The Greatest Sea Adventure Novels: 30+ Maritime Novels, Pirate Tales & Seafaring Stories. R. M. Ballantyne
anxiously, as the squall which had been approaching struck the schooner and laid her almost on her beam ends.
"I know it," replied Gascoyne, curtly, as he thrust aside the man at the wheel and took the spokes in his own hands.
"It's all we can do to find our way through that place in fine weather," remonstrated the mate.
"I know it," said Gascoyne, sternly.
Scraggs, who chanced to be standing by, seemed to be immensely delighted with the alarmed expression on Manton's face. The worthy second mate hated the first mate so cordially, and attached so little value to his own life, that he would willingly have run the schooner on the rocks altogether, just to have the pleasure of laughing contemptuously at the wreck of Manton's hopes.
"It's worth while trying it," suggested Scraggs, with a malicious grin.
"I mean to try it," said Gascoyne, calmly.
"But there's not a spot in the shoal except the Eel's Gate that we've a ghost of a chance of getting through," cried Manton, becoming excited as the schooner dashed towards the breakers like a furious charger rushing on destruction.
"I know it."
"And there's barely water on that to float us over," he added, striding forward, and laying a hand on the wheel.
"Half a foot too little," said Gascoyne, with forced calmness.
Scraggs grinned.
"You shan't run us aground if I can prevent it," cried Manton, fiercely, seizing the wheel with both hands and attempting to move it, in which attempt he utterly failed; and Scraggs grinned broader than ever.
"Remove your hands," said Gascoyne, in a low, calm voice, which surprised the men who were standing near and witnessed these proceedings.
"I won't. Ho, lads! do you wish to be sent to the bottom by a—"
The remainder of this speech was cut short by the sudden descent of Gascoyne's knuckles on the forehead of the mate, who dropped on the deck as if he had been felled with a sledge-hammer. Scraggs laughed outright with satisfaction.
"Remove him," said Gascoyne.
"Overboard?" inquired Scraggs, with a bland smile.
"Below," said the captain; and Scraggs was fain to content himself with carrying the insensible form of his superior officer to his berth; taking pains, however, to bump his head carefully against every spar and corner and otherwise convenient projection on the way down.
In a few minutes more the schooner was rushing through the milk-white foam that covered the dangerous coral reef named the Long Shoal; and the Talisman lay to, not daring to venture into such a place, but pouring shot and shell into her bold little adversary with terrible effect, as the tattered sails and flying cordage showed. The fire was steadily replied to by Long Tom, whose heavy shots came crashing repeatedly through the hull of the man-of-war.
The large boat, meanwhile, had been picked up by the Talisman, after having rescued Mr. Mason and Henry, both of whom were placed in the gig. This light boat was now struggling to make the ship; but, owing to the strength of the squall, her diminished crew were unable to effect this; they therefore ran ashore, to await the issue of the fight and the storm.
For some time the Avenger stood on her wild course unharmed, passing close to huge rocks on either side of her, over which the sea burst in clouds of foam. Gascoyne still stood at the wheel, guiding the vessel with consummate skill and daring, while the men looked on in awe and in breathless expectation, quite regardless of the shot which flew around them, and altogether absorbed by the superior danger by which they were menaced.
The surface of the sea was so universally white, that there was no line of dark water to guide the pirate captain on his bold and desperate course. He was obliged to trust almost entirely to his intimate knowledge of the coast, and to the occasional patches in the surrounding waste where the comparative flatness of the boiling flood indicated less shallow water. As the danger increased, the smile left Gascoyne's lips; but the flashing of his bright eyes and his deepened color showed that the spirit boiled within almost as wildly as the ocean raged around him.
The center of the shoal was gained, and a feeling of hope and exultation began to rise in the breasts of the crew, when a terrific shock caused the little schooner to quiver from stem to stern, while an involuntary cry burst from the men, many of whom were thrown violently on the deck. At the same time a shot from the Talisman came in through the stern bulwarks, struck the wheel, and carried it away, with part of the tackle attached to the tiller.
"Another leap like that, lass, and you're over," cried Gascoyne, with a light smile, as he sprang to the iron tiller, and, seizing it with his strong hands, steered the schooner as if she had been a boat.
"Get new tackle rove, Scraggs," said he cheerfully. "I'll keep her straight for Eel's Gate with this. That was the first bar of the gate; there are only two altogether, and the second won't be so bad."
As the captain spoke, the schooner seemed to recover from the shock, and again rushed forward on her foaming course; but before the men had time to breathe, she struck again,—this time less violently, as had been predicted,—and the next wave lifting her over the shoals, launched her into deep water.
"There, that will do," said Gascoyne, resigning the helm to Scraggs. "You can keep her as she goes: there's plenty of water now, and no fear of that big bully following us. Meanwhile, I will go below, and see to the welfare of our passengers."
Gascoyne was wrong in supposing that the Talisman would not follow. She could not indeed follow in the same course; but the moment that Mulroy observed that the pirate had passed the shoals in safety, he stood inshore, and, without waiting to pick up the gig, traversed the channel by which they had entered the bay. Then, trusting to the lead and to his knowledge of the general appearance of shallows, he steered carefully along until he cleared the reefs, and finally stood out to sea.
In less than half an hour afterwards, the party on shore beheld the two vessels disappear among the black storm-clouds that gathered over the distant horizon.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Goat's Pass—An Attack, a Bloodless Victory, and a Sermon
When Ole Thorwald was landed at the foot of that wild gorge in the cliffs which have been designated the Goat's Pass, he felt himself to be an aggrieved man, and growled accordingly.
"It's too bad o' that fire-eating fellow to fix on me for this particular service," said he to one of the settlers named Hugh Barnes, a cooper, who acted as one of his captains; "and at night, too; just as if a man of my years were a cross between a cat (which everybody knows can see in the dark) and a kangaroo, which is said to be a powerful leaper, though whether in the dark or the light I don't pretend to know, not being informed on the point. Have a care, Hugh. It seems to me you're going to step into a quarry hole, or over a precipice. How my old flesh quakes, to be sure! If it was only a fair, flat field and open day, with any odds you like against me, it would be nothing; but this abominable Goat's—Hah! I knew it! Help! hold on there! murder!"
Ole's sudden alarm was caused by his stumbling in the dark over the root of a shrub which grew on the edge of, and partly concealed, a precipice, over which he was precipitated, and at the foot of which his mangled and lifeless form would soon have reposed had not his warlike forefathers, being impressed with the advantage of wearing strong sword-belts, furnished the sword which Ole wore with such a belt as was not only on all occasions sufficient to support the sword itself, but which, on this particular occasion, was strong enough to support its owner when he was suspended from, and entangled with, the shrubs of the cliff.
A ray of light chanced to break into the dark chasm at the time, and revealed all its dangers to the pendulous Thorwald so powerfully that he positively howled with horror.
The howl brought Hugh and several