The Noank's Log Part 11

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 gla.s.s. "Bad! _Noank_ 'tay in. One war-s.h.i.+p.

One, two, three, four other s.h.i.+p."

"Men-of-war and the convoy!" exclaimed Prentice. "Lyme Avery! Here they are! Come this way! If the redskin hasn't sighted 'em!"

"s.h.i.+p o' line," now remarked Up-na-tan. "Frigate. Little gun s.h.i.+p."

"Let me take the gla.s.s," 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 Was.h.i.+ngton."

"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 fis.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+p.

In came the sails of the _Noank_, 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 gla.s.ses 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-s.h.i.+ps 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 s.h.i.+ps, big and little. I calc'late, the more of 'em there is, the better for us. I'm goin' to run the _Noank_ right 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 s.h.i.+ps, 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 a.s.sort and arrange his lanterns.

"Sam," he said, "I guess I'll answer that call to close up with the flag-s.h.i.+p. 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 s.h.i.+p, 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 flas.h.i.+ng 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-s.h.i.+p after war-s.h.i.+p told her character by responding with a similar rocket, the merchantmen keeping quiet, and then from the flag-s.h.i.+p 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!"

"s.h.i.+p ahoy!" came out of the gloom beyond them. "_Amphitrite_! What s.h.i.+p'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! Pa.s.sed 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!"