Martin Rattler Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  THE VOYAGE, A PIRATE, CHASE, WRECK, AND ESCAPE

  Time reconciles a man to almost anything. In the course of time MartinRattler became reconciled to his fate, and went about the ordinary dutiesof a cabin-boy on board the _Firefly_ just as if he had been appointed tothat office in the ordinary way,--with the consent of the owners and bythe advice of his friends. The captain, Skinflint by name, and as surlyan old fellow as ever walked a quarter-deck, agreed to pay him wages "ifhe behaved well." The steward, under whose immediate authority he wasplaced, turned out to be a hearty, good-natured young fellow, and wasvery kind to him. But Martin's great friend was Barney O'Flannagan, thecook, with whom he spent many an hour in the night watches, talking overplans, and prospects, and retrospects, and foreign lands.

  As Martin had no clothes except those on his back, which fortunatelyhappened to be new and good, Barney gave him a couple of blue stripedshirts, and made him a jacket, pantaloons, and slippers of canvas; and,what was of much greater importance, taught him how to make and mend thesame for himself.

  "Ye see, Martin, lad," he said, while thus employed one day, many weeksafter leaving port, "it's a great thing, intirely, to be able to helpyerself. For my part, I niver travel without my work-box in my pocket."

  "Your work-box!" said Martin, laughing.

  "Jist so. An' it consists of wan sail-maker's needle, a ball o' twine,and a clasp-knife. Set me down with these before a roll o' canvas andI'll make you a'most anything."

  "You seem to have a turn for everything, Barney," said Martin. "How cameyou to be a cook?"

  "That's more nor I can tell ye, lad. As far as I remimber, I began withmurphies, when I was two feet high, in my father's cabin in ould Ireland.But that was on my own account intirely, and not as a purfession; and asorrowful time I had of it, too, for I was for iver burnin' my fingerspromiskiously, and fallin' into the fire ivery day more or less--"

  "Stand by to hoist top-gallant-sails," shouted the captain. "How'sher head?"

  "South and by east, sir," answered the man at the wheel.

  "Keep her away two points. Look alive lads. Hand me the glass, Martin."

  The ship was close hauled when these abrupt orders were given, battlingin the teeth of a stiff breeze, off the coast of South America. Aboutthis time, several piratical vessels had succeeded in cutting off anumber of merchantmen near the coast of Brazil. They had not only takenthe valuable parts of their cargoes, but had murdered the crews undercircumstances of great cruelty; and ships trading to these regions were,consequently, exceedingly careful to avoid all suspicious craft as muchas possible. It was, therefore, with some anxiety that the men watchedthe captain's face as he examined the strange sail through the telescope.

  "A Spanish schooner," muttered the captain, as he shut up the glass witha bang. "I won't trust her. Up with the royals and rig out stun'-sails,Mr. Wilson, (to the mate). Let her fall away, keep her head nor'-west,d'ye hear?"

  "Ay, ay, sir."

  "Let go the lee braces and square the yards. Look sharp, now, lads. Ifthat blackguard gets hold of us ye'll have to walk the plank, everyman of ye."

  In a few minutes the ship's course was completely altered; a cloud ofcanvas spread out from the yards, and the _Firefly_ bounded on her courselike a fresh race-horse. But it soon became evident that the heavy barquewas no match for the schooner, which crowded sail and bore down at a ratethat bade fair to overhaul them in a few hours. The chase continued tillevening, when suddenly the look-out at the mast-head shouted, "Land, ho!"

  "Where away?" cried the captain.

  "Right ahead," sang out the man.

  "I'll run her ashore sooner than be taken," muttered the captain, with anangry scowl at the schooner, which was now almost within range on theweather quarter, with the dreaded black flag flying at her peak. In a fewminutes breakers were descried ahead.

  "D'ye see anything like a passage?" shouted the captain.

  "Yes, sir; two points on the weather bow."

  At this moment a white cloud burst from the schooner's bow, and a shot,evidently from a heavy gun, came ricochetting over the sea. It was wellaimed, for it cut right through the barque's main-mast, just below theyard, and brought the main-top-mast, with all the yards, sails, andgearing above it, down upon the deck. The weight of the wreck, also,carried away the fore-top-mast, and, in a single instant, the _Firefly_was completely disabled.

  "Lower away the boats," cried the captain; "look alive, now; we'll givethem the slip yet. It'll be dark in two minutes."

  The captain was right. In tropical regions there is little or notwilight. Night succeeds day almost instantaneously. Before the boatswere lowered and the men embarked it was becoming quite dark. Theschooner observed the movement, however, and, as she did not dare toventure through the reef in the dark, her boats were also lowered and thechase was recommenced.

  The reef was passed in safety, and now a hard struggle took place, forthe shore was still far distant. As it chanced to be cloudy weather thedarkness became intense, and progress could only be guessed at by thesound of the oars; but these soon told too plainly that the boats of theschooner were overtaking those of the barque.

  "Pull with a will, lads," cried the captain; "we can't be more than halfa mile from shore; give way, my hearties."

  "Surely, captain, we can fight them, we've most of us got pistols andcutlasses," said one of the men in a sulky tone.

  "Fight them!" cried the captain, "they're four times our number, andevery man armed to the teeth. If ye don't fancy walking the plank ordancing on nothing at the yard-arm, ye'd better pull away and holdyour jaw."

  By this time they could just see the schooner's boats in the dim light,about half-musket range astern.

  "Back you' oars," shouted a stern voice in broken English, "or I blow youout de watter in one oder moment,--black-yards!"

  This order was enforced by a musket shot, which whizzed over the boatwithin an inch of the captain's head. The men ceased rowing and the boatsof the pirate ranged close up.

  "Now then, Martin," whispered Barney O'Flannagan, who sat at the bow oar,"I'm goin' to swim ashore; jist you slip arter me as quiet as ye can."

  "But the sharks!" suggested Martin.

  "Bad luck to them," said Barney as he slipped over the side, "they'rewelcome to me. Til take my chance. They'll find me mortial tough, anyhow.Come along, lad, look sharp!"

  Without a moment's hesitation Martin slid over the gunwale into the sea,and, just as the pirate boats grappled with those of the barque, he andBarney found themselves gliding as silently as otters towards the shore.So quietly had the manoeuvre been accomplished, that the men in their ownboat were ignorant of their absence. In a few minutes they were beyondthe chance of detection.

  "Keep close to me, lad," whispered the Irishman. "If we separate in thedarkness we'll niver forgather again. Catch hould o; my shoulder if yeget blowed, and splutter as much as ye like. They can't hear us now, andit'll help to frighten the sharks."

  "All right," replied Martin; "I can swim like a cork in such warm wateras this. Just go a little slower and I'll do famously."

  Thus encouraging each other, and keeping close together, lest they shouldget separated in the thick darkness of the night, the two friends struckout bravely for the shore.