The Perils and Adventures of Harry Skipwith by Land and Sea. Kingston William Henry Giles

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СКАЧАТЬ hurrah! there is the captain casting loose our little barkers – we are not to yield without a blow.”

      By this time all sail was set – the guns were manned, and the captain now served out arms to all on board.

      The pirates, however, on seeing that notwithstanding all our efforts we could not escape them, did not again fire. Our two guns could do very little harm to them till they got nearer. They were run over on the starboard side, on which the schooner was approaching.

      “Aim high, lads,” said the captain to his two mates who had charge of them. “Our best chance will be to knock away some of his spars.”

      “Ay, aye, sir,” was the answer, given in a cheerful voice, which, at all events, betrayed no fear.

      It was satisfactory to feel that we were to have a stroke for life, and yet, as the schooner drew near, and I observed through my glass the villainous-looking, well-armed fellows who crowded her decks, and saw the size of her guns, I felt that we had but little chance of escaping.

      “Now, lads, see what you can do,” cried the captain, who was narrowly watching the schooner.

      Our two pop-guns gave out their puffs of smoke, and a couple of holes in the enemy’s sails showed that the aim had not been bad, but no other damage was done.

      Still the schooner did not fire, but came silently and stealthily gliding on in a way which was much more calculated to try our courage than if her crew had been shouting and gesticulating. It showed that they had perfect confidence in their own power. The mates loaded and fired their guns again. An after mainbrace aboard the schooner was shot away, and it made her head incline a little more towards us.

      We were now almost within pistol-shot of each other, when I saw some thirty muskets levelled at us, and the next instant a rattling shower of bullets came whistling round our heads. Several of our poor fellows fell: the rest fired in return, but before the smoke cleared away, with a loud crash the pirate ran us aboard, and fifty fierce-looking desperadoes sprang shouting on our deck.

      I had armed myself with a cutlass, resolving to fight to the last, though fully expecting to be cut to pieces. Ready stood barking furiously on one side of me; Peter kept on the other. Captain Buckwheat proved that he was a man, but he was cut down by a pirate’s sword, as was one of the mates close to me, and in less than a minute half our crew lay bleeding on the deck. Our opponents were mostly blacks – though there were brown fellows also – and as they were shouting in English, I concluded that they were either runaway American slaves or vagabond negroes from the West India Islands. Not that I thought much about what they were at the time; indeed, the grinding of the two vessels together, the cries and shrieks of the combatants, the smoke and rattle of firearms, and the fall of spars and blocks from aloft completely bewildered me, besides which all my energies were required for my own defence.

      Scarcely an instant after the pirates had reached our decks, I found myself set on by a huge brown fellow, who had led the boarders, and was apparently an officer among them. He was a good swordsman, and had not Ready flown at his legs, and Peter kept poking at him with a boarding-pike, he would soon have put me hors de combat. With their aid I managed to defend myself till several other fellows set upon me, and, overmatched, the big pirate had his sword uplifted to cut me down, when a black man sprang forward and interposed his own weapon between it and my head, shouting at the same time —

      “Back, all of you. That man’s life is sacred, and the lad’s too. You’ll own it when I tell you.”

      It was a thoroughly melodramatic position. Though he was now dressed as an officer, I instantly recognised in my deliverer, Marcus, the slave, whose life I had assisted to save.

      The pirates, who were about to hack me to pieces, now surrounded me with friendly gestures, and I felt that I was safe. When, however, I looked about me, I saw with regret that not a single man of the crew had escaped: a few were gasping out their heart’s blood on deck; the rest were dead. I should by that time have been in the same condition had not Marcus interposed to save me. Ready recognised him immediately, but he snapped and growled at the other blacks as they passed. Poor Peter kept close to my side; though so ready at first to fight, he was unaccustomed to scenes of slaughter, and was terror-stricken with the horrors he had witnessed.

      Marcus kept near us, sword in hand, evidently uncertain how the pirates might treat us, and prepared, if necessary, to do battle in our cause. I wished to address him – I scarcely knew how.

      “Marcus,” I said at length, “I am grateful to you for saving my life, but I little expected to find you in such company.”

      “‘Misfortune introduces us to strange bedfellows’ is an old saying,” he answered. “And most decidedly my misfortunes have given me some roughish companions; but you see I have already gained some influence over them; and of one thing be assured, your life and that of the lad are safe. When I tell them what you have done for me, there is not a man of all this lawless band who would not be ready to die for you. One hideous monster, slavery, has made them all what they are; and when they know how you hate it, they will love you.”

      While Marcus was speaking, the pirates were unceremoniously pitching the dead bodies of my shipmates overboard – all of them yet warm – some who had scarcely ceased to breathe. Two or three, though badly wounded, were yet fully capable of comprehending their position. They begged – they entreated for life.

      “What are you – Englishmen or Americans?”

      Two owned that they were Americans from the Northern States.

      “Then overboard with them,” shouted the captain. “We’ll not deprive the sharks of their share of the booty.”

      One man declared that he was an Englishman, but a tin case was found on him, containing a certificate of his being a citizen of the United States. I was certain, from some remarks which he had let fall, that the man had run from a British man-of-war. In vain he protested that he hated slavery and the people of the States, that he was a true-born Briton – in vain he shrieked out and entreated for mercy. In spite of his desperate struggles, he was lifted up and thrown among the shoal of black-finned monsters which surrounded the vessel. I cannot dwell longer on these horrors – I would gladly shut them out from my thoughts as I would then have done from my sight.

      The schooner’s crew were sufficiently numerous to man the brig more strongly than before; some more guns were sent on board her, that part of her cargo which seemed useless thrown overboard, and the two vessels then made sail together. I was allowed to retain my cabin, and Peter had one awarded him aft, that he might be near me.

      Marcus came on board as one of the officers of the prize. I asked him how he came to know enough of nautical affairs to take a command among the pirates.

      “I picked up my knowledge on my voyage to England,” he answered. “Besides, a very small amount of knowledge makes me superior to most of my companions. Only two or three know anything of navigation, and that very imperfectly. The captain knows most, and he is jealous of any equal. If he were to be killed, the rest would scarcely find their way into a port; but for that he does not care.”

      “But, Marcus,” said I, “how can you, a man capable of better things, endure such a life?”

      “I hate it,” he answered bitterly. “Recollect, though, what drove me to it. To escape from the lash and chains, from indignities and insults, what will not a man endure?”

      “Will you leave it?” I asked.

      “Yes, certainly, if I have the means,” he answered.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ