The Noank's Log Part 24

Moreover, as far away from the _Noank_ as he was, but in a directly opposite line, to windward, at the same time, the English skipper of a fine, bark-rigged merchantman, just out from Porto Rico, felt exceedingly gratified. She was a craft of which Captain Avery had no knowledge whatever up to that moment.

"Hey!" shouted the skipper. "See that? One more of our cruisers close at hand, beside the one away off to looard. I'll send up a light to let 'em know where we are."

Captain Avery had not really asked so much of him, but that was precisely what his unnecessary rocket did.

"Lyme!" exclaimed Sam Prentice, as the shining stars fell out of the flying firework from the bark. "I declare! They told us that feller wouldn't sail for three days yet, and there he is. He's goin' to be our surest take, Captain."

"All right," replied the captain. "Not to-night, though. We'll just foller him along till mornin'. Then we'll put a prize crew into him and send him to New London. We're much obliged to him for callin' on us."

"I guess we're sure of him," said Sam, "but we'd better look out for our sticks and canvas, first."

That was what every vessel in that neighborhood was compelled to do during the gale which began to blow.

"She stands it first-rate," said Guert to Up-na-tan, an hour or so later. "Tell you what, though, I feel a good deal better than I did on sh.o.r.e."

"Boy talk Spanish," replied the Manhattan. "Talk him all while. Learn how. Boy not know much, anyhow."

The red man had all along deemed it his duty to impress upon the mind of his young friend the idea that he was only a beginner, an ignorant kind of sea apprentice with all his troubles before him. After that there followed a watch below, another on deck, and then the morning sun began to do what he could with the flying rack of clouds and spray and mist that was driving along before the gale.

"Vine," asked Guert, "has anything more been seen of that trader!"

"Can't you see?" said Vine. "There she is. We're to wind'ard of her, now. She's answering father's signals, first-rate. We owe all that luck to Luke Watts and his private signal-book."

Nevertheless, the skipper of the bark was even then expressing much perplexity of mind as to what the _Noank_ might be and where from. He did not exactly like her style. It was peculiar, he said, as the morning went on and the gale began to subside, that the seemingly friendly schooner, answering signals so well, should keep the same course with himself, all the while drawing nearer.

"She outsails us," he remarked. "We can't get away from her. I wish the corvette or the frigate were in sight."

Both of them had vanished. They had tacked toward Porto Rico and the officers of the _Tigress_, in particular, were keeping a sharp lookout for the newly arrived British man-of-war that had burned rockets so very promisingly in the night.

"It's all right, Lieutenant," remarked Captain Frobisher. "The gale has carried her along finely. We shall find her in port when we get there."

"I wish we may!" growled the very sharp lieutenant, "but I don't like it. I didn't exactly make out the reading of that second rocket.

Perhaps a lubber sent it up. We'll see."

On went the schooner and the bark without any outside observers. Down sank the tired-out gale, and the sun broke through the clouds.

"Coco!" shouted Captain Avery, at last, "haul down that lobster flag and run up the stars and stripes. Vine, give 'em that forward starboard gun. All hands to quarters! 'Bout ship! Men! she's our prize!"

A ringing sound of cheers answered him, and the report of the gun followed. It was a signal for the Englishman to heave to, and her captain dashed his hat upon the deck.

"Caught!" he groaned. "Taken by the rebels! I wish they were all sunk a hundred fathoms deep."

Loud, angry voices from all parts of his ship responded with similar sentiments relating to American pirates, but there could be no thought of resistance. The bark was hove to, and her flag came down in a hurry as if to avoid all danger of further shotted cannonading.

"Ship ahoy!" came loudly across the water. "What bark's that?"

"Bark _Spencer_, Captain McGrew. Porto Rico for Liverpool. Cargo. No pa.s.sengers. Who are you?"

The answer settled his mind entirely, and in a few minutes more he had a boat's crew of American sailors on board.

"Captain McGrew," said Captain Avery, glancing around, "I'm glad you've no pa.s.sengers. I'll find out, first, how many of your fellers I can leave on board with my prize crew, to handle her to New London. Some'd ruther work ship than be crammed under hatches."

The British sailors exchanged nods and glances, and their skipper responded:--

"All right! We're a prize, no doubt. We're insured, so far's that goes. 'Tisn't so bad for the owners. But you'd better tally four chaps that hid in the hold to keep from being 'pressed into the _Tigress_. They're not deserters, you know, but they'd as lief keep away from havin' to answer questions."

Four stalwart British tars at once stepped forward, and not one of them "peached" to McGrew that their names were already on the rolls of the frigate, so that they were much more than halfway deserters.

"Humph!" said Captain Avery, "I guess I can trust 'em. It saves me four hands. I'll pick out four more. Captain McGrew, you and the rest may come on board the schooner. I'll give you a free pa.s.sage to France. Treat ye well, too. Hand over your papers. Sam Prentice, this is your trip home."

"All right!" almost roared Sam. "I'll carry her safe in. She and her cargo'll bring us a pile o' shiners. Lyme, she's our first West Injy luck!"

"Hurry up, Sam!" said the captain. "Then I'll try for that feller ahead that led us from Porto Rico. She's along the track, somewhere."

CHAPTER XIII

THE BERMUDA TRADER

There is a great deal of the humdrum and monotonous in the day after day life and work upon a ship at sea. Even if the ship is a cruiser and if there is a continuous watching for and study of all the other sails that appear, that too may grow dull and tiresome.

There were many days of such unprofitable watching from the outlooks of the _Noank_, after her first unexpected good fortune. She had somehow failed to overtake that sought-for Porto Rico merchantman. The gale had favored an escape, and so had the delay occasioned by the pursuit and capture of the _Spencer_. Since then, carrying all the sail the varying winds would let him, Captain Avery had sailed persistently on, hoping for that prize or for another as good. There had been topsails reported, from time to time, between him and the horizon, and from two, at least, of those, he had cautiously sheered away, not liking their very excellent "cut." There might be tiers of dangerous guns away down below them and he did not want any more guns,--heavy ones.

"I said," he remarked, a little dolefully, "that I'd foller that sugar-boat all the way to Liverpool, and I've only 'bout half done it.

I'm goin' ahead. There's no use in tryin' back toward Cuba, now.

We'll take a look at the British coast, pretty soon; France, too, and Ireland, maybe Holland. We'll see what's to be had in the channels."

Everybody on board was likely to be satisfied with that decision, especially the British prisoners from the _Spencer_. As for these, the sailor part of them were already on very good terms with their captors, not caring very much how or in what kind of craft they were to find their way back to England. They were a happy-go-lucky lot of foremastmen with strong prejudices, of course, against all Yankee rebels, but with thoroughly seamanlike ideas that they had no right to be sulky over the ordinary chances of war. They had not really lost much, and their main cause of complaint was their very narrow quarters on board the _Noank_. They had not the least idea that a change in this respect was only a little ahead of them, but a great improvement was coming.

Day had followed day, and the ocean seemed to be in a manner deserted.

A feeling of disappointment seemed to be growing in the mind of Captain Avery, and he had half forgotten how very good a prize the _Spencer_ had been.

"This 'ere is dreadful!" he declared. "I'm afraid we're not goin' to make a dollar. What few sails we've sighted have all been Dutch or French. I want a look at the red-cross flag again."

"Well, yes," thought Guert, "but I guess he doesn't want to see it on a man-o'-war. I feel a good deal as he does, though. I'll get Vine to lend me a gla.s.s. I've hardly had a chance to play lookout."

Vine let him have the telescope, of course, but Up-na-tan and Coco came at once to see what he would do with it. He pulled it out to its length and began to peer across the surrounding ocean.

"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Boy fool! No stay on deck. Go up mast.

Maintop. Then mebbe see something. No good eye!"

"Git up aloft, Guert!" added Coco. "Never mine ole redskin. Think he go bline, pretty soon. Can't see lobster ship."

That may have referred to the fact that they had served as lookouts, that morning, until they were weary of it, and Up-na-tan had lost his temper. They grinned discontentedly as they saw their young friend go aloft. He had now become well accustomed to high perches, and was beginning to regard himself as an experienced sailor for that kind of small cruiser. He felt very much at home in the maintop, and even Captain Avery glanced up at him approvingly.

"He must learn how," he remarked, as he saw Guert square himself in his narrow coop and adjust the telescope.