lying like a wounded animal at bay.

Now that all danger was past, the effects of the hardships I had undergone began to tell. I was faint, weary, and hungry; my clothes were in rags, my hands blistered, and my face blackened with powder. However, I made my way aft to report myself.

There was no sign of Captain Poynings on the quarterdeck, so I went towards his cabin. As I pa.s.sed underneath the break of the p.o.o.p I came face to face with young Greville Drake.

He stood stockstill for a moment, his eyes starting from his head in terror, till, realizing that I was flesh and blood, and not a phantom, he gasped: "Good heavens, 'tis Aubrey Wentworth back from the dead!"

Seeing I was like to fall, he took me by the arm and led me below. "But I must report myself," I said.

"Then report to me, Aubrey."

"You? Why not the captain?"

His answer was a suggestive jerk of his thumb towards the c.o.c.kpit hatch, where the grim procession of mangled seamen still continued.

"What!" I exclaimed. "Is Captain Poynings down?"

"Yes; struck down at the last of the fight, and so are all the other officers. In me you see the senior unwounded officer, and as such I am in command of the Gannet."

It was only too true. Our gallant captain had been hurled to the deck by a piece of falling timber from the doomed ship. The lieutenants were all either killed or dangerously wounded; the master, though he remained at his post during the engagement, had fallen through loss of blood; and the purser, who took his part in the fight as bravely as the rest, had had his left arm shattered above the elbow.

With the crew the mortality had been fearful, while hardly forty men were uninjured. With an undermanned, severely damaged ship, it was a question whether we should ever reach port again. Only a continued spell of fine weather would guarantee our safety.

Having washed, changed my ragged garments, and eaten a hearty meal, I went below to the c.o.c.kpit.

Here, lighted by the dismal glimmer of a few ship's lanterns, a ghastly sight met my eyes, while a hot, fetid stench filled the gloomy region like a cloud. Stretched upon rough wooden trestles, or huddled in rows upon the bare deck, were dozens of human beings, some moaning, others shrieking and cursing in their agony.

Our surgeon was about to operate upon a little powder-monkey, a lad of about fifteen years of age, who had received a ball in the shoulder. Lying by the lad's side was his father, whose leg had just been removed, the pitch with which the stump had been smeared still smoking. In spite of the pain caused by the rough-and-ready surgery, the father grasped his son's hand, encouraging and comforting the boy, as the surgeon probed for the bullet.

At length I found Captain Poynings. He, refusing the comfort of his own cabin, preferred to share with his gallant crew the horrors of the c.o.c.kpit, and lay, with his head and shoulders swathed in bandages, on a rough mattress, as if he had been an ordinary mariner.

Added to the dismal noises came the dull thud of the carpenters' hammers and mallets as they drove plugs into the shot holes betwixt wind and water, while the creaking of the ship's pumps betokened that she was leaking freely.

On going on deck I found that, as the next officer fit for duty after Drake, I was put in charge of the starboard watch, and had to take my share in the responsibility of navigating the Gannet to the nearest port.

This happened to be Gibraltar, which we reached after thirty-six hours of anxiety and arduous labour, and when the Gannet dropped anchor off the mole our feelings were those of relief and thanksgiving.

I accompanied Drake on sh.o.r.e to pay a visit to the Spanish authorities, asking them to afford us a.s.sistance in refitting. This request was readily and courteously granted, and during our stay, extending over three weeks, we had frequent opportunities of visiting the famous rock.

My companion often called my attention to the fact that military discipline seemed very lax at this great fortress; so when, forty-one years later, it was captured by a coup de main by Admirals Rooke and Shovel, the news of its falling an easy prey to us did not come as a great surprise.

At length the Gannet was again fit for sea; our captain was well enough to take command, and on the tenth day of September, 1663, we sailed for the sh.o.r.es of Old England.

CHAPTER XI.

--Of the Manner of my Homecoming.

Bad weather dogged us during our homeward voyage. Crossing the Bay of Biscay we were battened down for three days, and, save on one occasion, I did not go on deck the whole time the storm raged.

That occasion called for every available hand, for the securing bolts of two of our deck guns had broken adrift, and the huge ungainly weapons charged to and fro across the ship, carrying destruction in their pa.s.sage. After strenuous efforts the guns were secured, but at a cost of four men washed overboard and five injured, either by the heavy seas that came tumbling inboard, or else by the wild career of the derelict weapons. After the gale came a fog, so thick and continuous that for two days we could scarce see the end of our jibboom.

Captain Poynings, after deliberating with the master, came to the conclusion that land was not far off, but the weather did not allow of the use of either s.e.xtant or quadrant. The lead, then, was our only guide; so a man was stationed in the chains, and minute-guns were fired in the hope that we might hear an answering and rea.s.suring sound.

With the first cast a depth of thirty fathoms was obtained, and shortly afterwards the fog cleared, disclosing a bold headland on our larboard bow.

"Land! land!" was the cry, and amongst the men for'ard there was almost a wrangle, some affirming that the headland was the Start, others the Lizard or "The Bill", while a few sanguine men expressed their belief that it was the coast of the Wight.

"Keep the lead going," shouted the master, as the fog again swept down upon us like a pall, shutting us out of the sight of the land we so eagerly desired.

With great regularity the lead gave a gradual shoaling till twenty-four fathoms were announced.

Suddenly we were startled by the lookout shouting: "Breakers ahead!"

"'Bout ship!" ordered the master, and with a creaking of blocks and a slatting of sails the Gannet stood off on the other tack.

We could hear the dull roar of rushing water, but how far the sound came we could not determine..

"Keep her as she is, bos'n's mate," commanded the master. "Faith, as if I did not know; this is none other than the Race of Portland!"

As night came on, the wind, hitherto steady, increased into a gale, and before midnight it blew a hurricane such as had not been known for years; and to sheer off a dangerous coast we had to keep under storm canvas, though had we had searoom the master would have had the ship to lay to.

An hour after midnight our mainsail, though treble-reefed, parted with a report that was heard above the storm, the torn canvas streaming out to lee'ard like so many whips; and simultaneously our bowsprit carried away close to the gammonings, with the result that the ship yawed, then shot up into the wind.

With a shuddering crash the foremast went by the board, and we were helpless in the midst of the raging sea.

I kept close to Captain Poynings, who gave no sign of the presentiment that the Gannet's last hour had come.

Rapidly we drifted sh.o.r.ewards, where, in the inky blackness, a line of phosph.o.r.escent light denoted the breaking of the boiling water upon an ironbound coast.

The master came aft and shouted in the captain's ear. What he said I could not tell, the noise of the elements deadening all other sound, but to his question the captain merely shook his head. Again the master appealed, pointing to the now rapidly nearing cliffs. A deprecatory shrug was the reply, and Captain Poynings, turning on his heel, walked to the shelter of the p.o.o.p.

The master made his way for'ard, and, turning out some of the seamen, bade them let go the anchor. With a rush and a roar the stout hempen cable ran through the hawsepipe, the vessel snubbed, swung round, and the next moment the cable parted as if made of pack thread.

Antic.i.p.ating the worst, we all gripped the first object that came to our hands and awaited the shock.

It was not long in coming. There was a crash that shook the ship from stem to stern; her keel had struck a rock. Again she swung till her bows pointed insh.o.r.e. Then came another crash, the main and mizzen masts went over the side, and after one or two violent motions the Gannet remained hard and fast, the heavy seas pouring right over her.

By this time the day had dawned, and we could see that the ship's bows were close insh.o.r.e, so that had our bowsprit and jibboom remained they would have been touching the rocks, up which the broken water dashed in a terrific manner that made any attempt to swim ash.o.r.e a matter of utter impossibility.

The after part of the ship was now breaking up fast. Our gallant captain still remained on the quarterdeck, having buckled on his sword as if going into action. Grasping his speaking-trumpet he shouted his last order: "Look to yourselves, men, and G.o.d have mercy on us all!" Then came a huge, tumbling, white-crested wave that swept the doomed vessel from the stern as far for'ard as the foremast.

When it had pa.s.sed, not a sign was to be seen of the brave and ill-fated captain, who, with a score of his men, had been swept against the pitiless rocks.

Cl.u.s.tered in blank despair on the fo'c'sle were all that remained of the once smart crew of the Gannet. I remember seeing the lieutenant, the bos'n, Greville Drake, and about a score of the men, but, huddled on the lee side of the bulwarks, I remained, chilled to the bone and drenched by the drifting spray, hardly conscious of my peril or the presence of my shipmates in distress.

Above the slight motion caused by the heavy seas striking the hull there came a greater shock --the Gannet had parted amidships.

The bos'n's voice was heard faintly above the roar of the elements, and looking up I saw that, by the breaking of the ship, the forepart of the Gannet was raised in consequence of the 'midship portion subsiding, and that her bows were nearly level with a flat, rocky ledge but twenty feet away.

At the same time several men appeared on sh.o.r.e, looking at us intently, yet making no offer of a.s.sistance. We waved, making signs to them to throw a rope, but, to our astonishment, our appeals were met with a callous indifference. "You miserable wretches!" yelled the bos'n, shaking his fist in the direction of the inhospitable men. "Would I could get at you, ye cowardly landlubbers!"

Then a seaman close to me cried out: "Never a helping hand will we get from they, bos'n. I know where we be, for yon's the Tilly Whim Caves, and nought but smugglers and wreckers bide hereabouts."

Smugglers and wreckers! Instantly my mind harked back to the scene in the court at Winton, when Master Joseph Hawkes gave testimony against the two rascally Dorset smugglers.

"Now, men, bestir yourselves," said the bos'n, turning towards us. "Bear a hand with that spar, and with the help of Providence we'll save our skins yet."

The prospect of safety lashed the worn-out crew to action. By their combined efforts a fore-t'gallant spar was dragged to the spot where the broken bowsprit formed a secure support. With a hoa.r.s.e "Yo ho!" the spar was thrust forward, and just as its weight was on the point of overbalancing the weight of the seamen on the inboard part, the extremity touched the edge of the rocks. With another effort it was thrust securely on to the ledge, and the bos'n, with a line round his waist, crawled carefully ash.o.r.e.

The rope served as a guideline to the rest, and without further mishap the twenty-two survivors of the Gannet made the perilous pa.s.sage, though after three years' knocking about on the high seas it was a sorry homecoming.

The inhuman spectators of our plight had vanished, and not a single being was to be seen. In our wretched and half-starved condition we were nearly exhausted; in fact, many of the seamen dropped on the ground from sheer want of strength.

The bos'n, who was the life and soul of the survivors, then picked out the more active men to explore the locality. The old seaman who had recognized the coast said that two villages were within easy distance--Worth Matravers and Swanage--though a lofty barren line of rugged hills separated us from both of them.

By this time I had recovered sufficiently to look around. We were on a flat ledge some fifty yards in length and about ten broad, thirty feet from the water, and close on a hundred from the top of the cliffs that towered above us. Running back into the cliff were two or three small caves, but there was nothing in them save a few broken barrels and a coil of rope. The ledge itself, though level, was enc.u.mbered by numerous ma.s.sive boulders that had at one time fallen from the beetling cliffs, while to the left ran a path which undoubtedly led to the top of the dizzy heights above us.

All the while the spray dashed over us, while swiftly the irresistible breakers were grinding to pieces the wreck of the ill-fated Gannet.

But there was no time for mournful reveries on the untimely end of our n.o.ble craft and her gallant captain, for already the exploring party had returned with the news that the cliff path had been found, and that a village was not far distant.

The sorry remnant moved forward, those whose strength failed them supported by the arms of their stronger companions.

The path was steep and rugged. After having been so long on board, and being weak in body through the hardships I had undergone, I felt weary and ill before half the ascent was completed; so, while my shipmates proceeded, I was obliged to sit down to recover my breath.

In a few moments I felt better; then, starting to my feet, I hurried after them, half running, half walking up the path.

I had not gone farther than twenty paces when my ankles turned under me, and I fell sideways, crashing into a thick bush.

Vainly endeavouring to save myself, I clutched at the bush, but the ground all around seemed to be flying upwards. The daylight gave way to pitch darkness, and I was falling, falling,...

Then I dimly remember striking on some hard substance, and with that I lost consciousness.

CHAPTER XII.

--The Smugglers' Cave.

How long I remained insensible I cannot say, but with the return of my senses I found myself lying on some warm, soft substance, though what the object was the gloom did not permit me to ascertain.

The darkness was intense, and for some time I imagined it to be night, till the remembrance of my fall gradually dawned upon me. Once I thought I was dead, and pinched my limbs to make sure that I was not. My head throbbed terribly, while my wet clothes struck a chill that was still more striking by reason of the coldness of the hole or cave into which I had fallen.

Then I moved my hands around to try and discover my surroundings. The object on which I was lying was an animal, which, though motionless, was either stunned or recently dead, for its body was still warm.

As far as my arms could reach I could touch nothing else save the floor, which appeared to be of smooth rock. Then I looked upwards, where, far above, a dim light flickered through a hole which was wellnigh covered with brushwood. The light was not sufficient to illuminate the bottom of the pit, the hole being, I imagined, some thirty feet in depth.

Here I was, then, in a kind of natural bottle dungeon or "oubliette", such as I have often seen since, both on the Spanish Main and in our own country. In fact, it can be well likened to the dungeons of the castle at Newark (which was dismantled by the rebels), where a dismal hole some twenty feet below ground is only accessible by a rope ladder dropped through a narrow opening above.

How, then, could I escape? Climbing was an impossibility, so I staggered to my feet and began a round of exploration, carefully shuffling one foot in front of the other for fear of some hidden pitfall, making towards the sound of water trickling from the roof, a sound that seemed a long way off.