"Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dewFrom the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue."
"Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dewFrom the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue."
"Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dewFrom the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue."
"Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,
Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew
From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue."
Some of these visionary vessels were very distinctly seen, with men on their decks and flags flying, but, as the apparitions were colorless, of course, the character of the airy flags could not be determined. We were almost becalmed while we were the witnesses of this strange phenomenon, and we had an hour or so to observe it in. But, as the night began to fall, an easterly gale sprung up, and, in a few moments, our "airy navies" vanished away.
We arrived at Acapulco, after a prosperous voyage of only a few days' duration, and remained there two days.
Acapulco was much then as it is now. It is a very solidly-built place, resembling Panama in this, and is possessed of more than one handsome ecclesiastical building. The bay of Acapulco is one of the finest in the world—by farthefinest in America. It is well sheltered, is capacious, deep and excellent in every respect. The region around Acapulco equals any in Mexico in point of fertility. Almost every tropical fruit flourishes profusely, and most of us were down somewhat with dysentery, through indulging too freely.
Our ship was surrounded most of the time while in port by natives, most of them children, who almost live in the water. Probably no people in the world—except, perhaps, the nativesof the South Sea Islands—are so much at home in the water as these Mexicans of the Southwest Coast. They would swim and dance in the water around us by the hour, begging to have some one toss a shilling to them. I have repeatedly tossed a small silver coin overboard into the sea, when one of these children of the waters would dive like a fish, catch the coveted coin before it reached a depth of many fathoms, return to the surface, display it triumphantly, and then put it in his mouth for safe-keeping and clamor for some one to try him again with a similar bribe.
The people are very ignorant, contented and happy. They have few or no cares to distract their attention. Their wherewithal of subsistance grows on the trees above their heads; and for clothing—they wear so little that it can hardly be taken into account as an item of expense.
We intended to sail from Acapulco on a certain day in the latter part of January, but a severe storm sprung up in the afternoon which made it much more prudent to lie for a while longer under the shelter of the excellent harborage in which we were. Nevertheless all hands were got aboard ship and everything put in readiness for a start on the morrow, wind and weather permitting.
It was on this evening, when a number of us were merrily gathered round our table in the forecastle discussing our grog and pipes, that old Bluefish, upon earnest solicitation, spun us one of his exceedingly improbable yarns.
Clearing his throat with a long pull at his glass of rum, and lighting a fresh pipe, he commenced his yarn of
The Phantom Ship.
"P'r'aps most on yer," said he, "has hearn tell on the Phantom Ship, but I'll bet my old boots ag'in' a new tarpaulin and westcut that none on yer ever was aboard o' that craft, as my mother's son was, in the person of myself. Howsomedever that is neither this way nor that, for I must pick up the eend of my yarn at a shorter beginning.
"It happened all along o' the schooner Jolly Admiral. I was a cabin-boy on her. We had been to Hong Kong for a load o' tea and was somewhar atwixt Bombay and the Cape of Good Hope on a bright moonlight night in the month of June when we first see'd the Phantom Ship. We didn't know her true character until we came within a quarter of a mile of her and saw her flimsy, threadbare canvas and the devil's blue-lights burning on her bowsprit and after-jib. We could see the captain and the crew going about on her in a ghostly sort of way. They all looked very melancholy and didn't pay any attention to us whatsoever.
"We could hear their voices, too, and jist let me tell yer, if you had heard them 'ere voices you wouldn't want to do it ag'in in a hurry. Well, all of a sudden, although there warn't no breeze to speak of, the sails of the Phantom Ship bellied out, and away she scudded to the southward like a streak of blue thunder stuffed with lightning, leaving us jist nowhars at all.
"We was somewhat taken aback, but not so much surprised nuther, for, yer see, we had been made acquainted with the fact that them 'ere seas was particularly haunted by the devil's craft, and we was, therefore, sort of prepared for meeting her. But somehow, as soon as the critters faded away from our sight I jist whispers to myself, 'If ever I gits the chance I'm going to board that 'ere craft, or I ain't a Bluefish, but only a blarsted mackerel.'
"It warn't long afore I had the chance. Only two nights arter the one aforesaid, the sea was swept by one of them 'ere orful hurricanes or simooms as is nat'ral to them parts. Although we was pretty well prepared to meet it, the darned thing struck us so suddenly that we was almost throwed on our beam-eends. The night grew as black as pitch. You couldn't 'a'see'd your hand afore your face if you was as white as a snowdrift. I never see'd, afore or since, sich orful waves. You'd go down inter the hollers of 'em and think you'd never come up ag'in. And the wind—well, it's no use tryin' to describe one o' them 'ere simooms. Suffice ter say that it lifted us clean out of the sea more than once, and sometimes carried us, like a Mother Carey's chicken, for a mile or two over the waves, without our keel touchin' a single crest."
"Is this story true?" I here interposed, with a solemn voice, quite aghast at the imagination of the old salt.
"In course it is, yer lubberly son of a sea-cook! Does yer suppose a cove as old as I be would tell yer anything as wasn't right-down genuine?
"As I was a-sayin', the force of the wind was orful. Howsomdever, we had as jolly a little craft as ever cut blue water, and we weathered it bravely. Sometimes, when the wind would sort of sink away a little, we would drive right through the big waves, until even our main-tops were all under water; but, as our hatches were clewed down and our deck was pretty tight, we allers came out of our bath as fresh as ever. Then the gale would start up again, and away we would go over the tops of the waves.
"It was on one of these occasions that our lookout sung out, 'Lights on the starboard bow!' In course, we was all curious enough at first; but, jist as we rose up on a big crest, what should we see but the Phantom Ship, holdin' right across our course, and we jist ready to run inter her larboard bulwarks with the next pitch we made. She had all her blue lights burnin', and there was a sort of yaller haze all around her. Notwithstandin' we was under bare poles, and found it hard work to keep from bein' blown skywards at that, the stranger had every stitch of canvas spread, and didn't seem to suffer anywise nuther. We hadn't time to make many observations, howsomdever, before we struck the cussed thing right in her side, and began to shoot through her, jist as if she was made of smoke. I was standin' in the bows of the Jolly Admiral at the time. 'Now or never!' I sings out to myself; and, simultaneous, I made a jump and caught the ratlin's of the stranger, while the Jolly Admiral passed on her way and left me swingin' like a pendulum in the air.
"I fell down on the deck of the stranger, but immejiately resumed my legs and took a survey of things in gineral. All the crew moped about the deck, attendin' to their duties, while the captain bellered out his orders through a trumpet made of condensed wind, lined with p'izen and streaks of lightning.
"At first none on 'em paid any attention to me. But at last the first mate—an orful-lookin' cuss—came right up to me, grabbed me by the gullet, and dragged me to the quarter-deck, and stood me up afore the skipper of the Phantom Ship.
"'Here, Cap,' says he, 'is a little cuss of a cabin-boy, as was left behind by that infernal craft as jist ran through us.'
"(I forgot to mention as how the hole, which the Jolly Admiral made in passin' through the stranger, healed itself up ag'in in the most supernatural way in the world.)
"Well, the phantom skipper looked at me a moment without sayin' a word, even so much as a civil 'How d'ye do?' He was the orfulest-lookin' cuss it was ever my fortin' to stumble across. His flippers were those of a skeleton, and his head was a reg'lar death's head, with eyes as burned like two coals of fire, while a pair o' cross bones was suspended across his bosom. I suppose they was some sort o' medals given the cuss on account o' meritorious conduct. At length the critter spoke to me, an' his voice was orful strange. You could hear it very distinctly, but it sort o' seemed to come from a long ways off, jist like the voice of a speerit.
"'What's the name o' that 'ere ship what jist ran through us?' says he, in a melancholy way.
"'Please yer Honor,' says I, respectfully touchin' my cap, 'it warn't a ship, but a schooner—the Jolly Admiral of New Bedford.'
"'Ha, boy,' says he, 'dostest thou dare to banter me with thy jokes. Howsomdever, what's your name?'
"'Bluefish,' says I.
"'The son of old Sol Bluefish of Nantucket, the man as was hanged?' says he.
"'The same,' says I.
"'Ha! is it indeed so?' he ejaculated, leanin' his chin on his breast, in a meditatin' mood. 'He was a nice man,' he added; 'he was also a particular friend o' mine.'
"'Allow me to take your flipper,' says I, puttin' on a free-and-easy air. 'It allers gives me a vast amount of pleasure to meet any one as was on good terms with the old man.'
"With that, I grabbed him by the bony hand, but immediately let the thing drop like a piece of a thunderbolt, for it burned like a coal of fire. He contemplated me with an affectionate smile.
"'Yes,' said he, 'I knowed the old man well. And how's your mother? Do you know,' says he, 'I came mighty near marryin' that gal once myself?'
"'God forbid!' says I, with a unconscious shudder.
"When I said these 'ere words, the skipper's knees trembled, and he almost fainted away.
"'Young man,' says he, slowly recoverin' himself, 'be very careful how you utters the name o' that individual on this 'ere ship, or we'll all be knocked into the middle of kingdom come. Tell me,' says he, 'what was your object in boardin' this 'ere craft?'
"'I was jist sort o' curious ter see about the state of yer health,' says I. 'And now, if its all the same to you, suppose you put me ashore.'
"'Thou hastest thy wish, my son,' says he, in a kindly voice. And with that he taps me gently over the head with that 'ere trumpet of his, and I immediately sunk inter a deep state of non-sensibility.
"When I woke, I found myself sleeping quietly in my hammock on board the Jolly Admiral, and when I tells my story, all on 'em laughs at me, and even denies that there was any Phantom Ship at all.
"But, in course, that didn't make no difference to me, since it was all true."
"It was a dream," suggested Tony Trybrace.
"Certainly," said I.
"Avast, yer lubbers! Doesn't I know as what I knows?"
And with this conclusive argument, Bluefish "turned in."
The next day, the tempest having abated, and everything being snug on board the Queer Fish, we weighed anchor, took the northeasterly trades on our top-gallants, and started on our return round the Cape.
Every one was exceedingly jolly, as is usually the case on board a vessel homeward bound, after a long and prosperous voyage.
Very little occurred worth recording. We didn't meet with a single prize on our way to the Cape, but had another merry time with our Patagonian friends.
On the voyage up, on the Atlantic side, however, we captured four more prizes, one of them a very large and valuable ship, loaded down almost to the gunwales with coffee and spices.
When off the Bahama Banks, we were chased by a fast-sailing British war-vessel, and had our mizzen-top knocked off by her bow-chasers. But we successfully returned the compliment with our swivel, and, as nothing could overhaul the Queer Fish before a stiff breeze, succeeded in making our escape.
We arrived at Boston in the early part of March, after one of the most memorably successful voyages on record. Our prizes numbered thirty-six in all, and, of these, all but one safely reached American seaports.
So, with our pockets stuffed with prize-money, you may guess that we had a jolly time. My yarn is over, and you will hear no more at present from The Boy Privateer.
THE END.
FOOTNOTE:[1]Matadoreis a name applied generally to the men who attack the bull, either on horse or on foot; but the distinctive and legitimate meaning of the term applies to those footmen who carry swords and whose office is especially that of thecoup de grace.
[1]Matadoreis a name applied generally to the men who attack the bull, either on horse or on foot; but the distinctive and legitimate meaning of the term applies to those footmen who carry swords and whose office is especially that of thecoup de grace.
[1]Matadoreis a name applied generally to the men who attack the bull, either on horse or on foot; but the distinctive and legitimate meaning of the term applies to those footmen who carry swords and whose office is especially that of thecoup de grace.
BY T. J. FLANAGAN.
925 The Young Cowboy Captain.933 The Two Midshipmen; or, The Corsair-Chaser's First Cruise.949 The Three Lieutenants.959 The Mascot Middy; or, The Four Commanders.966 Fighting Jack Shubrick.972 Fighting Jack's Middies; or, Dandy Dick's Dash.999 Jack Lung, the Privateer Rover.
925 The Young Cowboy Captain.
933 The Two Midshipmen; or, The Corsair-Chaser's First Cruise.
949 The Three Lieutenants.
959 The Mascot Middy; or, The Four Commanders.
966 Fighting Jack Shubrick.
972 Fighting Jack's Middies; or, Dandy Dick's Dash.
999 Jack Lung, the Privateer Rover.
NEW ISSUES.
1016 The Boy Bugler in Cuba; or, The Cowboy Clan On Deck. By Col. P. Ingraham.1017 Detective Matt's Man-Hunt; or, Downing the Desperate Dozen. By Ned St. Meyer.1018 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Big Four.By E. L. Wheeler.1019 Burd Bayard's Close Call.By Capt. Hawthorne.1020 Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer. By H. Johnstone.1021 Doctor Paul, Detective.By Leon Lewis.1022 Dean Dangerfields's Desperate Game.By Maj. Dangerfield Burr.
1016 The Boy Bugler in Cuba; or, The Cowboy Clan On Deck. By Col. P. Ingraham.
1017 Detective Matt's Man-Hunt; or, Downing the Desperate Dozen. By Ned St. Meyer.
1018 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Big Four.By E. L. Wheeler.
1019 Burd Bayard's Close Call.By Capt. Hawthorne.
1020 Barney Blake, the Boy Privateer. By H. Johnstone.
1021 Doctor Paul, Detective.By Leon Lewis.
1022 Dean Dangerfields's Desperate Game.By Maj. Dangerfield Burr.
JUST ISSUED.
1010 Kit Bandy's Big Six; or, The Rustlers of Jackson Basin. By Oll Coomes.1011 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Dutch Pard; or, Rooting Out the Rascals of Skeleton Gorge. By E. L. Wheeler.1012 The Cripple's Dead-Sure Clinch; or, Trapping the Old Fraud. By Charles Morris.1013 Buffalo Bill's Texas Team.By Col. P. Ingraham.1014 Middy Ned, the Runaway; or, Hairbreadth Escapes Afloat and Ashore. By T. J. Flanagan.1015 The Reporter-Detective's Big Pull.By Wm. P. Brown.A New Issue Every Tuesday.The Half-Dime Libraryis for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each.BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,92 William Street, New York.
1010 Kit Bandy's Big Six; or, The Rustlers of Jackson Basin. By Oll Coomes.
1011 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Dutch Pard; or, Rooting Out the Rascals of Skeleton Gorge. By E. L. Wheeler.
1012 The Cripple's Dead-Sure Clinch; or, Trapping the Old Fraud. By Charles Morris.
1013 Buffalo Bill's Texas Team.By Col. P. Ingraham.
1014 Middy Ned, the Runaway; or, Hairbreadth Escapes Afloat and Ashore. By T. J. Flanagan.
1015 The Reporter-Detective's Big Pull.By Wm. P. Brown.
A New Issue Every Tuesday.
The Half-Dime Libraryis for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,92 William Street, New York.