Hunting the Skipper Part 3

"And while we sail south we shall be leaving the mouth behind, Mr Anderson, eh?"

"If it proves to be so, sir," replied the first lieutenant gravely, "we must sail north again and again too, until we find the entrance."

"Humph! Yes, sir; but hang it all, are my officers asleep, that we are sailing up and down here month after month without doing anything?

Here, Mr Murray, what are you thinking about, sir?"

The lad started, for his chief had suddenly fired his question at him like a shot.

"Well, sir, why don't you answer my question?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," replied Murray now. "I was thinking."

"Yes, sir, you were thinking," cried the captain pa.s.sionately. "I know you were thinking, and saying to yourself that you had a most unreasonable captain."

Murray was silent, and the first lieutenant and the other midshipman, after exchanging a glance, fixed their eyes upon the monotonous sh.o.r.e.

"Do you hear me, sir?" thundered the captain, as if he were speaking to the lookout at the mast-head instead of the lad close to him. "That was what you were thinking, was it not? Come: the truth."

He bent forward to gaze straight into the boy's eyes as if determined to get an answer.

"Yes, sir," said the lad desperately, "something of that sort;" and then to himself, "Oh, murder! I'm in for it now!"

"Yes, I knew you were, Mr Murray," cried the captain. "Thank you. I like my junior officers to speak out truthfully and well. Makes us place confidence in them, Mr Anderson, eh?"

"Yes, sir," growled the chief officer, "but it isn't always pleasant."

"Quite right, Mr Anderson, and it sounds like confounded impudence, too. But we're wasting time, and it is valuable. I'm going to have that schooner found. The sea's as smooth as an inland lake, so man and lower down the cutters. You take the first cutter, Mr Anderson, Munday the second. Row or sail to north and south as the wind serves, and I'll stand out a bit to see that you don't start the game so that it escapes.

You young gentlemen had better go with the boats."

Murray glanced at the old officer, and to the question in his eyes there came a nod by way of answer.

"You always have the luck, Franky," grumbled Roberts, as soon as they were alone.

"Nonsense! You have as good a chance as I have of finding the schooner."

"What, with prosy old Munday! Why, he'll most likely go to sleep."

"So much the better for you. You can take command of the boat and discover the schooner's hiding-place."

"Of course. Board her, capture the Spanish--"

"Or Yankee," said Murray.

"Captain!" snapped out Roberts. "Oh yes, I know. Bother! I do get so tired of all this."

Tired or no, the young man seemed well on the alert as he stepped into the second cutter, and soon after each of the boats had run up their little sail, for a light breeze was blowing, and, leaving the sloop behind, all the men full of excitement as every eye was fixed upon the long stretches of mangrove north and south in search of the hidden opening which might mean the way into some creek, or perhaps the half-choked-up entrance into one of the muddy rivers of the vast African sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER THREE.

THE CUTE VISITOR.

The first cutter had the wind in her favour and glided northward mile after mile along a sh.o.r.e thickly covered with the peculiar growth of the mangrove, those dense bird-affecting, reptile-haunted coverts, whose sole use seems to be that of keeping the muddy soil of the West Afric sh.o.r.es from being washed away.

The heat was terrible, and the men were congratulating themselves on the fact that the wind held out and saved them from the painful task of rowing hard in the blistering sunshine.

Murray's duty was to handle the tiller lines as he sat in the stern sheets beside the first lieutenant, and after being out close upon three hours he began to feel that he could keep awake no longer--for his companion sat silent and stern, his gaze bent upon the dark green sh.o.r.e, searching vainly for the hidden opening--and in a half torpid state the midshipman was about to turn to his silent companion and ask to be relieved of the lines, when he uttered a gasp of thankfulness, and, forgetting discipline, gripped the officer by the knee.

"What the something, Mr Murray, do you mean by that?" cried the lieutenant angrily.

"Look!" was the reply, accompanied by a hand stretched out with pointing index finger.

"Stand by, my lads, ready to pull for all you know," cried the lieutenant. "The wind may drop at any moment. You, Tom May, take a pull at that sheet; Mr Murray, tighten that port line. That's better; we must cut that lugger off. Did you see where she came out?"

"Not quite, sir," said Murray, as he altered the boat's course a trifle, "but it must have been close hereabouts. What are you going to do, sir?"

"Do, my lad? Why, take her and make the master or whatever he is, act as guide."

"I see, sir. Then you think he must have come out of the river where the schooner has taken refuge?"

"That's what I think," said the lieutenant grimly; "and if I am right I fancy the captain will not be quite so hard upon us as he has been of late."

"It will be a glorious triumph for us--I mean for you, sir," said Murray hurriedly.

"Quite right, Mr Murray," said his companion, smiling. "I can well afford to share the honours with you, for I shall have owed it to your sharp eyes. But there, don't let's talk. We must act and strain every nerve, for I'm doubtful about that lugger; she sails well and may escape us after all."

Murray set his teeth as he steered so as to get every foot of speed possible out of the cutter, while, sheet in hand, Tom May sat eagerly watching the steersman, ready to obey the slightest sign as the boat's crew sat fast with the oars in the rowlocks ready to dip together and pull for all they were worth, should the wind fail.

"That's good, my lads," said the lieutenant--"most seamanlike. It's a pleasure to command such a crew."

There was a low hissing sound as of men drawing their breath hard, and the old officer went on.

"We're not losing ground, Mr Murray," he said.

"No, sir; gaining upon her, I think."

"So do I--think, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant shortly, "but I'm not sure. Ah, she's changing her course," he added excitedly, "and we shall lose her. Oh, these luggers, these luggers! How they can skim over the waves! Here, marines," he said sharply, as he turned to a couple of the rifle-armed men who sat in the stern sheets, "be ready to send a shot through the lugger's foresail if I give the order; the skipper may understand what I mean." And the speaker, sat frowning heavily at the lightly-built lugger they were following. "I don't see what more I can do, Mr Murray."

"No, sir," said the midshipman hoa.r.s.ely. "Oh, give the order, sir--pray do! We mustn't lose that boat."

"Fire!" said the lieutenant sharply; and one marine's rifle cracked, while as the smoke rose lightly in the air Murray uttered a low cry of exultation.

"Right through the foresail, sir, and the skipper knows what we mean."

"Yes, capital! Good shot, marine."

The man's face shone with pleasure as he thrust in a fresh cartridge before ramming it down, and the crew looked as if they were panting to give out a loud cheer at the success of the lieutenant's manoeuvre, for the little lugger, which was just beginning to creep away from them after a change in her course, now obeyed a touch of her helm and bore round into the wind till the big lug sails shivered and she gradually settled down to rock softly upon the long heaving swell that swept in landward.