"An' when my precious leg was lopt,Just for a bit of funI picks it up, on t'other hopt,An' rammed it in a gun.'What's that for?' cries out Ginger Dick,'What for? my jumpin' beau?Why, to give the lubbers one more kick,'Yo, ho, with the rum below!"
THE ship's boat was bound into the bay, probably to lie there for daybreak, and Jack Cockrell rushed down to the beach where he set up such a frantic hullabaloo that the sailors ceased singing and held their breath and their oars suspended. They had come to look for Bill Saxby and Trimble Rogers, but this was a strange voice. It was so odd a circumstance that several of them hailed the shore with questions loud and perplexed.
"Master John Cockrell, at your service," came back the reply. "Captain Bonnet knows me. I am the lad that clouted a six-foot pirate of yours for being saucy to a maid in Charles Town."
This aroused a roar of laughter and there were gusty shouts of:
"Here's that same Will Brant in the boat with us. He shakes in his boots at the sound of ye."
"What's the game, lad? Have ye taken a ship of your own to scour the Main?"
Jack ignored this good-natured badinage and, in dignified accents, told them to come ashore and take him off to theRoyal James. In this company he had a reputation to live up to as a man of parts and valor. They let the boat ground on the smooth sand and one of them lighted a torch of pitch-pine splinters. The fine young gentleman who had strolled arm-in-arm with Stede Bonnet to the tavern green was a ragged scarecrow and bedaubed with red clay and black mud. This aroused their sympathy before he told them of his escape from theRevengeand his adventures with Bill Saxby and the crippled buccaneer. In their turn they explained how Captain Bonnet had sent them down the river to await the return of the two men who were now stranded in the wilderness two days' march distant.
"And why did your captain shift the brig from her anchorage off the island?" asked Jack.
This amused the boat's crew who nudged each other and were evasive until the master's mate who was in charge went far enough to say:
"A sloop came in from the Pamlico River. Our ship sought a snugger harbor, d'ye see? There was some private business. We loaded the sloop with hogshead of sugar, and bolts of damask, and silver ingots. His Excellency, Governor Eden, of the North Carolina Province, turns an honest penny now and then."
"The Governor of this Province is a partner in piracy?" cried Jack.
"Brawl it not so loud, nor spill it to Cap'n Bonnet,"cautioned the master's mate. "I confide this much to stave off your foolish questions when ye board the ship."
There was no reason to tarry in the bay and the boat pulled out to follow the course of the river and return in haste to the brigRoyal Jamesin her more secluded harbor. The news that Blackbeard was at his old rendezvous within easy sail to the southward eclipsed all other topics. And when it was learned that he had lost the two sloops of his squadron, there was fierce delight. Although theRevengewas a larger vessel and more heavily manned and gunned, they were hilariously confident of victory. It was a burning grudge and a private quarrel, and fuel was added to the flame by the tidings that a score or more of seamen had been mercilessly marooned to perish because of their suspected preference for Captain Stede Bonnet.
When Jack Cockrell caught sight of the shapely brig as she loomed in the morning haze, it seemed as though years had passed since he had enviously watched her pass out over the Charles Town bar. Presently he spied the soldierly captain on the quarter-deck, his spare figure all taut and erect, his chin clean-shaven, his queue powdered, his apparel fresh and in good taste. A ship is like her master and the watch was sluicing down decks or setting up the rigging which had slackened with the heavy dew. Jack felt ashamed to let himself be seen. This was no place for a ragamuffin.
Captain Bonnet strode to the gangway and stareddown at this bit of human flotsam. He was quick to recognize his boyish friend and admirer and ordered the men to lower a boatswain's chair and lift Master Cockrell aboard. Jack was, indeed, so stiffened and sore and weary that he had been wondering how he could climb the side of a ship.
"Tut, tut, my son, bide your time," exclaimed Stede Bonnet as they met on deck. "Tell it later. The master's mate will enlighten me."
He led the way into the cabin which was in order and simply furnished. One servant brewed fragrant coffee from Arabia while another made a room ready for the guest and fetched clean clothing from the captain's chests and a tub of hot water. And as soon as the grateful Master Cockrell had made himself presentable, he was invited to sit down at table with the captain and enjoy a meal of porridge and crisp English bacon and fresh eggs from the ship's hen-coop in the long-boat and hot crumpets and marmalade. And this after the pinched ration of mouldy salt-horse and wormy hard-bread! Captain Bonnet lighted a roll of tobacco leaves, which he called acigarro, and puffed clouds of smoke while Master Cockrell cleaned every dish and lamented that his skin felt too tight to begin all over again.
He was now in a mood to relate his strange yarn, from its outset in the ill-fated merchant trader,Plymouth Adventure. Eagerly he begged information concerning her people after their shipwreck, but Captain Bonnethad been cruising far offshore to intercept a convoy of rich West Indiamen from Jamaica for the old country.
"I will make it my duty to set you ashore at Charles Town, Master Jack," said he, "and I pray you may find your good uncle alive and still vowing to hang all rogues of pirates."
"But I must sail with you, sir, till you have saved Joe Hawkridge and his shipmates and blown Blackbeard out of water."
"Rest easy on that," exclaimed Stede Bonnet. "Those affairs are most urgent. My ship will drop down the river to-day, with the turn o' the tide, and heave to long enough to land a party, six men, to go in search of Trimble Rogers who is the apple of my eye. I shall not ask you to join them, but you can give directions and pen a fair map, I trow."
"Gladly would I go," replied Jack, "but my poor legs wobble like your valiant old buccaneer's. And my feet are raw."
"You have proved yourself," was the fine compliment. "I judged ye aright when we first met."
Soon the deck above them resounded to the tramp of boots and the thump of sheet-blocks as the brisk seamen made ready to cast the ship free. She was in competent hands and so Stede Bonnet lingered below to enjoy talking with the youth whose manners and breeding were like his own. In a mood unusually confidential he confirmed Jack's earlier impressions, that he was a pirate with a certain code of honor which reminded one of Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest who robbed the rich and befriended the poor. Touching on his mortal quarrel with Blackbeard, he revealed how that traitorous ruffian had proposed a partnership while he, Stede Bonnet, was a novice at the trade. The plot all hatched to take Bonnet's fine ship, theRevenge, from him, Blackbeard had disclosed his hand at the final conference when he said, with a sarcastic grimace:
"I see, my good sir, that you are not used to the cares and duties of commanding a vessel, so I will relieve you of 'em."
As soon as Captain Bonnet had mended his fortunes and had the goodly brigRoyal Jamesto cruise in, his ruling purpose was to regain theRevengefrom Blackbeard and at the same time wreak a proper punishment.
"So now if we can trap this black-hearted Teach before he flits to sea," said Stede Bonnet, "you will see a pretty engagement, Master Cockrell. But first we must find the score o' men that he marooned. It will be a deed of mercy, besides affording me a stronger crew."
The brig was soon standing down the river while the landing party broke out an ample store of provisions and powder and ball, with canvas for a tent. The plan was for them to pitch a camp near the shore of the bay to which they could fetch back Trimble Rogers and Bill Saxby and there wait for their ship to return and take them off. They were ready to go ashore when CaptainBonnet's navigator ordered the main-topsail laid aback and the brig slowly swung into the wind. The delay was brief and no sooner was the boat cast off than theRoyal Jamesproceeded on the voyage to Cherokee Inlet.
Clumsy as those sailing ships of two hundred years ago appear to modern eyes, their lines were finely moulded under water and with a favoring wind they could log a fair distance in a day's run. It goes without saying that this tall brig was shoved along for all she was worth before a humming breeze that made her creak, and during the night she was reckoned to be a few miles to seaward of the sandy islands which extended like a barrier outside of Cherokee Inlet. Jack Cockrell stood a watch of his own, dead weary but with no thought of sleep until he could hear the lookout shout "Land ho!"
This cry came from aloft soon after dawn. The brig moved toward the nearest of these exposed shoals while her officers consulted a chart spread upon the cabin roof. They were wary of running the ship aground with Blackbeard no more than a few miles distant. So bare were these yellow patches of sand that showed against the green water that a group of men on any one of them would have been easily discernible. TheRoyal Jamescoasted along outside of them under shortened sail but discovered nothing to indicate a party of marooned seamen.
"But they must be out here somewhere," cried Jack Cockrell, in great distress.
"They ought to be, for no trading vessel would take 'em off," replied the puzzled Captain Bonnet. "And if they were towed out in boats as ye say, Jack, these islands must ha' been where they were beached."
"But you won't give up the search, sir, without another tack past those outermost shoals?"
"Oh, we shall rake them all, but Blackbeard may have changed that crotchety mind of his and taken the men back to his ship."
"I fear I have seen the last of my dear Joe Hawkridge," exclaimed Jack.
"From what you tell me, the young scamp is not so easily disposed of," smiled Captain Bonnet. "I must haul out to sea ere long. 'Tis poor business to let Blackbeard glimpse my spars and so take warning."
This was sad news and Jack walked away to hide his quivering lip. To examine the islands again was a forlorn hope because already it seemed certain that nothing alive moved on any of them. The brig passed them closer than before as she made a long reach before turning out to sea. It was the intention to sail in to engage Blackbeard very early the next morning and meanwhile he would be vigilantly blockaded.
Even Jack Cockrell, hopeful to the last, was compelled to agree with the crew of the brig that not a solitary man could be seen on these sea-girt cays and itseemed useless to send off a boat to explore them one by one. There would have been some stir or signal, even if men were too weak to stand. The air was clear and from the brig's masts it was possible to sweep every foot of sandy surface. Here was another mystery of the sea. It occurred to Stede Bonnet to ask:
"You took it for granted they were marooned, Jack, when the boats passed from your sight and you were hidden in the tree in the swamp. What if a quicker death were dealt 'em?"
"That may be, sir."
The brig was leaving the coast astern. Jack moped by himself until his curiosity was drawn to a group of seamen upon the forecastle head who were talking loudly and pointing at something in the water, well ahead of the ship. One vowed it was a big sea-turtle asleep, another was willing to wager his silver-mounted pistols that it was a rum barrel, while a third announced that he'd stake his head on its being a mermaid or her husband. The after-deck brought a spy-glass to bear and perceived that the thing was splashing about. The tiller was shifted to bring it close aboard and soon Captain Bonnet exclaimed that it was, indeed, a merman a-cruising with a cask!
Jack Cockrell scampered to the heel of the bowsprit to investigate this ocean prodigy. And as the cask drifted nearer he saw that Joe Hawkridge was clingingto it. There was no mistaking that dauntless grin and the mop of carroty hair. A handy seaman tossed a bight of line over his shoulders as he bobbed past the forefoot of the brig and he was yanked bodily over the bulwark like a strange species of fish. Flopping on deck he waved a skinny arm in greeting and then Jack Cockrell rushed at him, lifted him bodily, and dragged him to the cabin.
"What ho, comrade!" said the dripping merman. "Blast my eyes, but I was sick with worry for you. I left you in that swamp——"
"And I thought you dead, Joe. For the love o' heaven, tell me how you fared and what——"
Captain Bonnet interfered to say:
"I treated you more courteously than this, Jack. Let us make him comfortable."
Accepting the rebuke, Jack bustled his amazing friend into a change of clothes and saw that he was well fed. Little the worse for his watery pilgrimage, Joe Hawkridge explained at his leisure:
"Ned Rackham took the others away in the snow, as I tell ye, Cap'n Bonnet, and there was I in the doleful dumps. Prayers get answered and miracles do happen, for next day there come a-floatin' to the beach a cask full of grub and water. Good Peter Tobey, the carpenter's mate, had a hand in launchin' it, no doubt, but the Lord hisself steered the blessed cask. Well, while I set a-giving thanks and thinkin' one thing an' another,I figgered that when I'd ate all the grub and swigged the water, I was no further along."
"And so you thought you would trust the Lord again," suggested Captain Bonnet.
"Aye, sir, that was it. By watchin' the tides I reckoned I might drift to another island and so work to the coast, taking my provisions with me. There was some small line in the cask that Peter Tobey had wrapped the stores in, and I knotted a harness about the cask that I could slip an arm in, and off I goes when the tide sets right. But some kind of a dratted cross-current ketched me and I'm sailin' out to sea, I finds, without compass or cross-staff. Bound to get to London River, eh, Jack, same as we started out on the silly little raft."
"Whew, this adventure was bad enough," cried Jack, "but when you saw Ned Rackham's pirates in the boat, and you couldn't run away,—I wonder, honest, Joe, you didn't die of fright."
"What for? This is no trade for a nervous wight. And now for a bloody frolic with Blackbeard's bullies."
"There is a share of his treasure for you, Joe, as soon as we can go find it," gleefully announced Master Cockrell. "I have the chart drawn all true with mine own hand. Let me get it."
While the two lads pored entranced over the map of the branching creek and the pine-covered knoll, the crew of theRoyal Jameswere overhauling weapons and clearing the ship for action. It disappointed them tolack the twenty men whom they had expected to find marooned but this made them no less eager for battle. Concerning Ned Rackham, there was no feud with him or grudge to square and he could go his way in the little trading snow without fear of molestation from Stede Bonnet.
Under cover of night theRoyal Jamesworked back to the sandy islands and anchored in the channel. One of her boats had ventured within sight of the Inlet for a stealthy reconnaissance and reported that theRevengewas still in the harbor. Captain Bonnet was considering his plan of attack. He said nothing about it to Jack Cockrell and his chum, the merman, and they greedily listened to the gossip of the petty officers or thrashed out theories of their own.
To sail boldly into the harbor was a ticklish risk to run as there was no pilot aboard who knew the inner channel and the depths of water. All the gunners were in favor of attempting it because they yearned to settle it with crashing broadsides. But the battered, hairy sea-dogs who had fought it out in hand-to-hand conflicts on the Caribbean were for leaving the brig in safe water and sending fifty men in boats to board theRevengeat the first break of day.
In the midst of the fo'castle argument, Captain Bonnet sent for Jack Cockrell and told him:
"You are to keep out of harm's way, my young gamecock. I have undertaken to deliver you to your esteemed uncle with arms and legs intact, and your head on your shoulders."
"But I am lusty enough to poke about with a pike or serve at a gun tackle," protested the unhappy Master Cockrell.
"I expect you to obey me," was the stern mandate. "You will have company. This Joe Hawkridge is to stay with you."
"But he is a rare hand in a fight, Captain Bonnet. You should have seen him in thePlymouth Adventure."
"The boy is weak and all unstrung, though he carries it bravely, Jack. And Blackbeard's men would take special pains to kill him as a deserter."
By this humane verdict the two lads were shielded from peril, as far as it lay within Stede Bonnet's power. They should have felt grateful to him but on the contrary it made them quite peevish and they sulked by themselves up in the bow of the ship until it was time to eat again. Then their gnawing appetites persuaded them to forgive their considerate host.
The pirates moved about the deck until far into the night while the sparks flew from cutlass blades pressed to the whirling grindstone. Tubs were filled with hand-grenades and fire-pots, the deck strewn with sand, the magazine opened and powder passed up. Stede Bonnet was careful to see for himself that all things were in order. At such times he was a martinet of a soldier.
Anxiously he watched the weather signs, as did everyseasoned sailor on board. It bade fair to be a bright morning with an easterly air and this would carry the brig into the harbor with the minimum danger of stranding if the lead were cast often enough. Joe Hawkridge and Jack Cockrell were of some assistance in explaining the marks and bearings of the channel, and Captain Bonnet consulted them over the chart unrolled upon the cabin table. He had made up his mind to sail the brig in and risk the hazards of shoal water. When he went on deck, Jack thought of a topic as thrilling as this imminent duel between ships and he remarked with joyous excitement:
"Now, Joe, as soon as ever Blackbeard gets his drubbing, we beg a boat and men and gear of Captain Bonnet and go up the creek to fish out the treasure chest and dig in the knoll."
"Hook your fish before you fry 'em," replied the sagacious apprentice-boy. "This scrummage with theRevengewill be no dancin' heel-and-toe. A bigger ship, more guns and men, and a Blackbeard who will fight like a demon when he's cornered. Crazy though he may be, he is the most dangerous pirate afloat."
AN hour before dawn the anchor was aweigh and theRoyal Jamesdrifted ahead like a shadow, in between the outer islands where the fairway was wide and safe. Her gun-ports were open and every man was alertly at his station. It was a silent ship excepting when an officer passed an order along. Joe Hawkridge began to feel more sanguine of winning against odds. He had never seen such iron discipline as this in the bedlam aboard theRevenge. Stede Bonnet knew how to slacken the reins and when to apply the curb. His men were loyal because he dealt out justice as well as severity.
"The captain says we must go below when the action commences, Joe," dismally observed Jack Cockrell.
"It goes against the grain but we will not dispute him," was the sage reply. "We needn't be idle. You can lend a hand with the powder or pass the water buckets to douse the fire if she gets ablaze. And there's the wounded to carry into the cockpit and the blood to mop up, and——"
"Enough o' that," cried Jack, getting pale about the gills. "You take it like a butcher!"
"What else is it, you big moon-calf? Set me safe ashore in that Charles Town of yours, and I hope ne'er to see another weapon barring a spoon and a knife to cut my vittles."
"There is sense in that," agreed young Master Cockrell.
Smartly handled, the brig crept in as far as she dared go without more light by which to avoid the shallower water. The anchor was dropped to a short cable and buoyed ready to slip. It was estimated that the distance from Blackbeard's ship was somewhat more than a mile. The stars faded and the cloudless sky began to take on a roseate hue. The light breeze which had breathed like a cool zephyr through the night was dying in languid catspaws. Gradually the dark outline of coastal swamp and forest was uncurtained. And eager eyes were able to discern the yellow spars and blurred hull of theRevengeagainst the gloomy background.
Stede Bonnet's brig was, of course, pricked out much more sharply with the seaward horizon behind her. To her crew, in this hushed morning, there came a prolonged, shrill note that was like the call of a bird. It trilled with a silvery sweetness and was repeated over and over again.
"A bos'n's pipe," said Captain Bonnet, a hand cupped at his ear. "Blackbeard has sighted us and is mustering his crew."
So faint was the breeze that the command was givento man two boats and take a hawser from the brig to tow her through the inner channel. Before they were in motion, however, the pearly mist began to roll out of the Cherokee swamp as if a great cauldron were steaming. The weather favored it, heat in the air and little wind. The mist seemed also to rise from the water, hanging low but as thick as a summer fog. It shrouded the coast and Blackbeard's ship and crept out across the harbor until the brig was enveloped in it.
"'Twas like this when we swum ashore and found the pirogue, Cap'n Bonnet," said Joe Hawkridge. "A curious kind o' white smother from the swamp."
"And how long did it hang thus?" was the impatient query.
"When the sun was well up, sir, it seemed to burn away like. It has the same look as the fever-breedin' vapors of Darien and Yucatan."
Captain Bonnet called his boats back and was in an ugly humor. There was no towing the brig through this bothersome fog which obscured every mark and left a man bewildered. And instead of surprising Blackbeard unprepared, he would now have time to make his ship ready. However, Stede Bonnet was not a man to wring his hands because a well-laid scheme went wrong. Without delay the crew was assembled in the waist and he spoke to them from the break of the poop.
"We shall make this weather serve our purpose, lads. Fill the boats, every man to his billet. The mates willsee to it that the oars are well muffled. Silence above all things. Nimbly now."
There was no need to say more. They fathomed the strategy which would enable them to approach Blackbeard's ship unheard and unseen and then swarm over her side in a ferocious onslaught. Cheerily they took stock of their weapons, drank a health from a tub of stiff grog, and lined up for Captain Bonnet's inspection. They wore clean clothes, the best they could find in their bags, as has always been the sailor's habit when going into action. The ship was left in charge of the navigator with a few men who were the least stalwart or experienced in such desperate adventures as this.
Stede Bonnet went in command of the largest boat to lead the party and single out Blackbeard as his own particular foe. There was a large chance that he might not return and he therefore left instructions for the disposal of the brig, advising the navigator to take her to Charles Town and there sue for the king's pardon in behalf of those on board. He shook hands with Jack Cockrell and Joe Hawkridge, bade them be careful of their own safety, and with no more ado took his place in the boat. The flotilla stole away from the brig, sunburned, savage men with bright weapons for whom life was like a throw of the dice, and the pearly fog concealed them when they had passed no more than a cable-length away. So skilfully was the sound of the oars deadened that you wouldnot have guessed that boats were moving across the harbor.
"Blackbeard fights like a tiger but trust Cap'n Bonnet to outwit him," said Joe Hawkridge, who stood at the brig's rail with Jack at his elbow.
"It will be mighty hard waiting," was the tense reply. "We shall know when they find theRevenge. They are not apt to miss her, with a compass in the captain's boat."
"Aye, there'll be noise enough. Plaguey queer, eh, Jack, to be a-loafin' with nothing to see, like your head was wrapped in a blanket. They ought to fetch alongside Blackbeard in a half-hour. Go turn the sand-glass in the cabin."
They fidgeted about in aimless fashion and fell into talk with the navigator, or artist, as he was called, a middle-aged man who had been a master mariner in the slave trade. He told them a yarn or two of the Guinea coast but he, too, was restless and left them to stump up and down the deck and peer toward the shore. Jack dodged into the cabin to watch the sand trickle into the bottom of the glass. Never was a half-hour so long in passing.
A yell from Joe Hawkridge recalled him to the deck. He listened but heard no distant pistol shots or the hoarse uproar of men in mortal combat. Joe raised a warning hand and told him to stand still. There came a faint splash. It might have been a fish leaping butJoe insisted that it was made by a careless oar. Jack heard it again and then fancied he caught the softened beat of muffled oars close at hand.
"They lost the course. The fog confused 'em," said he, in great disgust.
"But why come back to the ship?" demanded Joe. "They could lay and wait for the fog to lift a little. And I told Cap'n Bonnet to bear to the north'ard if in doubt and find the shore of the swamp. Then he could coast back to the beach and so strike theRevenge."
"Well, here they come, Joe, and there is sure to be a good reason. Mayhap the fog cleared to landward and they intend to tow the brig in, after all."
Just then the foremost boat became visible and behind it was the vague shape of another. The puzzled lads stared and stared and the hair stiffened on their scalps for sheer horror. These were not the boats from theRoyal James. They were filled with Blackbeard's own pirates from theRevenge!
The explanation was simple enough. Joe Hawkridge read it at a glance. Blackbeard was not the drunken chuckle-head that Stede Bonnet had assumed him to be. He, too, had taken advantage of the fog to attempt to carry the enemy by stealth. The wit of the one had been matched by the other. And the two flotillas had gone wide enough in passing to escape mutual discovery. In a way it was a pirates' comedy but there were two spectators who foresaw a personal tragedy.They fled for the cabin and scuttled through a small door in a bulkhead which admitted them to the dark hold of the ship.
It was their purpose to hide in the remotest nook that could be found. Falling over odds and ends of cargo they burrowed like rats and stowed themselves behind a tier of mahogany logs which had been taken out of some prize or other. They were in the bottom of the ship, upon the rough floor covering the stone ballast. Then these frightened stowaways found respite to confer in tremulous whispers.
"This is the very dreadfulest fix of all, Joe. I had a fair look at Blackbeard himself, in the stern of the boat,—red ribbons in his whiskers, and his sash stuck full of pistols."
"That old rip isn't an easy man to mistake, Jack. Now the fatisin the fire," replied the Hawkridge lad who, for once, appeared discouraged. "Cap'n Bonnet is a vast sight happier than us. He gets theRevengewithout strikin' a blow."
"But Blackbeard getsus," wailed Master Cockrell. "And I helped to chase him through the swamp after we rammed the pirogue into his wherry and capsized the treasure chest. Do you suppose he knew me just now?"
"Those little red eyes of his are passing keen. But didn't ye tell me of smearing your face with mud that day to fend off the mosquitoes? It may ha' disguised you."
"A little comfort in that, Joe, but to be found in Stede Bonnet's brig bodes ill enough. Of a truth we be born to trouble as the sparks fly upward ever since we joined the pirates. What is your advice?"
"To stay hid below and pray God for another shift o' fortune," piously answered Joe. "There is no fear of Blackbeard's rummagin' the hold at present. He must decide if he'll fight theRevengeor give her the slip. And whilst him and his men are busied on deck, I can make bold to search for stores fit to eat. Cap'n Bonnet allus had a well-found ship. Blast it, Jack, my hearty, stock us up and we could lie tucked in the forepeak for a month o' Sundays."
"But the rats and the darkness and the stinks, and to be expecting discovery," was Jack's dreary comment.
"It would ha' looked like a parlor to me when I was on that barren cay and sighted Ned Rackham's rogues coming off from the snow," said the other stowaway. He was beginning to recuperate from the shock.
They were in a mood for no more speech but sat in this rayless cavern of a hold and strove to hear any sounds which might indicate the course of events on deck. There was no hubbub of firearms nor the cries of wounded men. It was foolish to assume that the dozen seamen who had been left to keep the ship would attempt resisting Blackbeard's mob of pirates all primed for slaughter. When quietude seemed to reign all through the ship Joe Hawkridge whispered this opinion:
"If his fancy was to deal with 'em later, he would pitch the lot down here in the hold. Failing that, Jack, he has offered 'em the chance to enlist. Being so few, they can't plot mischief, and he has lost the hands he left aboard theRevenge."
"But I thought all this crew was true as steel to Stede Bonnet, Joe."
"Many a man'll change his mind to save his life," was the reply. "And these lads aren't what you call Cap'n Bonnet's picked men. As for the navigator, Blackbeard needs him to fill Ned Rackham's berth."
Soon Joe Hawkridge told Jack to stay where he was. Now was the time to explore the lower part of the ship. Squeezing his comrade's hand in farewell, Joe crawled aft to make his way to a rough bulkhead which walled off a storeroom built next to the cabin. The boys had passed through it in their headlong flight below. Here was kept the bulk of the ship's provisions. Joe Hawkridge had learned of the storeroom through helping the steward hoist out a barrel of pork.
With his heart in his throat the venturesome lad groped like a blind man, grievously barking his shins and his knuckles, until he bumped into the timbers of the bulkhead. Inching himself along, he came to the small door which had been cut into the hold to connect with the main hatch. He had slipped the iron bar behind him during his flight with Jack Cockrell. Pulling the door ajar he wormed through into the storeroom whichwas also dark as midnight. His fingers touched what seemed to be a tierce of beef but he had no tools to start the head or the hoops. In the same manner he discovered other casks and barrels but they were utterly useless to him. Here was food enough, he reflected, if a man had teeth to gnaw through oak staves.
Now and again he had to cross to the other door which led into the cabin passageway and press his ear against a plank to make certain against surprise. Up and down the dark room he blundered, refusing to admit himself beaten. The first bit of cheer was when his foot struck a round object as solid as a round shot and he picked up a small Dutch cheese. This renewed his courage and he ransacked the corners on hands and knees. Blackbeard's treasure chest was not half so precious as a side of salted fish which he ran down by scent, saying to himself:
"With this rancid cheese and the slab o' ancient cod, ye could smell my course a league to wind'ard."
In a crumpled sack he found a few pounds of what seemed to be wheat flour, by the feel and taste of it. Poor stuff as it was, dry and uncooked, he added it to his stock.
"Rubbishy vittles," he sighed. "They may keep a man alive but he'll choke to death a-swallowin' of 'em."
Water was the desperate necessity and it was not to be sought for in the storeroom. There was rum enough, the place reeked with it, but to thirsty throats it was so much liquid fire. Joe was resolved not to return toJack Cockrell without a few pints of water if reckless enterprise could procure it. Was the cabin still empty? He stood for a long time and listened but there was not a sound beyond the door of the passageway. Taking his courage in both hands he pushed at the door and it creaked open on rusty hinges. Light as a feather he moved one foot in front of the other, halted, advanced another step, and so entered the large cabin in which Stede Bonnet had lived with a Spartan simplicity.
What Joe coveted was the porous jar or water-monkey which hung suspended in a netting above the table. It was kept filled, he knew, in order to cool the tepid water from the casks. A heavenly sight it was to him to see the drops sweating on its rounded sides. He snatched it down and was about to make a swift retirement, but still spread upon the table he noted the chart of the Carolina and Virginia coasts which he had pored over with Stede Bonnet. This he delayed to roll up and tuck under one arm, not that he expected to employ it himself, but to make cruising more difficult for Blackbeard.
This bit of strategy held him a moment too long. He shot a glance over his shoulder, alarmed by a tread on the companion ladder. Horrified he beheld a pair of Spanish boots with scarlet, crinkled morocco tops, and they encased bandy legs which were strong and thick. What saved the miserable young Hawkridge was that the occupant of these splendid boots paused half-waydown the ladder to shout a profane command or two in those husky accents so feared by all lawful shipmen.
Before that sable beard came into his field of vision the lad was in full stride, running like a whippet, chart under one arm, water-jar under the other. He checked himself to ease the door behind him just as the truculent captor of theRoyal Jamesbrig reached the foot of the ladder and let his gaze rove about the cabin. Sinking to the floor of the storeroom, Joe was afraid that for once he was about to swoon like a silly maid at sight of a mouse. As he had truly said, this pirating was no trade for a nervous man. Never mind, a miss was as good as a mile. Thankful for the darkness that closed around him, he slung the water-monkey over his shoulder in its hammock of netted cord, pushed the side of codfish inside his shirt, poked the chart into his boot-leg, put the cheese in the sack atop the flour, and was freighted for his journey through the hold.
This he accomplished after great difficulty and had to whistle and wait for a response before he could be sure of Jack Cockrell's whereabouts.
"What luck, Joe?" was the plaintive question. "I'd sooner starve than be left alone in this dungeon."
"Behold the dashing 'prentice-boy with another hairbreadth escape to his credit," replied the hero. "Be thankful for your dinner 'cause Blackbeard all but made a mouthful of me."
"You saw him, Joe?"
"Up to the middle of him, and that was a-plenty. Don't ask me. I had a bad turn."
"I feel sick, too," said Jack. "The smell of this vile bilge-water breeds a nausea, and, whew, 'tis worse than ever."
"Bilge, my eye! You sniff the banquet I fetched ye. Here's a prime cheese that was hatched when Trimble Rogers was a pup."
Jack offered a feeble apology and felt revived after a pull at the water-monkey. What they craved most was a spark of light, the glimmer of a candle to lift this appalling gloom which pressed down like a visible burden. With nothing to do but discuss the situation from every slant and angle of conjecture, it was Joe Hawkridge's theory that Stede Bonnet would not rest content with regaining theRevengebut would come out to attack the brig as soon as the wind favored. His hatred of Blackbeard was one motive but there was a point of honor even more compelling.
"He called you his guest, Jack," explained Joe, "and I never did see a man so jealous of his plighted word when once he swore it. He took obligation to set you safe in Charles Town, d'ye see? And powder smoke won't stop him."
"Will Blackbeard tarry for a fight, Joe?"
"Not to my notion. He knows well this brig is no match for theRevenge, knows it better than did Cap'n Bonnet, what with all the heavy metal slung aboardfrom the sloop. And what does Blackbeard gain by having this brig hammered into a cocked hat? Fate tricked him comically with this swappin' about of ships."
"And will he linger on this coast? Oh, Joe, if he goes for a long cruise, what in mercy's name becomes of us two?"
"A long cruise, it looks like, shipmate. In theRevengehe could laugh at the small king's men-o'-war commissioned to hunt him down. He was ready to slap alongside any of 'em. Now 'tis different. As another flea in his ear, I stole the only chart of these waters. To the south'ard he'll turn, and I will bet that rampageous cheese on it."
"Clear to the Bay of Honduras?" said Jack.
"As far as that, at a guess. Or he may skirt the Floridas to look for Spanish prizes and put in at the Dry Tortugas which is a famous rendezvous for pirates of the Main. He will be hot to fit himself with a bigger ship, by capture or by some knavish trick such as he dealt Cap'n Bonnet."
HERE was a tragic predicament from which there was no release. Jack Cockrell was firmly convinced that Blackbeard must have recognized him that day in the swamp while Joe felt no less certain that he was marked for death because he had been one of the party of marooned mutineers. The hope of prolonging their existence by means of raiding the storeroom had ebbed after Joe's investigation. Such provisions as had been broken out of bulk were kept in lockers and pantries on deck where they were convenient to the galley and forecastle. It was realized also that their twittering nerves could not long withstand the darkness and suspense once the brig had put out to sea. Joe Hawkridge had nothing more to say about enduring it a month o' Sundays.
While the brig remained at anchor they clung to the thought that Captain Stede Bonnet might intervene in their behalf. It did bring them a gleam of solace to imagine him hoisting sail on theRevengeand crowding out to rake the brig with his formidable broadsides. And yet they were in doubt whether theRevengewas fit to proceed at once, what with all the work there hadbeen to do, rigging a new foremast, caulking leaky seams, repairing the other ravages of the storm.
These pitiable stowaways had no means of telling one hour from another until, at length, they heard over their heads the faint, musical strokes of the ship's bell on the forecastle head. This led them to believe that the fog had cleared else Blackbeard would not have revealed the vessel's position. And lifting fog meant a breeze to sweep it away from the harbor.
"Eight bells she strikes, the first o' the forenoon watch," said Joe. "We have been cooped in this black pit a matter of three hours a'ready."
"No more than that?" groaned Jack. "It seems at least a week. We must divert ourselves in some wise. What say if I learn you a bit o' Latin? And you can say over such sea songs as come to mind, for me to tuck in my memory."
"Well said, my worthy scholar. 'Tis high time we bowled ahead with my eddication as a proper gentleman."
Jack began to conjugateamo,amas,amat, and the pupil droned it after him but the verbto loverecalled a black-eyed lass who had stolen his heart in the Azores and he veered from the Latin lesson to confide that sentimental passage. So Jack hammered nouns of the first declension into him until they grew tired of that, and then the sea waif played his part by reciting such fo'castle ballads as "Neptune's Raging Fury;or The GallantSeaman's Sufferings," and "Sir Walter Raleigh Sailing in the Lowlands."
This was better than the slow agony of waiting in silence, but Joe spoiled it by turning lovelorn and Jack bemourned fair Dorothy Stuart of Charles Town whom he would never greet again, and they sang very softly together a verse of "The Maid's Lamentation" which went like this: