The Noank's Log Part 10

His sailors sprang to do what they might for the wreck, but the appearance of things was unpromising.

"Good for you, Up-na-tan!" said Captain Avery. "That shot tells for old practice. I guess I'd better make you captain of that gun."

"Ole chief keep gun," replied the Indian. "Find gun shoot straight.

Good!"

"I'm mighty glad o' that," said the captain. "I mean to train every hand on board, though. We may get stuck where we can't afford to miss a shot. Straight shootin' is better than the heaviest kind o' shootin'

that doesn't hit."

The breeze was increasing finely, and away went the swift privateer.

She had escaped from her first pursuer, and not far ahead of her, now, were pretty surely her next batch of perils.

CHAPTER VI.

THE BRITISH FLEET.

The easterly end of Long Island is exceedingly ragged in its contour.

It is made up of straggling promontories, bays, inlets, and the adjacent waters contain many islands, large and small, with outlying rocky ledges. The opposite sh.o.r.e, the mainland of New England, is of a similar character. Between them, the eastern sound and the neck of water by which it is to be entered, provide a great deal of pretty circ.u.mspect navigation.

It is said, although no one now living was there at the time to collect testimony, that once the mainland and the island were connected by a rugged isthmus, now sunken or washed away. If it were ever there, enough of it is left to require good piloting.

A fleet of war-s.h.i.+ps proposing to blockade or supervise the port of Boston, may at the same time extend its operations so as to cork up the Sound. This process, if made sufficiently thorough, may include in the blockade such ports as New London, Providence, New Haven, and their smaller neighbors. All of these, during the Revolutionary War, were not only developing rapidly their regular commercial relations but were nests of privateering enterprises.

The British naval authorities were often unable to detail for this part of their general blockade of America a sufficient number of s.h.i.+ps, and it was a service much disliked by their captains and crews, especially in winter.

The area of ocean to be patrolled was wide, and in spite of all watching the Yankee s.h.i.+ps ran in and out. Boston, especially, was building up again, after its long period of military occupation, siege, and desolation, much to the disgust of its many enemies.

During some hours after the escape of the _Noank_ from the _Boxer_, Up-na-tan was down in the hold, and Guert Ten Eyck was with him. The old Manhattan was no builder of s.h.i.+ps, whatever he might be able to do for a canoe, but he had seen a great many, here and there. He seemed now to be carrying on a kind of critical investigation of the naval architecture of the schooner.

"What is it?" asked Guert, as his red friend placed a hand curiously upon one of the ribs of the vessel and glanced from that to other timbers.

"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Good stick. Like lobster war-s.h.i.+p. All make schooner strong. Carry long gun!"

"Captain Avery wishes she could," said Guert. "The mate thinks she can't."

"No gun anyhow, now," said the chief, shaking his head. "Wait!"

The subject of the Manhattan's inquiry belonged to a controversy then going forward among the royal naval constructors and sea-captains. The reason why England's third and fourth rate cruisers carried only light guns, and many of them, was simply their frail timbering. Too heavy artillery might rack them dangerously. It would call for precisely the strength of frame provided by American s.h.i.+pyards for craft which might b.u.mp an ice-floe.

Up-na-tan was still further informing himself concerning the skeleton of the _Noank_, when a shout from above summoned them both.

"Guert," called down Captain Avery, "you and he come to the cabin. Now all's clear, you must learn something."

On the deck all things were quiet. Not a sail was in sight that indicated a craft as large as their own. The schooner was spinning along, with all sails set and a fair wind in them. Everything about her, from deck to topmast, wore a clean, orderly, service look, that spoke volumes for the high character of her crew. She was all ready to do her best at any moment, and she was sure of being well handled.

Perhaps a seaman would have critically remarked upon the fact that with such a wind she was not taking a course directly out into the Atlantic.

The captain's cabin, well aft below deck, was a small affair. It seemed almost crowded when only half a dozen persons were in it.

"Now, Guert," said Captain Avery, "if I don't make the chief understand, you must explain it to him. Talk Dutch, or any other lingo. He's the sharpest lookout there is on board, and he's a prime steersman. He must know what some things mean."

"What things?" asked Guert.

Two rugged old sailors who had entered the cabin with Sam Prentice, also looked on inquiringly, while the captain went to a locker and took out of it a leather case.

"Guert," he said, "it's the first duty of the commander of a s.h.i.+p that's being taken by an enemy to put his private signal-book overboard. It's kept weighted all the while, so it will sink. Now, Luke Watts did his duty in that particular. His mate and his crew looked on and saw him do it. So did I. They saw him drown something like this."

The case was open, now, and out of it was drawn what appeared to be several sheets of parchments, wired together, so that they might be rolled up like a pamphlet.

"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Chief know 'em. s.h.i.+p talk with lantern. Talk to other s.h.i.+p with flag. Captain got plenty lantern? Plenty flag?

Tell Up-na-tan how."

A deep cupboard under the captain's bunk was at once thrown open, and its contents were interesting. Red, green, blue, yellow, white, large lanterns and small. Beside them lay a collection of sheafs of rockets, each of which carried a written parchment tab to tell its nature.

Signal flags were there, also, in tightly tied-up rolls, and Up-na-tan loudly grunted his approval of them.

"First, now, for the book," said the captain. "Every man on board can be trusted to know signals. There isn't one traitor in the _Noank_, nor a fool, either. Sam and I must go on deck. You and the men and the redskin stay here and study those things. Git 'em all into your head, if you can. We may have a lot o' sharp dodgin' to do, this cruise."

Out he went, taking Sam with him, and then it at once appeared that Guert had become a remarkable kind of schoolmaster, trying to explain to others what he did not know himself. The two sailors were not altogether unlettered men, but lack of practice had left them slow at deciphering handwriting, and Guert seemed to have a knack of it. As for the Indian, he did not know one letter from another, but he could handle flags and lanterns as if they were hunting signs or the totems of clans and tribes. Signal after signal was picked out and its working practically ill.u.s.trated in questions or answers.

"'Top!" exclaimed Up-na-tan, at last. "Head full! See more by and by." So said the sailors, and Guert himself felt as if he had been going through a hard time at a new school.

"But wasn't that a cute thing of Luke Watts!" he thought, as he came on deck. "I'd like to try some o' those signals on a British s.h.i.+p. I don't know how far we've run. The captain says our tightest squeeze isn't far ahead of us, now."

The schooner, oddly enough, was actually running within sight of Block Island. Some, at least, of her perils must be behind her. Perhaps more would have been if a sailing vessel could go straight ahead, in any direction, like a steamer. That, however, is one of several things that she cannot do. Many an hour of swift sailing, tacking back and forth, must often be extended in gaining only a few miles of her true course.

The crew of the _Noank_ were not at all puzzled by the peculiar manner in which she was handled, and some of their faces betrayed anxiety.

"Guess ole Avery wish dark come," remarked Coco to his friends as they stood together at the foremast. "Lobster out yonder, somewhere."

It was only about the middle of the afternoon, and the captain's telescope was busy every few minutes.

"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "'Tack to Montauk. No go out yet. Captain head good. Want fog. Want night."

There was a laugh behind them, and Guert swung around to ask of Sam Prentice:--

"Can you tell me how it is, sir?"

"I guess I can," said the mate. "We know a good deal more'n we did.

While you were all below, we spoke a Providence man. Cod-fisher. My boy, there's a whole fleet of Britishers out there, somewhere, spread all along. Merchantmen, troop-s.h.i.+ps, cruisers. Some of 'em heavy fellers. We must keep well in, for a while."

"Ugh!" said the red man. "Mate let ole chief take gla.s.s. Want look."

Prentice had with him his marine telescope, an unusually good one, and he at once handed it to the Manhattan.

"Your eyes are 'most as good as gla.s.ses," he said. "Let's see what you can make out with that. I saw a sail, myself. Pretty well down, easterly."