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The Ocean Cat's Paw: The Story of a Strange Cruise, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 46. A Knot In The Network |
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_ CHAPTER FORTY SIX. A KNOT IN THE NETWORK Incredulity was impossible, although at first it was very hard to believe. But there was the fact. They had been wandering through the sluggish network of streams of a vast tropic, marshy forest, until a tremendous storm in the hinterland had flooded the low country and they had been swept out again far away from the spot where the Spanish captain had guided them in, and, as they were soon to learn, for reasons of his own. Without question they had descended some miles along the main river, which ran swiftly, burdened as it was by the waters of the flood, but not sufficiently to do more than raise it to a rather abnormal height. Still it was not safe to continue their journey downward by night, and in spite of the anxiety of all, the boat was moored to a huge tree up which the water had risen some three or four feet, and all anxiously watched for the coming of the next day. They slept but little, for there was so much to discuss, the doctor feeling now sure that when they missed the Spanish captain it must have been because when all were asleep he had stolen down to where the two blacks would be waiting for him with their canoe, and then gone on up the river beyond their camp. "But I don't see quite what for, uncle," said Rodd. "I do," cried Moray. "He knew the country so well, and our ignorance, which would make us go wandering helplessly about, while he knew of a nearer way out into this river again, through which we seem to have been providentially swept." "That's right--quite right, Moray," said the doctor. "You see now, Rodd?" "Yes, uncle, it's quite clear now. I wish I wasn't so dense. Do you see, Joe?" "I didn't afore, sir; but it's all as clear as crystal now, and I should just like to explain it to the lads. My word, gentlemen! That chap's been running up a big bill again hisself, and when we get hold of him he'll have to pay!" "What are you thinking of, Moray?" said Rodd, a little while after, while they were sitting listening in the darkness to the murmur of Joe's voice forward as he was explaining matters to the men. "I was thinking," said Moray gravely, "of how long it would be before it is day." The longest night comes to an end, and the breaking of that next day showed the river much sunken and pretty well at its normal tidal height; and with four men rowing steadily the boat glided downward, with the sun when it rose showing first one and then another landmark which seemed familiar; but after their one journey upward no one present could recall how far they were above the careening place. Again and again as they passed round some great bend Moray rose from his seat, and, as Rodd afterwards told him, made them all miserable by gazing wildly downwards in the expectation of catching sight of the brig, or of seeing his father in his boat coming upward in search of the missing ones, who had quite outstepped the time that their stay was to last. It was always the same; the poor fellow sank back into his place wearily, his countenance drawn and a look of despair in his eyes. At such times Rodd would watch his opportunity, steal his hand quietly along, and give Morny's arm a long and friendly grip, with the result that the dim eyes would brighten a little and dart a grateful glance in the English lad's direction. The journey downwards seemed endless, and proved to be far longer than any one there anticipated. But just as the longest and darkest watch nights come to their end, so it was here, when, skimming along under sail, taking long reaches, for the wind was abeam, all at once Joe Cross, who was the first to see, sang out a loud and hearty-- "Ship ahoy!" "Hah!" cried Morny. "Do you see the brig?" "No, sir," replied the man, as Morny, the doctor and Rodd shaded their eyes and gazed down-stream; "I can't make out the brig." "Oh, you don't half look," cried Rodd. "There's the Spanish schooner, and ours, and just beyond them, half hidden by the trees and land, there are the tops of the masts of the brig. Hurrah, Morny! She's all right, afloat, and--Here, what are you looking that way for?" "Because I can't see her," said the French lad despairingly. "There is something wrong." "Why, my dear old chap," cried Rodd, "you can't see well, because of the trees, but as we get farther out, there she lies, to the left, with her two masts as plain as plain." "I can see those two masts you mean," said Morny sternly, "but they are low-down raking masts; the _Dagobert's_ are much higher, and stand up stiffer than those. Do you forget she's square-rigged? Why, that's a schooner." "So it is," cried Rodd. "I was deceived by the two yards on her foremast. But look here, it can't be another schooner. Captain Chubb may have been altering her rig when he got her upright again. Why, of course! It must be so. There can't be three schooners there. They must have had some accident to the brig's mainmast when they raised her again. Broke her topgallant, perhaps, and rigged her fore and aft." "Not they, Mr Rodd, sir. Our old man would have cut a spar somewhere from the forest and rigged her square, if it was only a jury-mast. 'Sides, they'd got spare spars on board, same as we. That's another schooner. You can see her clearer now--a long low one, with masts that rake more than the Spanish skipper's vessel. Strikes me as we shall find that for some reason or another they haven't got the brig afloat." "Another schooner, Joe?" cried Morny passionately. "The brig not finished? For some reason or another! What reason? What does it all mean?" "Be calm, my lad; be calm," cried the doctor. "In a very little while we shall know the worst, or the best. Mind, we know nothing as yet. It is all suspicion. For aught we can say to the contrary, that man whom we have condemned may be innocent, misjudged by us, and now be lying at the bottom of the river where we missed him in that mysterious way." Morny bowed his head and tried to look gratefully at the doctor; but his agony was too great, and he stood there till their boat had got to the end of its tack and swung round in the other direction, when with shaded eyes he gazed before him wildly, trying to get a view beyond where the three schooners could now be plainly seen, anchored in mid-stream. But for some time the curvature of the river put this out of the question, and to break the painful silence the doctor said quietly-- "Another long low schooner, with raking masts. But it may be only another trader, anchored in company with the rest." "Ah," cried Morny to Joe Cross, "you see something more than we do!" For the man, who was looking out from beyond the sail, suddenly gave a start and angrily slapped his thigh. "Well, I'm very sorry, sir; but yes, I do. The brig's lying careened right over, just as she was when we started on our trip." "But look here, Morny," cried the doctor; "that may mean nothing more than that she is not finished yet. Remember, to those we left we are missing, and in their anxiety about our lengthened stay they may have started up-stream to find us." "You are saying this to comfort me," cried Morny passionately. "No, doctor; we have got to face the worst. It is not so." It seemed cruelty to prolong the conversation, and soon after the order was given to lower the sail and unstep the mast, for the wind had pretty well dropped as they swept in towards where the vessels were anchored, and the distance being short, the men took to their oars once more, while, with no impediment to their view, the doctor took out his glass and offered it to Morny. But the lad made a quick gesture, and sat back looking straight before him, while the doctor used the glass himself, gazing with it first at the brig, about whose hull no one was visible, while all seemed still on board the three schooners. "Take a look, Rodney," said the doctor aloud, as he handed the glass. "I can see nothing wrong." Rodd eagerly took the glass, raised it to his eyes, and said quietly-- "Why, I can't see a soul on board the _Sally_, uncle, and the people on the other schooners must be asleep. They haven't seen us yet--Yes, they have!" he cried. "The men are hurrying up on our vessel from below, but--" "But what, my boy?" "I--I don't quite know, uncle. Something isn't right. Oh, Morny, what have I said?" As the boy spoke he let the glass drop to the full length of his arm, and in all probability it would have fallen to the bottom of the boat had not Joe Cross caught it in his hand. "May I look, sir?" he said sharply, and without waiting for consent, he raised it to his eyes and quickly scanned all three of the schooners in turn. "It's no use beating about, gentlemen," he said sharply. "Something is wrong, for all three decks are swarming now with men like bees--wasps, I ought to say," he muttered, as he concentrated his gaze upon the _Maid of Salcombe_. "Our vessel, doctor, is in the hands of pirates, or slavers, and they are making ready the long gun. Now, my lads, look alive. Every man buckle on his arms and then load." The oars were allowed to swing from the tholes, and the boat was left to glide slowly downwards, while in their smart orderly way her crew prepared for action. "You will load too, gentlemen--with ball. Now, doctor, will you take command and lead us?" "What to do?" asked the doctor. "Why, to take our schooner again, sir. She's in the hands of an enemy." "But is it possible that we can do this, Cross?" cried the doctor. "I don't know, sir, for she's got a lot of men on board; but we have got to try." "Stop. Let me think," said the doctor. "I am no man of war, and this is not in my way. If any unfortunate fellow were wounded I could do my best. But look here, my lads; you are nearly all men-of-war's men, and you, Morny, you are a naval officer. Seeing the odds before us, what is our duty here?" "To fight," cried the young man passionately, through his clenched teeth. "Ay, ay, sir!" came heartily from the men; and as the doctor turned his eyes inquiringly upon Rodd, who was fiercely ramming the second bullet upon the small shot already in the two barrels of his gun, he saw a look in the lad's face that he had never seen there before, and in spite of the pain of the situation, he felt a thrill of satisfaction running through his breast at the thought that, young as his nephew was, he was English to the core. "Yes," said the doctor, "we must fight; but with such odds against us we must bring cunning to bear." "Ay, ay, sir! That's right," cried Cross. "But perhaps, as we've got right on our side and only a set of mongrels before us, a good bold dash to board them will make us as strong as they. I say, sir, if you will let me lead, we will try and take our schooner, give them a broadside of bullets when we get close up, and then out steel and board her like men. Once over her side, there won't be many of them left on deck at the end of five minutes; and as soon as we have got her and the use of her guns, if we don't sink them other two pirates I have never been to sea." "That's right, Joe," came in chorus, as, standing in the bows with one hand upon his gun, the other upon his right hip, he looked the very perfection of a British man-of-war's man, ready to lead or be led, wherever duty called. Then, as if inspired by his appearance, the crew burst out into a ringing cheer, helped by the two lads, while the doctor took off and waved his straw hat as he joined in. _Bang_--_thud_! A great grey puff of smoke started from the schooner's deck and a ball came skipping in their direction over the smooth stream. "Well, I do call that too bad," cried Joe, as the men uttered a deep-toned "Yah-h-h!" "Arter the way in which I cared for you and kept you clean, to go and behave like that!" "Well, poor dumb beast," growled Briggs, "she don't know no better." "Do you call that dumb?" cried Joe, merrily enough. "Well, I s'pose she was obliged; but I don't think much of their gunnery, messmates," continued the man, as he made use of the glass again. "Oh, they're all at work, sir, re-loading, and it will soon be our turn. I propose, sir, that we let them give us another shot, and then dash in before they have time to re-load. They won't hit us; will they, boys?" "Not they!" came in chorus; but the next moment there was another report, and a smaller ball struck the water so near the boat that the spray was sent flying over them. "They've got the two small guns to bear, sir," said Joe quietly, "and there's somebody aboard as knows how to aim." He had hardly ceased speaking when there was another puff of smoke from the schooner's deck, accompanied by a whizzing, shrieking sound through the air just above their heads, while before they had glided with the stream another dozen yards there was a puff of smoke from the three-master's deck, followed directly after by a puff from the strange schooner, and as the reports of the two heavy guns were echoed from the great walls of verdure upon the river's bank, the air over their heads seemed full of shrieking missiles. "Grape and broken iron," growled Joe Cross. "Take the tiller, Harry Briggs. Step the mast, my lads, and run up the sail. Don't take no notice of their shot. It don't do to go mad, even if we do want to fight. Don't go to sleep over it, boys. We are in the breeze again, and we must run into shelter and think." A low growl came from the men as they rapidly obeyed orders, and not a man seemed to flinch as the long gun of the English schooner sent forth its heavy missile again, this time to strike the water some distance ahead and then rise and go crashing amongst the trees, whose leaves could be seen to come pattering down. Three more shots came skipping over the river before the boat began to glide swiftly, under the pressure of her sail, and yells of derision came ringing from the enemy as they saw the effect of their fire and the effort being made to escape. "Ah!" half sighed Rodd. "They've left off." "Ay, sir," said the coxswain. "They know they can't hit us now we are flying through the water; and the worst of it is, they think we are afraid and that we English dogs are running away as hard as we can, with our tails between our legs. But they aren't, sir; they're a-standing up stiff and at right angles, as our old man calls it, to our backs; eh, messmates?" "Ay, ay, Joe!" came from the crew, with a roar of laughter. "And as for my teeth--our teeth, I mean--they are about as sharp as sharp. But we have got the wind with us, gentlemen, and we will just run up-stream and round the bend yonder, so as to get behind the trees just somewhere where we can keep watch with that there little spy-glass, and by and by we will have another try. This go they a'n't played fair, but next time we'll make 'em." "How, Joe?" cried Rodd. "Well, sir, my idea is to tackle 'em man to man when they can't use their guns. I mean when it's too dark for them to aim; and then we can drop down upon them, or sail up to them fore or aft or either side, and them not know where to have us. It won't be shooting then, but cold steel, as we know how to use. Well, think of that now!" cried the man, as the boat was now literally skimming over the surface. "Call myself a leader! Why, as true as I am here, I never once thought of firing a shot. Why, we might have given them one volley, messmates. I don't suppose we should have hit, with them behind the bulwarks, but we might have startled the beggars at the guns. Never mind; we have saved our gunpowder. A man must miss sometimes, and this has been a bad 'un. Next time, though, my lads, we must make it a hit." The sailor ceased speaking, for his eyes had suddenly lighted upon Morny's face, and, as he afterwards said to Rodd, "Blest, sir, it sent a regular chill through me, for in all the hooroar of that job I forgot all about his father and our old man. But never say die, sir. They may have got away in one of the boats and be coasting along out to sea." _ |
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