The easterly end of Long Island is exceedingly ragged in its contour. It is made up of straggling promontories, bays, inlets, and the adjacent waters contain many islands, large and small, with outlying rocky ledges. The opposite shore, the mainland of New England, is of a similar character. Between them, the eastern sound and the neck of water by which it is to be entered, provide a great deal of pretty circumspect navigation.
It is said, although no one now living was there at the time to collect testimony, that once the mainland and the island were connected by a rugged isthmus, now sunken or washed away. If it were ever there, enough of it is left to require good piloting.
A fleet of war-ships proposing to blockade or supervise the port of Boston, may at the same time extend its operations so as to cork up the Sound. This process, if made sufficiently thorough, may include in the blockade such ports as New London, Providence, New Haven, and their smaller neighbors. All of these, during the Revolutionary War, were not only developing rapidly their regular commercial relations but were nests of privateering enterprises.
The British naval authorities were often unable to detail for this part of their general blockade of America a sufficient number of ships, and it was a service much disliked by their captains and crews, especially in winter.
The area of ocean to be patrolled was wide, and in spite of all watching the Yankee ships ran in and out. Boston, especially, was building up again, after its long period of military occupation, siege, and desolation, much to the disgust of its many enemies.
During some hours after the escape of theNoankfrom theBoxer, Up-na-tan was down in the hold, and Guert Ten Eyck was with him. The old Manhattan was no builder of ships, whatever he might be able to do for a canoe, but he had seen a great many, here and there. He seemed now to be carrying on a kind of critical investigation of the naval architecture of the schooner.
"What is it?" asked Guert, as his red friend placed a hand curiously upon one of the ribs of the vessel and glanced from that to other timbers.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Good stick. Like lobster war-ship. All make schooner strong. Carry long gun!"
"Captain Avery wishes she could," said Guert. "The mate thinks she can't."
"No gun anyhow, now," said the chief, shaking his head. "Wait!"
The subject of the Manhattan's inquiry belonged to a controversy then going forward among the royal naval constructors and sea-captains. The reason why England's third and fourth rate cruisers carried only light guns, and many of them, was simply their frail timbering. Too heavy artillery might rack them dangerously. It would call for precisely the strength of frame provided by American shipyards for craft which might bump an ice-floe.
Up-na-tan was still further informing himself concerning the skeleton of theNoank, when a shout from above summoned them both.
"Guert," called down Captain Avery, "you and he come to the cabin. Now all's clear, you must learn something."
On the deck all things were quiet. Not a sail was in sight that indicated a craft as large as their own. The schooner was spinning along, with all sails set and a fair wind in them. Everything about her, from deck to topmast, wore a clean, orderly, service look, that spoke volumes for the high character of her crew. She was all ready to do her best at any moment, and she was sure of being well handled. Perhaps a seaman would have critically remarked upon the fact that with such a wind she was not taking a course directly out into the Atlantic.
The captain's cabin, well aft below deck, was a small affair. It seemed almost crowded when only half a dozen persons were in it.
"Now, Guert," said Captain Avery, "if I don't make the chief understand, you must explain it to him. Talk Dutch, or any other lingo. He's the sharpest lookout there is on board, and he's a prime steersman. He must know what some things mean."
"What things?" asked Guert.
Two rugged old sailors who had entered the cabin with Sam Prentice, also looked on inquiringly, while the captain went to a locker and took out of it a leather case.
"Guert," he said, "it's the first duty of the commander of a ship that's being taken by an enemy to put his private signal-book overboard. It's kept weighted all the while, so it will sink. Now, Luke Watts did his duty in that particular. His mate and his crew looked on and saw him do it. So did I. They saw him drown something like this."
The case was open, now, and out of it was drawn what appeared to be several sheets of parchments, wired together, so that they might be rolled up like a pamphlet.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Chief know 'em. Ship talk with lantern. Talk to other ship with flag. Captain got plenty lantern? Plenty flag? Tell Up-na-tan how."
A deep cupboard under the captain's bunk was at once thrown open, and its contents were interesting. Red, green, blue, yellow, white, large lanterns and small. Beside them lay a collection of sheafs of rockets, each of which carried a written parchment tab to tell its nature. Signal flags were there, also, in tightly tied-up rolls, and Up-na-tan loudly grunted his approval of them.
"First, now, for the book," said the captain. "Every man on board can be trusted to know signals. There isn't one traitor in theNoank, nor a fool, either. Sam and I must go on deck. You and the men and the redskin stay here and study those things. Git 'em all into your head, if you can. We may have a lot o' sharp dodgin' to do, this cruise."
Out he went, taking Sam with him, and then it at once appeared that Guert had become a remarkable kind of schoolmaster, trying to explain to others what he did not know himself. The two sailors were not altogether unlettered men, but lack of practice had left them slow at deciphering handwriting, and Guert seemed to have a knack of it. As for the Indian, he did not know one letter from another, but he could handle flags and lanterns as if they were hunting signs or the totems of clans and tribes. Signal after signal was picked out and its working practically illustrated in questions or answers.
"'Top!" exclaimed Up-na-tan, at last. "Head full! See more by and by." So said the sailors, and Guert himself felt as if he had been going through a hard time at a new school.
"But wasn't that a cute thing of Luke Watts!" he thought, as he came on deck. "I'd like to try some o' those signals on a British ship. I don't know how far we've run. The captain says our tightest squeeze isn't far ahead of us, now."
The schooner, oddly enough, was actually running within sight of Block Island. Some, at least, of her perils must be behind her. Perhaps more would have been if a sailing vessel could go straight ahead, in any direction, like a steamer. That, however, is one of several things that she cannot do. Many an hour of swift sailing, tacking back and forth, must often be extended in gaining only a few miles of her true course.
The crew of theNoankwere not at all puzzled by the peculiar manner in which she was handled, and some of their faces betrayed anxiety.
"Guess ole Avery wish dark come," remarked Coco to his friends as they stood together at the foremast. "Lobster out yonder, somewhere."
It was only about the middle of the afternoon, and the captain's telescope was busy every few minutes.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "'Tack to Montauk. No go out yet. Captain head good. Want fog. Want night."
There was a laugh behind them, and Guert swung around to ask of Sam Prentice:—
"Can you tell me how it is, sir?"
"I guess I can," said the mate. "We know a good deal more'n we did. While you were all below, we spoke a Providence man. Cod-fisher. My boy, there's a whole fleet of Britishers out there, somewhere, spread all along. Merchantmen, troop-ships, cruisers. Some of 'em heavy fellers. We must keep well in, for a while."
"Ugh!" said the red man. "Mate let ole chief take glass. Want look."
Prentice had with him his marine telescope, an unusually good one, and he at once handed it to the Manhattan.
"Your eyes are 'most as good as glasses," he said. "Let's see what you can make out with that. I saw a sail, myself. Pretty well down, easterly."
There is a great deal of difference in eyes, even in good ones, and the American red men possess peculiar faculties for sign reading.
"Ugh!" said the Indian, after slowly and carefully sweeping the sea and the horizon with the glass. "Bad!Noank'tay in. One war-ship. One, two, three, four other ship."
"Men-of-war and the convoy!" exclaimed Prentice. "Lyme Avery! Here they are! Come this way! If the redskin hasn't sighted 'em!"
"Ship o' line," now remarked Up-na-tan. "Frigate. Little gun ship."
"Let me take the glass," said the captain, as he came; "it's a good deal more'n we had reason to expect. Makes things look kind o' cloudy."
"Well," said Sam, "it's about what the Boston pilot told that Providence feller. If we'd ha' gone on in too much of a hurry, we'd ha' run right in among 'em."
"They're north o' their best course for New York," remarked the captain. "I wonder if any of 'em are from Halifax. It may mean more army to fight General Washington."
"Mebbe," said Sam. "It's likely some of 'em are the reg'lar coast cruisers. As for the convoy, they're slow and heavy. It's about the course I'd expect them to run."
"We'll take in sail and heave to," said the captain. "Our safest hidin'd be under Martha's Vineyard."
They were not a very long reach from that island now. There were several fishing smacks in sight, and none of them were taking in sail. It looked, rather, as if they were all heading homeward. Perhaps they, too, had been warned of a British fleet, and every man on board of them was in danger of pitiless impressment, if his boat were to come within range of the guns of a king's ship.
In came the sails of theNoank, and then came a time of watching, waiting, and anxiety.
"Nine sail in sight," remarked Captain Avery, at last, "and there's more'n that to come. British flag on every one of 'em. Of course, they've sighted us, long before this."
"One comin' for us, I guess," said Coco.
"Headin' this way, sure!"
"I guess so," said the captain, quietly. "It's gettin' dusk, though. Her glasses won't do any good, much longer.—Men! All sail! Jump, now! Our time's come!"
His manner had undergone a sudden change, and there was a red flush on his face. The men heard him say to his son:—
"No, Vine, I won't be taken. I'll fight that nighest feller, if I've got to. He isn't a heavy one."
His orders went out fast, and the schooner was quickly under a cloud of canvas. She had indeed been noticed by the British commanders, and arrangements had been made to overhaul her, as a matter of course.
Her flight, or at least her escape, from such a fleet as she was now facing, was an absurdity not to be thought of. Whatever sort of American craft she might be, she was soon to have an officer and a boat's crew on board of her, ascertaining how many of her sailors it was best to take into the service of the king.
"Father," suggested Vine, "they won't send a boat till they're nearer than this, a good deal. The sea's getting a bit rough, too, and the wind's fresh'ning."
"I don't care how many boats they send," replied the captain. "I can sink 'em as they come. We'll run farther in behind Nantucket, but we won't go too far. The redskin says he saw a topsail off the channel that's cut too square to suit us."
"Reg'lar cruiser's tops'l," put in Sam Prentice. "How she came to be there, I don't know. Are they layin' a trap for us? Lyme, this 'ere's goin' to be touch and go."
"It'll be go, then," said the captain.
"Maybe we won't touch, either. It's promisin' the darkest kind o' night. They won't dream o' what our next long tack'll be.—Men! All hands! Hark a moment, now!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" came back from all sides, and as many as could came crowding around him.
"There may be more'n twenty sail, of all sorts, yonder, for all we know," he said. "We make it out it's the British army supply fleet, with troop-ships full of redcoats and Hessians. Likely, too, there are reg'lar merchantmen for New York. They've a strong convoy, j'ined, jest now, by the blockade ships, big and little. I calc'late, the more of 'em there is, the better for us. I'm goin' to run theNoankright through 'em. Sam Prentice, take some men and fetch up the lanterns and rockets. Now, boys, I ain't sure but we'll have a little fun, but there mustn't be a loud word spoke on board this schooner."
With subdued laughter and chuckles of appreciation, the men scattered to their duties. There was not a sign of fear among them and hardly an expression of doubt as to the result.
The schooner herself seemed to go into the daring undertaking before her, with all her heart as well as with all sails set. She swung around upon her seaward tack and went with a speed that did her credit.
It was dark, and the darkness was deepening. Far away as yet, and in all directions, the lights that were hung out by the British ships, both of war and peace, were glimmering and twinkling as they rose and fell with the surges that bore them. It was shortly evident that some of these were signals that were exchanging, in accordance with the directions of the secret signal code, and Captain Avery began to assort and arrange his lanterns.
"Sam," he said, "I guess I'll answer that call to close up with the flag-ship. All the rest of our fleet are answerin' it."
"Lyme," responded Prentice, "I'm in for fun, if there is any. Why couldn't we mix 'em up?"
"We'll try, anyhow," said the captain.
"Cap'n," put in Up-na-tan, almost respectfully, so strong was getting to be his warrior admiration for the cunning and courage of his commander, "s'pose we tell lobster ship, rebel enemy come. Rebel right here. Make 'em feel good. Fire gun!"
"I guess that's about as sharp a thing as we could do," replied the captain. "Guert, pick out those white rockets. Hand 'em over."
Guert was having the fireworks under his especial charge, for he was found able to read the somewhat roughly written tabs.
"Here they are, sir," he said in half a minute. "There's plenty more of that kind."
Vine Avery had the lanterns, and he had already made use of them in mocking replies to more than one swinging, dancing signal.
Now, as the captain lighted the rockets, up into the gloom went fizzing and flashing the prescribed announcement of danger. Each rocket let out, as it exploded, a pretty large ball of red flame, as if to emphasize its message. War-ship after war-ship told her character by responding with a similar rocket, the merchantmen keeping quiet, and then from the flag-ship of the fleet came the boom of a heavy gun.
"Heavens!" suddenly exclaimed Captain Avery, as he watched for those responses. "One o' their cruisers is nigher'n I'd counted on! Starboard your helm, Sanders! All ready to go about!"
"Ship ahoy!" came out of the gloom beyond them. "Amphitrite! What ship's that? Where are the enemy? What is she?"
"Kr-g-h-um-n, of Liverpool," sang out Captain Avery huskily, indistinctly, through his trumpet.
"They won't make much out of that," Guert was thinking, but the British officer angrily shouted back:—
"Kraken, of Liverpool? You blockhead! What do I care for that? Where away's the Yankee?"
"Armed schooner, sir! Pirate! Passed close by, westerly. Say 'bout two p'ints south."
"Where away, now, stupid?"
"On the lee bow, sir," trumpeted the captain. "Runnin' free. We was nigh 'nough to see her guns."
"Blockhead!" came back. "Why didn't you signal sooner? You deserve a good rope's ending! Close up with the admiral!"
"Ay, ay, sir! There she goes! They're gettin' hold of her," responded Captain Avery.
For at that moment another gun from another man-of-war sounded well to leeward. It was accompanied by more rocket signals that went up to be read by all the fleet.
"Captain," sang out Guert, as he tried to read them, "green rocket bursting into red. It means 'Pirate in chase of merchantman.'"
"All right," said the captain, "it's some other feller. We're not in chase of anybody. Up-na-tan! Vine! swing out that biggest blue lantern. I'll send up a blue rocket burstin' yeller and green. Then douse the lanterns."
"What does that mean, father?" inquired Vine, raising the blue lights.
"Mean?" uproariously responded the captain. "Why! it means 'Mutiny on board ship. Send help to quell mutiny.'"
The British admiral saw that rare and exceedingly annoying signal with intense indignation.
"That's it!" he stormed, "another 'cursed mutiny! That comes of crowding the king's ships with the off-scourings of the merchant service, and jail-birds, and slaves, and picaroons, and 'pressed Yankee rebels. Not one of 'em's fit to be trusted. The king'll lose ships by it! They'd better be all hung!"
Meantime, under an almost perilous press of sail for such a wind and so rough a sea, the stanch, swiftNoankwas dashing along her course. Every minute carried her oceanward, but not all her dangers were behind her.
Rapid signalling went on between the British war-ships and their now frightened convoy. The unarmed vessels were hurrying toward their protectors like so many chickens toward a clucking hen. No other incident or accident of any importance occurred to any of them. As hour after hour went by in the darkness of the night, and then in the very chilly morning that followed, an eager, angry, discomforting process of inquiry went forward from ship to ship. Upon which of them had been the mutiny? Had it succeeded? Had it been put down? Did the mutineers take the boats and get away?
"Not on this ship, sir," was the altogether uniform response, and all the vessels known to be in company had been accounted for.
Not only was it that not one solitary mutineer could be discovered: it also appeared that no such ship as theKraken, of Liverpool, had at any time joined herself to that convoy.
"'Pon my soul!" exclaimed the astonished admiral, at last, "this is great! Ponsonby, my dear fellow, the chap that hailed you in the dark must have been the Yankee pirate himself. What do you think?"
"I think he got away, sir," calmly replied Captain Ponsonby, of theAmphitrite, forty-four. "The rebel rascal has slipped through our fingers in the most audacious manner. Showed pluck, too."
"He did!" groaned the admiral.
An army in garrison will surely spend money, officers and men. So will a fleet in port. The British camps, upon and near Manhattan Island contained thousands of soldiers, and the warships on the station, or arriving and departing, were numerous. There was sure to be, upon almost any day, enough of "shore leave" or camp leave given, and the streets of New York City were often even brilliant with uniforms. The burnt district could already show many new buildings, mostly shops and warehouses, and the streets were clear of rubbish. The merchants and shopkeepers were said to be doing very well; some of them were making fortunes out of the needs of the king's forces. In the social life of the town there had been a notable change. Rich loyalists from the interior had fled to New York for safety. All the old houses were occupied, in one way and another. Some new ones were built or building. There was a great deal of dinner giving and the like. On the whole, therefore, the ruined city was beginning a new and very peculiar era of prosperity. This was to continue, during the years of the war, to such a degree that upon the return of peace all things would be in readiness for rapid commercial development.
The harbor, with so many ships in it that were all at anchor, wore a frosty, sleepy look, one winter morning. Boats were pulling here and there, from ship to ship, or between the ships and the shore. The morning gun had long since sounded, and the reveilles at the forts and camps. All the flags and pennants were drooping upon their staffs in the still, cold air, and nowhere did any sails appear to be spreading.
Upon the after deck of one elderly looking three-master stood a man who was evidently taking a thoughtful survey of her.
"Levtenant," he said, to a British naval officer standing near him, "this 'ere craft is ready for sea."
"I've brought your sailing orders, then," said the officer. "The sooner you're off, the better."
"Jest so!" said Captain Luke Watts. "They all tell me she isn't a bad one to go. I'm goin' to give her all the chances that are in her. I ain't in any hurry for a return cargo, though. I've had one lesson."
"Pretty narrow escape, they say," said the lieutenant. "It wasn't your fault, though. You'll be taking return cargoes from New York to Liverpool, before long. This war's nearly over."
"Guess it is," said Watts, "but it'll be spring before anything more can be done with Mr. Washington."
"Cornwallis'll catch him, then," was the confident rejoinder. "The old Virginia fox can hole away among his Jersey hills for a few weeks longer. Then Cornwallis promises to dig him out."
"Oh, he'll do that, fast enough," said Watts. "I s'pose, if I ever git back, I may find him a prisoner in New York. My first business, though, is to git this craft across the Atlantic. I'm to have a thin crew and no guns, and I've to depend on my sails altogether. There are risks."
"Can't help it," said the lieutenant, "and you mustn't lose her."
"You may tell the admiral," answered Watts, a little sharply, "that if I don't, he may have me shot."
"I'll tell him so."
"It's Liverpool or my neck!" said Watts, emphatically. "Tell him I'll take the northerly course, weather or no weather, out o' the way o' pirates, and he needn't be uneasy."
The carrying of that report to the captain of the port yet more firmly established the confidence which was reposed in the loyalty of Captain Watts. He was to be allowed to use his own judgment very freely, and he was likely to have continuous employment as a Tory commander of British ships.
There was hardly any cargo worth speaking of in the hold of theTermagant. She was going home in ballast. British commerce with the colonies was entirely cut off, and this of itself was a severe war blow to the mother country, equivalent to many defeats of her armies in the field. American commerce itself, however, although terribly assailed, was all the while on the increase. Up to the outbreak of the war, everything produced for export in the colonies had to go out under British restriction, whether directly to England or otherwise. All that did not do so escaped by adventurous processes of a smuggling description, and the amount of it was limited. Now, for instance, the tobacco of Virginia and the Carolinas, when it could get out at all, could be sold in any port of Europe which it might reach. The West India Islands, also, were ready to take wheat to any amount, paying for it in sugar, molasses, rum, cash, tobacco, or fruits. The war laws of nations and the existing treaties, even if these were strictly adhered to, were not in such a shape as to hinder France or Holland or Spain from opening trade relations, hardly concealed, with the revolted colonies of Great Britain. All the politics of Europe were in a dreadfully mixed, uncertain condition, and what was called peace was very like a war in the bud that promised to become full blown before a great while.
The greatest of all hinderances to American prosperity did not belong to the war at all. It was the absence of good facilities for inland transportation. The roads were bad, and little was doing to make them better. The natural watercourses, rivers, bays, and sounds, were of great value, but they did not exist in many places where they were needed. Washington's army almost starved to death, simply because there were no railways, not even macadamized roads, by means of which he could receive the abundant supplies which his fellow-patriots in numberless localities were eagerly ready to send him. Large amounts of produce, year after year, rotted on the ground among the up-country farms of all the states, because the cost of wagoning was too great, or the roads were impassable, or the markets did not exist.
While this was the condition of things on the land, not only in America, but in all other countries, there was a scourge of the sea that was almost as hurtful to commerce as was privateering itself. Piracy had been fought out of large parts of the ocean, only making an occasional appearance, but in other parts it held an only half-disputed sway. One consequence was that the mere dread of the black flag kept out commercial enterprise almost altogether from a large number of promising fields. The fact was, that every case of a vessel lost at sea and not heard from, and of these there were many, was sure to be charged over to the account of piracy, so that the actual evil was made to appear much greater than its reality.
A severe check had been given to the slave trade at first by the closing of its North American market, only a few human cargoes, if any, being delivered among the colonies during the Revolutionary War. On the other hand, the dealers in black labor were encouraged by a steadily increasing demand from the British and Spanish islands, and from South America.
So entirely different was the ocean world, therefore, from what it is to-day, and so easy does it become to form wrong ideas concerning old-time war and peace on sea and land.
The Yankee privateer, theNoank, Captain Lyme Avery commanding, had indeed left a large British fleet behind her, and all the sea was before her. Conversations between her commander and his very free-spoken subordinates, however, revealed the fact that what might be called her commission as a ship of war was exceedingly roving. Even that very next morning, as he and his mate stood forward, anxiously scanning the horizon, the latter inquired:—
"Lyme,—I say! How'd it do to tack back and try to cut out one o' them supply ships?"
"Too risky, altogether," replied the captain. "South! South! I say. We mustn't hang 'round here. There are more ships runnin' between Cuby and Liverpool than there ever was before."
"Fact!" said Sam. "The British can't git their tobacker from the colonies any more. They git a first-rate article from the Spaniards, though, and they have to pay tall prices for it."
"That's it," said Avery. "I want to run one o' those fine-leaf cargoes into New London. Good as gold and silver to trade with. I'd a leetle ruther have sugar, though, full cargo, ship and all, with plenty o' molasses."
Others of the schooner's company chimed in, agreeing generally with the captain, and it looked more and more as if the immediate errand of theNoankmight be considered settled. She herself was going ahead very well, and was in fine condition.
Away forward, at the heel of the bowsprit, with no sailor duty pressing him just now, loafed Guert Ten Eyck. He had borrowed a telescope from Vine Avery, and he had been using it until he grew tired of searching the horizon in vain, and he had shut it up. He was feeling just a little homesick, perhaps, after the over-excitement of the previous days. He was thinking of his mother rather than of stunning successes as a young privateersman.
"Wouldn't I like to see her this morning!" he was thinking. "I'd like to tell her and the rest how we beat that British fleet—"
"Ugh!" exclaimed a voice at his elbow. "Boy no lookout! Go to sleep! Wake up! Up-na-tan take glass!"
Guert's dulness vanished, and he at once straightened up, for the contemptuous tone of the old Manhattan stung him a little. He had not been stationed there by any order, as a responsible watchman, but the old redskin was unable to understand how any fellow on a warpath, whether in the woods or upon the water, could at any moment be otherwise than looking out for his enemies. His own keen eyes were continually busy without any mental effort or any official instructions. He now took the telescope and began to use it methodically. Around the circle of the sea it slowly turned, until it suddenly became fixed in a north-westerly direction.
"Sail O!" he sang out. "Where cap'n?"
"Here I am!" came up the forward hatchway. "Where away? What do you make her out?"
"Nor-nor-west!" called back the Indian. "Square tops'l. No see 'em good, yet. Man-o'-war come."
"Jest as like as not," said Captain Avery. "Shouldn't wonder if they'd sent a cruiser after us. Hurrah, boys! A stern chase is a long chase, but that isn't the first thing on hand. Sam! I was down at the barometer. There's a blow comin'! Worst kind! All hands to shorten sail! Lower those topsails!"
It was a somewhat unexpected order for a crew to receive if an enemy's cruiser were indeed so close upon their heels, and there was hardly a cloud in the steel-blue winter sky. It was obeyed, however, the men passing from one to another the discovery of Up-na-tan while they tugged at their ropes and canvas.
Guert sprang away aloft, for this was a part of his seamanship, in which the captain was compelling him to take pretty severe lessons.
"You'll have to be on a square-rigged ship, one of these days," he had told him. "I want you to know 'bout a schooner before you get away from her. But you'll find there's an awful difference 'twixt the handlin' o' theNoankand a full-rigged three-master. You'll need heaps and heaps o' sea schoolin'."
Guert was very well aware of that, from more tongues than one, and Sam Prentice was also beginning to put him through a mathematical course of the study of navigation. This, in fact, had begun during the long months of inactivity at New London, and he had been much helped in it by his Quaker friend, Rachel Tarns. He was to be of some use, one of these days, she had told him; and a fellow who did not know how to navigate could never become a sea-captain. An ignorant chap, a mere sailor, must serve before the mast all his life.
In came the clouds of canvas, all but a reefed mainsail and foresail and a jib.
"She's safe, now, I think," said the captain. "I guess I'll go down and take another look at that glass. It kind o' startled me, it was goin' down so. Sam, how's the stranger?"
"Heading for us, I'd say," called back the mate. "She's a three-master, too. She's carryin' all sail, just now. If there's a heavy blow a comin', she may throw away some of her sticks."
"She may do worse'n that," said the captain, "if she cracks on too much canvas. We won't, though."
Down below he hastened, and now Up-na-tan was pointing at something white and hazy well up in the eastern sky. Every old salt on board was quickly watching what appeared to be, at first, a change of color from blue to gray. Some of them were shaking their heads gravely.
"It's the wrong time o' year," said one, "for that sort o' thing. I know 'em. They're jest crushers. Tell ye what. If it's that kind o' norther, it'll drop down awful sudden when it gits here. Lyme Avery hasn't been a mite too kerful. He knows what he's about."
"There's odds in storms," replied a grizzled whaler near him. "I've seen a Hull trader knocked all to ruins in ten minutes by one o' them fellers. Every stick was blown out of her, and she foundered before sundown."
"Look out sharp for all the gun fastenings!" shouted the captain, as he again came hurriedly on deck. "Up-na-tan, you and Coco guy that pivot-gun, hardest kind. This boat's likely to be doin' some pitchin' and rollin' pretty soon. There'll be an awful sea. Where's that Englishman?"
"Wait a bit," said Up-na-tan. "Ole chief give lobster one shot."
"All right," said the captain. "She's in good range now. Have your extra gearings ready to clap on. This schooner has weathered all sorts o' gales, but it won't do to let her git caught nappin'."
There had been more than a little surprise on board King George's fine frigateClyde, of thirty-six guns. There had been a group of seaman-like officers upon her quarter-deck at about the time she was discovered by Up-na-tan. Marine glasses were at work in the hands of more than one of those gentlemen, and the express reason for it appeared in their conversation.
TheClydewas a cruiser somewhat noted for her speed. She had been of the convoy of the fleet through which theNoankhad so cunningly worked her way, and had been at once detailed to chase the saucy privateer. This was decidedly pleasanter than guarding slow merchantmen, and the frigate's commander had congratulated himself heartily.
"If we don't strike her, we may pick up something else," he had remarked, adding: "I think I can make out the course she's most likely to take. Two to one, she's bound for the Havana, to harry our West India trade. We'll keep a sharp lookout."
So he did, and he had been rewarded even sooner than he had expected.
"Right under our noses," he had said, when the discovery of the schooner was announced. "We can outsail her."
"Captain!" interrupted his next in command, excitedly. "If she isn't taking in sail! What can that mean?"
"She may take us for something else," said the captain. "It's a fine breeze. She couldn't think of fighting us."
"Not a bit of it," said the officer; but his commander was an old, experienced sea-captain, and the queer conduct of his intended prize set him to thinking.
He walked up and down the deck during about half a minute, and then he began to look up curiously at the sky.
"That's it!" he shouted, his whole manner changing suddenly. "The Yankees are right! All hands! Shorten sail!"
He poured rapid orders through his trumpet, while his lieutenants and other officers sprang away to their duties, leaving him almost alone upon the quarter-deck.
"It's plain enough what it means," he said aloud. "There's trouble coming; we must in with every rag. This ship's too light, anyhow, for a hurricane. The men don't know it, but they may be working for their lives. All right! Things are coming in fast enough. I'll get that schooner, too, wind or no wind."
As yet, there was only a fresh breeze to take note of, so far as a landsman could have discerned. There was no actual excitement among the sailors of theClyde, merely because of a change in the color of the sky. Some of them, however, had sailed as many seas as had their captain or the whalers of theNoank, and they were freely expressing to their comrades their approval of his prudence. All were working, therefore, with an uncommon degree of energy. Their ways and their performances would have been, if he could have seen them, a very instructive lesson to Guert Ten Eyck. He would have learned much concerning the differences between a square-rigged three-master and a schooner like theNoank.
During this somewhat brief and exceedingly busy time, the two vessels had steadily approached each other. The first officer of theClydehad attended to his taking in and reefing, and he now stood once more before his captain.
"The prize is within long range, sir."
"All right, Mr. Watson. Give her a gun. We must take her or sink her."
"Best sink her, sir. It's not safe to send off a boat. Most likely she's heavily armed, sir."
"No," said the captain, "no boat. We're short-handed, anyhow. We'll not sink her if we can help it. One thing I'm after is to overhaul her crew."
"You are right, sir," laughed the lieutenant. "A shot may bring her to."
There was more than one element, therefore, in the supposable value of theNoank, considered as the prize of the British frigate,Clyde.
Out ran one of the latter's port guns, shotted. It was well aimed, too, whether or not it was intended mainly as a sharp command to surrender. Its heavy shot went whizzing between the schooner's raking masts, doing no actual damage, but serving as a serious warning.
"A little lower!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "That was closer than I expected. Up-na-tan! Let 'em have it!"
He had but just given the order to go about, and theNoankwas almost as good as standing still, while the red man sighted his gun. His marksmanship was a shade better, too, than that of the British gunner.
Such a response, or any at all with a gun, had been utterly unexpected by all on board theClyde.
"Hit us?" gasped the captain. "We are struck? Was there ever such impudence! See what that is!"
"The port o' th' capt'n's cab'n!" shouted a sailor. "It's mashed, sir! And 'ere comes th' wind, sir!"
There had been a crash of wood and glass at the closed port-hole, and from that the Indian's iron messenger had gone on through the cabin door. All to bits flew a great swinging lantern in the saloon, and a wide gap was made in the woodwork of the state-room opposite. This had been closely packed with dinner-table delicacies, including many cases of wine. Sad work was therefore made of the costly juice of the grape, whether purchased or captured. A small flood of it, as red as blood, but not as horrible, came streaming out to tell of the bottle-breaking.
"'Orrid waste, sir!" groaned the captain's steward, as he gazed upon that crimson rivulet. "'E could ha' dined the fleet on 'alf o' that. I'll not forgive they Yonkees!"
"Give 'em a broadside!" roared the angry lieutenant on deck.
"No!" as loudly commanded the cool and prudent captain, adding to his friend: "Not just now, my boy. Call all hands to quarters. It'll be hold hard, in a few minutes. Ease her! Ease her! Starboard your helm! Steady all! Here it comes!"
He was a prime good seaman, that captain of theClyde, and he was at that moment looking aloft to see his maintopsail blown to leeward.
"I'm glad it went!" he exclaimed. "Good luck! since they couldn't get it in. That'll relieve the strain on the topmast. It wouldn't ha' stood it."
Other sails threatened to follow, however, and the frigate was beginning to reel and pitch unpleasantly, although no very heavy sea had yet risen. The sky overhead was all one whiteness, but low down, northeasterly, it was blackening. The wind that came was bitterly cold and cutting, as well as resistlessly strong. On board theNoankall had been made ready for its arrival, and the schooner showed at once the excellence of her modelling. She leaned over, under her closely reefed mainsail, with a mere apron of a jib, and sped away southerly at a rate which her square-rigged pursuer was not at all likely to rival.
The captain of theClydewatched her, as he clung tightly to his lashings at the foot of his mizzenmast, using his telescope as best he could, and making remarks as calmly as if he had been contemplating a horse-race.
"I'll say one thing for the Yankees," he said. "We can take lessons from them in light ship building. That's a good one. I wish I had the sailors that are handling her. They turn out some o' the best seamen afloat. Worth twenty apiece of some that were sent to me."
He was himself a fine specimen of the race of vikings who have made England the queen of the seas. Nowhere have they ever been more highly appreciated than among their cousins of the New World, and their many achievements are a part of our own ancestral inheritance.
For the immediate present, at least, theNoankwas safe, so far as the British navy might be concerned.
"Guert!" said Up-na-tan, when their watch below brought them together. "Look ole brack man! Coco no like cole wind. Like 'em warm. Up-na-tan no care! Ugh! WantNoankrun south. No freeze hard."
Poor Coco had indeed been shivering pitifully when he came down from the deck. Not all the experiences he had had during many northern winters had prepared his Ashantee constitution to enjoy a norther.
In fact, moreover, there was not an old whale catcher on board who did not now and then congratulate himself that the schooner was steering toward the tropics, and would soon leave behind her that fierce, destructive river of dry, penetrating polar air.
It was greatly to the advantage of the swiftNoankthat her larger and even swifter enemy was having a battle of its own. The burly commander of theClydewas compelled to surrender, for the time, to the imperious demands of the polar gale. If it would have been at all safe to have thrown open any of his ports, nothing worth while could have been done with his guns. All that was left for him to do, therefore, was to follow on as best he could in the wake of his American prize. This could be done fairly well, for a while, although he was not gaining upon her. Then, however, another of her natural allies interfered, for darkness came over the sea, and his best hope for catching theNoankwent out like an extinguished lantern.
Meantime, the captain had to listen, with undisguised vexation, to his steward's dolorous account of the damage done to the delicacies in the storeroom.
Far away, northerly, that very evening, a patriotic company of Americans had gathered in a large and pretty well-lighted room. Adjoining this were several other rooms, large and small, which were occupied in very much the same manner. The house was the old Ledyard mansion at New London, and all these women and girls had gathered there, with one accord, for work, and not for fun. The brave owner of the homestead, Colonel William Ledyard, was absent upon an errand to Boston, and there were hardly any grown-up men in the assembly. There were boys, indeed, brimming with patriotism, and these were evidently feeling more than ordinarily warlike as they helped their grandmothers, and mothers, and sisters, and aunts at the peculiar industry which had brought them together.
It was neither a sewing society, nor a quilting bee, nor an apple paring. There could not, however, have been more activity or cheerfulness, even at a corn husking, and yet the cause of all this enthusiasm and energy was serious indeed. All the busy fingers in these rooms were putting up ball cartridges with the powder and lead captured by Lyme Avery in theWindsor.
"What a pity it is that we cannot send them to Washington," said one of the workers. "He will need them all pretty soon."
"I hope we'll never need them here," responded another, "but I suppose the forts must be provided. The British may come. They have good reasons for hating New London."
"It hath many bad people in it," came sarcastically from beyond the table in the middle of the room. "I fear there is very little love here for our good king. We think too little of all that he is trying to do for us."
"Rachel Tarns," exclaimed Mrs. Ten Eyck, near her, "there's more news from New York just in. Your good king is stirring up the Six Nations again. There will be more trouble on that frontier."
"Not right away, I think," replied the Quakeress. "I have much faith that the peaceful red men will remain in their wigwams during such weather as this is. Should they not do so, I fear lest some of them might be hurt by the frontiersmen, even if they are not frost-bitten."
"That's what I'm afraid of," said one of the larger boys. "Old Put ought to be there. Washington used to be an Indian fighter. Killed lots of 'em. I guess there won't any of 'em trouble us folks in Connecticut."
"Thee is only a boy," laughed Rachel. "Thy Old Put could tell thee of troubles with the red men not so very far away from this place. Thy own house is upon land that once belonged to them. What would thee do if they should come to take it away from thee?"
"I'd fight!" said the youngster. "My father's with Washington and my brother's with Putnam. Mother and I are ready to shoot if any of 'em come near our house."
"Rachel," said Mrs. Ten Eyck, "how is thy conscience this evening? How is it that a Quaker can make cartridges?"
"I will tell thee," said Rachel. "I have it upon my mind that the more cartridges we make, if they are used well, also, the sooner will this wicked war be brought to an end. Thou knowest that the testimony of the Friends is given for peace. Therefore do I rely much upon that good friend, George Washington. He gave a strengthening testimony at Trenton and Princeton."
Everybody had become accustomed to the dry and often bitter sayings of the old Quakeress, and now a white-haired woman across the room suddenly exclaimed:—
"Hear that wind! O dear! I wasn't thinking of redskins. So many of our boys are at sea. Mine are with Lyme Avery. What wouldn't I give to know just how they're doing!"
"Why, they are sailing south," replied Mrs. Avery. "If this storm reaches 'em, it'll send 'em along. Lyme is used to rough weather."
Brave was she, and very brave were they all, and the "cartridge bee," as they called it, was a good illustration of the stubborn spirit of freedom which made it impossible to conquer the colonies.
"The forts'll be safer," they said, as they packed up their dangerous work and prepared to scatter to their homes through the icy storm. "We must come and roll cartridges two evenings every week. Some of the boys are putting in all their time to moulding bullets."
All of those boys were growing, too, and some who were only fit to melt lead and run bullets at fourteen or fifteen would be in the ranks before the end of the war. They would be Continental soldiers, for instance, at such fights as that at Yorktown. Any country becomes safer while its boys are eager to grow up for its defence, and are all the while taking lessons that will prepare them for efficiency.
The next morning dawned quietly upon both land and sea. The norther had blown itself out, and it had brought no great amount of snow with it anywhere. It had been severe while it lasted, and then it had departed, like any other unwelcome guest.
The streets of New London were cold and snowy, but they were not by any means dreary or deserted that morning.
One more ocean prize had been brought in, and the report of it had gone out in all directions. The sleighing was good over the country roads, and the number of teams hitched along the sides of the lower streets testified to the general hunger for news as well as for trade. The sociability of all these arriving sleighing parties was tremendous, and they seemed to be all of one mind concerning the events of the day. That is, the one-mindedness here was exactly like, and yet exactly opposed, to the one-mindedness which ruled upon Manhattan Island, not so far away. Whigs here, Tories there, were equally earnest, determined, and hopeful.
In New York as in New London, it was currently reported that a number of the more active business men were actually making fortunes by the war. Not a great many rebel vessels had been brought into New York harbor as prizes, but all that did come in, and that were condemned and sold, offered opportunities for speculation. The best of the town trade came from the army and navy, but there were still a few small driblets coming in from the interior. It was worthy of note, perhaps, that furs, for instance, should sometimes reach New York from the north, from regions beyond Albany. These were smuggled down the Hudson River, nobody knew how. It had been suggested, of course, by sharp people, that American commanders might be willing to shut their eyes while a fur trader went in, provided they were to have a talk with him on his return.
In like manner, it was said, the British generals had no objections whatever to the arrival of fellows who were certified to them as "well-known Tories," who could give them abundant information concerning the ragged, starving, worthless condition of the rebel forces in and above the Hudson highlands.
No doubt, too, it was encouraging to the military and other servants of the king to hear, from honest and loyal fur traders, how the rebels of the Mohawk Valley were dispirited by the defeats of Washington's army, and how they were preparing to turn against the Continental Congress. Best of all, perhaps, was the assurance thus brought that all the Six Nations and the Hurons of the woods were ready to take the war-path in the spring as the allies of England.
If there were sailors ashore on leave that morning, from many of the other ships in the harbor, there were none from theTermagant, for she was under orders to sail. Captain Luke Watts himself had a call of ceremony to make, at an early hour, relating to those very orders, for he was to give in his last report of the condition of his ship and crew. The "port captain," to whom his report was to be made, was the commander of a lordly seventy-four. In the absence of any admiral he was the "commodore" of all the naval forces in and about the harbor.
Captain Watts was kept on deck in waiting for a few minutes only, and when he was summoned to the cabin he found the commodore by no means alone. The mere skipper of a transport was not asked to take a seat in such a presence, and Luke stood, hat in hand, respectfully, while his presented papers were read and approved.
"Now, Watts," said the commodore, "what course do you take, homeward bound?"
"As far no'th as I can get, sir," replied Luke, "for good reasons."
"Give your reasons."
"Well, sir, from what I heard at New London, the rebel pirates are aimin' at our West Injy trade. They'll hang 'round the reg'lar course, too, the southern track. I jest mean to steer out o' their way."
"Good!" said the commodore. "What else did you hear among the Yankees?"
"Well, sir," replied the Tory sailor, "they said, and they seemed to know, that our cruisers off the Havana are mostly heavy craft that can't chase 'em through the channels and over the shoals and 'mong the lagoons. What we need, sir, is a lot o' light draft vessels there, and well armed, too."
"Make a note of all this, lieutenant," exclaimed the commodore. "This man Watts has brought in good advice before this. Whatever he brings is said to be of practical value. Go on, man! What next?"
"Well, sir," said Watts, "before I left Liverpool the last time, I heard a p'int. I must look sharp after I get over and want to run in. I must say it, sir, the Irish and English coast is only half guarded. We haven't half enough ships on duty there. Next we know, we'll hear of Yankee pirates in St. George's Channel."
"Note it! note it!" exclaimed the commodore, loudly. "It's just so! What with so many of our best cruisers ordered to America and the Antilles and the Mediterranean, and to the China seas, our own home coasts are left to be defended by old hulks and mere revenue cutters. The Yankees can run away from the heavy tubs, and they can smash all the smuggler catchers. We shall hear bad news, next. Watts, take your own course. Get in how you can. You're a man we can rely on. Go, now, sir."
"My ship'll get in, sir," said Luke, almost too sturdily. "I wish I was as sure 'bout some others. I'm afraid they're going to crack our traders 'mong the islands."
"That'll do! Go!" he was told, and he went out, leaving behind him a very capable naval officer in a decidedly uncomfortable state of mind.
"Gentlemen," he said to his officers, "all that he says is only too true. I am sorry it is, but I am intending to embody it in my report to the Admiralty. The unpleasant thing for us is, however, that we can't spare anything or send anything, from this fleet and station, to prevent the mischief that's threatened among the Antilles."
They all agreed with him. All of them considered, also, that the man Luke Watts had given valuable information and suggestions. He had done so, doubtless, but he had not thereby done anything to hinder the future operations of any Yankee privateer.
He was rowed back to theTermagant, and when he arrived somebody was waiting for him on her deck.
"Feller named Allen," he was told by a sailor at the rail. "He's a kind o' fur pedler, I'd say, with a permit from one o' the generals, I don't know who."
"All right," said Watts. "Fetch him below, packs and all. I'll see if his papers are reg'lar. We don't make any loose work on this ship."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the sailor.
Sharp as was his examination of them a moment later, he seemed to be entirely satisfied with the documents presented to him by the man named Allen. He had obtained the customary authority, as a loyal merchant of the port of New York, to ship by theTermagantto his agent in London, a properly scheduled assortment of valuable furs. All had been officially inspected and approved.
"Come down below," said Captain Watts. "All your packages are down. I'll give these things another overhauling in my cabin."
"Certainly, Captain Watts," replied Mr. Allen. "Whatever you wish."
He was even willing to help carry down the furs, and one of the smaller parcels of them was in his hand when they reached the cabin. He still held it after the door was shut and bolted, leaving him and the captain alone together. Then his entire manner changed somewhat suddenly, and he threw his parcel down upon the table.
"Captain Luke Watts," he said, "that's it. You'd best take out the papers, now, and stow 'em away somewhere. You ain't sure there won't be another look taken at the furs 'fore you git away. I wouldn't risk it. They're getting suspicious, all 'round."
Open came the parcel, as he spoke, and in the very middle of it lay a bundle of such materials as would ordinarily have been sent through a post-office.
"It's about all the cargo I'll have, of any consequence," remarked Luke, staring down at the unexpected mail.
"General Schuyler told me to say," replied Allen, "that all these are of great importance. Some are from him to his friends in England. You'll know how to have 'em delivered. Some are to go to Holland and some to Paris. That last is all the way from the Congress at Philadelphia. It got to me by way of Morristown and one of our Jersey Tories, you know. That's old Ben Franklin's own handwriting."
"I'll see that they go straight through," said Luke, quietly. "I'll put 'em safe away, now, first thing."
"You'll swing at a yard-arm inside o' one day, if you're ketched with 'em," said Allen. "I've been up among the Six Nations, all the way through to Niagara, for my brother's concern on Pearl Street. I went to buy furs for them, you see, and did first-rate. I fetched along packs o' news, too, for the British commanders. It was risky business, working my way through Putnam's lines, though. I came pretty nigh to being shot or hung by the rebels, you know."
"Ye-es, I know," responded Luke. "They came jest about as nigh as that to hangin' me, they did. The bloodthirsty pirates! Get ashore, now, Allen. I'll land your furs for ye. I hope your concern'll make a good thing out of 'em."
"Finest furs you ever saw," laughed Allen. "Look out for spies and searchers. Here's good success to good King George—Washington, and may the glorious flag of England float victoriously—till we pull it down! Luke Watts, I'm the poisonest kind of Tory, I am!"
"Jest like me," said Watts. "I've done all I can to put down this 'ere wicked rebellion."
"I've heard so," said Allen. "We got the news all the way from Connecticut. You delivered a whole ship's cargo of heavy guns and muskets and ammunition to the loyal-hearted Tories of New London. I was born there once, myself. I know just how faithfully they love their king and his blessed Parliament. Good-by, Luke! A successful voyage to you. Keep out o' the way of pirates."
"I must, this time," said Watts. "If I don't, I'll never get another ship to carry furs and things in."
Up on deck they went, and the last words uttered by Allen did not have to be whispered.
"Take good care of your neck, Captain," he called out, from his boat. "If you're caught, this time, you'll never see New York again, or Marblehead, either."
"I guess he's about right," said Mate Brackett, gazing after the boat. "I'd say you seem to be a man that the rebels have set a mark on."
"Never you mind," said Watts. "We won't be ketched by 'em, that's all. The commodore says we may sail our own course. We'll git there."
"All right, sir," said Brackett. "We've a queer lot o' chaps with us this trip, but we'll work 'em."
What he meant by that was that all the prime seamen were needed by the war-ships, and that almost anything on two feet had been deemed good enough for an old transport ship going home in ballast.
"We'll have to travel under light canvas, I take it," remarked Brackett, as he looked at his crew. "It'd be all night and part o' next day for them to shorten sail in a hurry."
The boat which carried Mr. Allen, the loyal fur trader, reached the shore. On getting out of it, he walked until he came to a dwelling a short distance easterly from what the fire had left of old Pearl Street. He entered without knocking and passed through the house to the kitchen in the rear, where a comely, middle-aged woman stood before an open fireplace, watching a pot which was hanging on the crane.
"Sally Allen," he said, in a somewhat low and guarded tone, "the captain took the furs. It's all right."
"It is if they don't find him out," she said, gloomily. "I think you are running awful risks, Tom. The sooner you are back again in the Mohawk Valley, the better for you."
"I shall get there," he told her; "that is, if I'm not shot before I pass the Dunderberg. I mustn't stay here, though. I must be in a canoe at Spuyten Duyvil Creek before morning."
"They make short work of spies, Tom," she said. "Think of what they did to Nathan Hale. I used to know him, years ago, in New London."
"Sally," he said, "I want you to mark just one thing. He isn't forgotten! One o' these days there'll be some first-rate British officer captured, a good deal as Hale was, with papers on him, playing spy. Whenever that happens, our side won't show any mercy. The spy'll have to swing!"
"That's all wrong!" she exclaimed. "I hate to think of it. All revenge is wicked. It's awful to think of killing one man because somebody somewhere else killed another."
"Now, Sally, that isn't it exactly," replied Tom. "What we mean is that all the spy hanging isn't to be done on one side o' this war. What's right for them is right for us."
"No!" she said. "It isn't so! It's like so many red savages to talk in that way. We don't take scalps, just because they do, nor kill women and children. I'm a true American woman, and I believe in righting, but I don't want any stain left on our side."
"There won't be any," said Tom. "I'm going ahead, if they do hang me. I'm running Nathan Hale's risk, all the while."
"God protect you!" she said. "Do you feel sure you can creep through?"
"I've done it before," he replied. "What I'm thinking of, the worst thing for me, is the new line of pickets along the river bank. I shall be fired at, pretty sure, before I can paddle on into the Hudson Narrows. There'll be some risk from our own pickets above Anthony's Nose. I guess they'll all miss me. I've one package, though; that's all weighted, ready to drop into the water if I'm exhausted. I'd make out to sink it, if I was dying. Now, give me some supper."
"Oh, Tom!" she said, "God keep us!"