Martin Rattler. Robert Michael Ballantyne
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lad,” he said, while thus employed one day, many weeks after leaving port, “it’s a great thing, intirely, to be able to help yerself. 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 sailmaker’s needle, a ball o’ twine, and a clasp-knife. Set me down with these before a roll o’ canvass and I’ll make ye a’most anything.”
“You seem to have a turn for everything, Barney,” said Martin. “How came you to be a cook?”
“That’s more nor I can tell ye, lad. As far as I remimber, I began with murphies, when I was two foot high, in my father’s cabin in ould Ireland. But that was on my own account intirely, and not as a purfession; and a sorrowful time I had of it too, for I was for iver burnin’ my fingers promiskiously, and fallin’ into the fire ivery day more or less—”
“Stand by to hoist top-gallant-sails,” shouted the captain. “How’s her 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, battling in the teeth of a stiff breeze, off the coast of South America. About this time, several piratical vessels had succeeded in cutting off a number of merchantmen near the coast of Brazil. They had not only taken the valuable parts of their cargoes, but had murdered the crews under circumstances of great cruelty; and ships trading to these regions were, consequently, exceedingly careful to avoid all suspicious craft as much as possible. It was, therefore, with some anxiety that the men watched the captain’s face as he examined the strange sail through the telescope.
“A Spanish schooner,” muttered the captain, as he shut up the glass with a 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’you hear?”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Let go the lee braces and square the yards. Look sharp, now, lads. If that blackguard gets hold of us ye’ll have to walk the plank, every man of ye.”
In a few minutes the ship’s course was completely altered; a cloud of canvass spread out from the yards, and the Firefly bounded on her course like a fresh race-horse. But it soon became evident that the heavy barque was no match for the schooner, which crowded sail and bore down at a rate that bade fair to overhaul them in a few hours. The chase continued till evening, 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 an angry scowl at the schooner, which was now almost within range on the weather quarter, with the dreaded black flag flying at her peak. In a few minutes 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 well aimed, for it cut right through the barque’s main-mast, just below the yard, and brought the main-top-mast, with all the yards, sails, and gearing 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 give them the slip yet. It’ll be dark in two minutes.”
The captain was right. In tropical regions there is little or no twilight. Night succeeds day almost instantaneously. Before the boats were lowered, and the men embarked, it was becoming quite dark. The schooner observed the movement however, and, as she did not dare to venture through the reef in the dark, her boats were also lowered and the chase was recommenced.
The reef was passed in safety, and now a hard struggle took place, for the shore was still far-distant. As it chanced to be cloudy weather the darkness became intense, and progress could only be guessed at by the sound of the oars; but these soon told too plainly that the boats of the schooner were overtaking those of the barque.
“Pull with a will, lads,” cried the captain; “we can’t be more than half a mile from shore; give way, my hearties.”
“Surely, captain, we can fight them, we’ve most of us got pistols and cutlasses,” said one of the men in a sulky tone.
“Fight them!” cried the captain, “they’re four times our number, and every man armed to the teeth. If ye don’t fancy walking the plank or dancing on nothing at the yardarm, ye’d better pull away and hold your 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 you out de watter in one oder moment—black-yards!”
This order was enforced by a musket shot which whizzed over the boat within an inch of the captain’s head. The men ceased rowing and the boats of 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’re welcome to me. I’ll 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 and Barney found themselves gliding as silently as otters towards the shore. So quietly had the manoeuvre been accomplished, that the men in their own boat were ignorant of their absence. In a few minutes they were beyond the chance of detection.
“Keep close to me, lad,” whispered the Irishman. “If we separate in the darkness we’ll niver foregather again. Catch hould o’ my shoulder if ye get blowed, and splutter as much as ye like. They can’t hear us now, and it’ll help to frighten the sharks.”
“All right,” replied Martin; “I can swim like a cork in such warm water as this. Just go a little slower and I’ll do famously.”
Thus encouraging each other, and keeping close together, lest they should get separated in the thick darkness of the night, the two friends struck out bravely for the shore.
Chapter Seven
Martin and Barney get lost in a Great Forest, where they see Strange and Terrible Things
On gaining the beach, the first thing that Barney did, after shaking himself like a huge Newfoundland dog, was to ascertain that his pistol and cutlass were safe; for, although the former could be of no use in its present condition, still, as he sagaciously remarked, “it was a good thing to have, for they might chance to git powder wan day or other, and the flint would make fire, anyhow.” Fortunately the weather was extremely warm; so they were enabled to take off and wring their clothes without much inconvenience, except that in a short time a few adventurous mosquitoes—probably sea-faring ones—came down out of the woods and attacked their bare bodies so vigorously that they were fain to hurry on their clothes again before they were quite dry.
The clouds began to clear away soon after they landed, and the brilliant light of the southern constellations revealed to them dimly the appearance of the coast. It was a low sandy beach skirting the sea and extending back for about a quarter of a mile in the form of a grassy plain, dotted here and there with scrubby under-wood. Beyond this was a dark line of forest. The light was not sufficient to enable them to ascertain the appearance of the interior. Barney and Martin now cast about in their minds how they were to spend the night.
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