Read The Black Buccaneer Page 5


  CHAPTER V

  The events of that night made a terribly clear impression on the mind ofthe young New Englander. Years afterward he would wake with a shiver,imagining that the relentless hand of the pirate captain was againdragging him toward an unknown fate. It must have been the darkness andthe sudden unexpectedness of it all that frightened him, for as soon asthey came down the rocks into the flaring firelight he was able tocontrol himself once more. The wild carouse was still in progress amongthe crew. Fierce faces, with unkempt beards and cruel lips, leered redlyfrom above hairy, naked chests. Eyes, lit from within by liquor and fromwithout by the dancing flames, gleamed below black brows. Many of themen wore earrings and metal bands about the knots of their pig-tails,while silver pistol-butts flashed everywhere.

  As the Captain strode into the center of this group, the swinging chorusfell away to a single drunken voice which kept on uncertainly frombehind the rum-barrel.

  "Silence!" said the Captain sharply. The voice dwindled and ceased. Allwas quiet about the fire. "Men," went on Jeremy's captor, "clear heads,all, for this is no time for drinking. We have found this boy upon thehill, who tells of a fleet of armed ships not above a league from here.We must set sail within an hour and be out of reach before dawn. Everyman now take a water-keg and follow me. You, Job Howland, keep the boyand the watch here on the beach."

  Fresh commotion broke out as he finished. "Ay, ay, Captain Bonnet!" camein a broken chorus, as the crew, partially sobered by the words, hurriedto the long-boat, where a line of small kegs lay in the sand. A momentlater they were gone, plowing up the hillside. Jeremy stood where he hadbeen left. A tall, slack-jointed pirate in the most picturesque attirestrolled over to the boy's side and looked him up and down with aroguish grin. Under his cloak Jeremy had on fringed leather breeches andtunic such as most of the northern colonists wore. The pirate, seeingthe rough moccasins and deerskin trousers, burst into a roar. "Ho, ho,young woodcock, and how do ye like the company of Major Stede Bonnet'srovers?"

  "Ho, ho, young woodcock, and how do ye like the companyof Stede Bonnet's rovers?"]

  The lad said nothing, shut his jaw hard and looked the big buccaneersquarely in the face. There was no fear in his expression. The mannodded and chuckled approvingly. "That's pluck, boy, that's pluck," saidhe. "We'll clip the young cock's shank-feathers, and maybe make apirate of him yet." He stooped over to feel the buckskin fringe onJeremy's leg. The boy's hand went into his shirt like a flash. He hadpulled out the pistol and cocked it, when he felt both legs snatchedfrom under him.

  His head hit the ground hard and he lay dazed for a second or two. Whenhe regained his senses, Job Howland stood astride of him coolly tuckingthe pistol into his own waist-band. "Ay," said Job, "ye'll be a finebuccaneer, only ye should have struck with the butt. I heard the click."The pirate seemed to hold no grudge for what had occurred and sat downbeside Jeremy in a friendly fashion.

  "Free tradin' ain't what it was," he confided. "When Billy Kidd clearedfor the southern seas twenty years agone, they say he had papers fromthe king himself, and no man-of-war dared come anigh him." He sworegently and reminiscently as he went on to detail the recent severitiesof the Massachusetts government and the insecurity of buccaneers aboutthe Virginia capes. "They do say, tho', as Cap'n Edward Teach, that theycall Blackbeard, is plumb thick with all the magistrates and planters inCarolina, an' sails the seas as safe as if he had a fleet of twentyships," said Job. "We sailed along with him for a spell last year, buthim an' the old man couldn't make shift to agree. Ye see thisBlackbeard is so used to havin' his own way he wanted to run StedeBonnet, too. That made Stede boilin', but we was undermanned just thenand had to bide our time to cut loose.

  "Cap'n Bonnet, ye see, is short on seamanship but long in his sword arm.Don't ye never anger him. He's terrible to watch when he's raised. DaveHerriot sails the ship mostly, but when we sight a big merchantman withmaybe a long nine or two aboard, then's when Stede Bonnet comes on deck.That Frenchman we sunk tonight, blast her bloody spars"--here the lankpirate interrupted himself to curse his luck, and continued--"probablyloaded with sugar and Jamaica rum from Martinique and headed up for theFrench provinces. Well, we'll never know--that's sure!" He paused, bitoff the end of a rope of black tobacco and meditatively surveyed theboy. "I'm from New England myself," said he after a time. "Sailed honestout of Providence Port when I was a bit bigger nor you. Then when I wasgrowed and an able seaman on a Virginia bark in the African trade, alongcomes Cap'n Ben Hornygold, the great rover of those days and picks usup. Twelve of the likeliest he takes on his ship, the rest he maroonssomewhere south of the Cubas, and sends our bark into Charles Town undera prize crew. So I took to buccaneering, and I must own I've alwaysfound it a fine occupation--not to say that it's made me rich--maybe itmight if I'd kept all my sharin's."

  Job Howland]

  This life-history, delivered almost in one breath, had caused Howland animmense amount of trouble with his quid of tobacco, which nearly chokedhim as he finished. Except for the sound of his vast expectorations, thepair on the beach were quiet for what seemed to Jeremy a long while.Then on the rocks above was heard the clatter of shoes and the bumpingof kegs. Job rose, grasping the hand of his charge, and they went tomeet the returning sailors.

  To the young woodsman, utterly unused to the ways of the sea, the nexthalf-hour was a bewildering melee of hurrying, sweating toil, withlow-spoken orders and half-caught oaths and the glimmer of a dying fireover all the scene. He was rowed to the sloop with the first boatloadand there Job Howland set him to work passing water-kegs into the hold.He had had no rest in over twenty hours and his whole body ached as thelast barrel bumped through the hatch. All the crew were aboard and aknot of swaying bodies turned the windlass to the rhythm of a mutteredchanty. The chain creaked and rattled over the bits till the drippinganchor came out of water and was swung inboard. The mainsail andforesail went up with a bang, as a dozen stalwart pirates manned thehalyards.

  Dave Herriot stood at the helm, abaft the cabin companion, and his bullvoice roared the orders as he swung her head over and the breezesteadied in the tall sails.

  "Look alive there, mates!" he bellowed. "Stand by now to set the mainjib!" Like most of the pirate sloops-of-war, Stede Bonnet's _Revenge_was schooner-rigged. She carried fore and main top-sails of the old,square style, and her long main boom and immense spread of jib gave hera tremendous sail area for her tonnage. The breeze had held steadilysince sundown and was, if anything, rising a little. Short seas slappedand gurgled at the forefoot with a pleasant sound. Jeremy, desperatelytired, had dropped by the mast, scarcely caring what happened to him.The sloop slid out past the dark headlands, and heeled to leeward with asatisfied grunt of her cordage that came gently to the boy's ears. Hishead sank to the deck and he slept dreamlessly.