Fitz the Filibuster Part 77

"Yes," said the skipper. "But you must do it if there _is_ time. They don't seem to mind our firing a bit."

"No," Fitz heard the chief officer growl angrily. "Their blood's up, and they are too stupid, I suppose."

"Cease firing!" shouted the skipper. "Here they come!" The order came too late to check six of the men, who in their excitement finished off their regular shots with a ragged volley directed at the foremost boat, and with such terrible effect that in the midst of a scene of confusion the oars were dropped and the boat swung round broadside to the stream, which carried it on to the next boat, fouling it so that the two hung together and confusion became worse confounded as they crashed on to the third boat, putting a stop to the firing as well as the rowing. The commands of the officer in the last boat were of no effect, and the defenders of the schooner, who had sprung to their positions where their efforts would have been of most avail, burst forth with a wild cheer, and then turned to the skipper for orders to fire again.

But these orders did not come, for their captain had turned to the mate with--

"Why, Burgess, that's done it! I believe we've given them enough."

Then heartily, "Well done, boys! Give 'em another cheer."

In their wild excitement and delight the schooner's crew gave two; and they had good cause for their exultation, for the firing from the boats had quite ceased, the efforts of their commanders being directed towards disentangling themselves from their sorry plight, many minutes elapsing before the boats were clear and the men able to row, while by this time several hundred yards had been placed between them and the object of their attack.

Then the Spanish officers gave their orders to advance almost simultaneously; but they were not obeyed.

They raged and roared at their men, but in vain--the boats were still drifting down stream towards the bend, and as the darkness was giving its first sign of closing in, the last one disappeared, the skipper saying quietly--

"Thank you, my lads. It was bravely done."

A murmur rose from among the men, only one speaking out loudly; and that was the carpenter, who, as he took off his cap and wiped his streaming forehead, gave Fitz a comic look and said--

"Well, yes; I think we made a neat job of that."

Some of the men chuckled, but their attention was taken off directly by the boatswain, who shouted--

"Here, you Camel, don't wait for orders, but get the lads something to peck at and drink. I feel as if I hadn't had anything to eat for a week."

"Yes, and be quick," cried the skipper. "It's all right, my lads; I don't think we shall see the enemy again."

CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR.

"OF COURSE WE WILL."

The next morning reconnoitring began once more, prior to the skipper giving his orders, and the schooner dropping down slowly towards the mouth of the river; for the mate had been up on the cliff soon after daybreak, busy with his gla.s.s, and had returned to report that the spot where the gunboat lay still fast on the rocks was so distant from the Channel through which the schooner had sailed, that it was doubtful whether, if they attempted to sail out, she could be reached by the small pieces that the enemy had on board.

"Then we won't give them the chance to attack again," was the skipper's comment, and the wind favouring, the channel was soon reached, and with the mate conning the craft, they sailed outward along the clear water, with the men armed and ready for any attack that might be attempted by the man-of-war's boats.

It was not very long before the boys, who had mounted aloft with their gla.s.s to watch the deck of the foe, were able to announce that boats were being manned for lowering, and the tortuous nature of the channel now began to lead the schooner ominously near; but both the skipper and the mate were of opinion that at the rate they were sailing they would be able to evade an attack.

"And if they are not very careful," growled the latter, "it strikes me I shall be running one if not two of them down. They'd be much safer if they stopped aboard."

But still the dangerous nature of the rocks forced them nearer and nearer to the enemy.

"Not much doubt about the big gun being disabled," Poole remarked to his companion, as they noted how busily the crew were preparing to lower the boats. "We should have had a shot long before this."

"And there's no doubt either about the screw being fouled," said Fitz.

"I say, take the gla.s.s. They're doing something which I can't make out.

You try."

Poole re-focussed the binocular, but it was some moments before he spoke.

"Can't you?" cried Fitz excitedly.

"Yes, but I'm not quite sure. Yes, now I am. Right!"

For at that moment a white ball of smoke shot out from the gunboat's deck, followed by a dull thud, and something came skipping over the heaving sea, before there was another sharp crack and a sh.e.l.l burst about a hundred yards from the schooner's stern.

"I wonder whether we shall have to go any nearer," said Poole excitedly.

"They'd be able to do us a deal of mischief like that. I believe she's got four of those small guns on board."

"Judging from their gunnery," said Fitz coolly, "they are not likely to hit us, even if we go much more near."

"Well, I hope not," said Poole. "Those are nasty waspish things, those sh.e.l.ls. There she goes again. I wonder whether we could do anything with rifles at this range."

The skipper proved to be of opinion that they could, but he preferred to devote all his attention to the navigation of the schooner, and in fact there was plenty to do, for every now and then they found themselves dangerously near the spots where a little creamy foam showed upon the surface of the sea, insidious, beautiful patches that would have meant destruction to the slight timbers of the yacht-like craft.

But the mate was perched up on high, and between him and the steersman the skipper stood ready to transmit the keen chief officer's signals to the man at the wheel, so that they rode in safety through the watery maze, paying no heed whatever to the sh.e.l.ls which came at intervals from the gunboat's deck, the small modern guns having a terribly long range.

The boats filled with men still hung from the davits, ready for the order to start, which was never given, the captain of the gunboat evidently being of opinion that his rowing men would not be able to compete with the schooner's sails, and waiting as he was for the bursting of some sh.e.l.l overhead bringing down one of the important spars by the run, while it was always possible that the schooner's fate might be the same as his, to wit, running stem on to some rock, to sink or remain fast.

Under these circ.u.mstances the boats would have been of avail, and another attempt might have been made to board and take the little schooner.

But the Spaniards' gunnery was not good enough; the sh.e.l.ls were startling, but their segments did no worse than speckle the surface of the sea, and at last involuntarily cheers rang out, for the _Teal_ was running swiftly away from the danger, and the sh.e.l.ls that came dropping were far astern. About half-an-hour later, and long after the firing had ceased to be dangerous, the mate came down from his eyrie, to seat himself and begin wiping his dripping face.

"You look tired, Mr Burgess," said Fitz, going up to him, "Shall I get you a tin of water?"

"Thank you, my lad," said the rugged fellow huskily. "I am nearly choked with thirst."

Fitz ran to the breaker, took the tin that stood ready, dipped it, and bore it to the mate, who drained it to the last drop.

"Thank you, my lad. That's the sweetest drop I ever tasted in my life.

Hard work for the body will make a man thirsty, but work like that I have just been doing is ten times as bad. Hah! It's horrid!--horrid!

I believed I knew that channel pretty well, but for the last hour, and every minute of it, I have been waiting to hear the little schooner go scrunch on to some hidden rock; and now I feel quite done."

"It must have been horrible," said the middy, looking his sympathy. "Of course we all knew it was dangerous, but none of us could have felt like that."

"No, my lad," said the mate, holding out his rough hand. "I don't believe anybody felt like that," and he gripped the boy's hand firmly.

"But I say, between ourselves, I didn't mean to speak. It's made me feel a little soft like, and I shouldn't like anybody to know what I said."

"You may trust me, Mr Burgess," said the lad warmly.

"I do, my lad; I do, for I know what a gentleman you are. But to n.o.body, please, not even to young Poole."

The rough mate nodded his satisfaction as he met the middy's eyes, and somehow from that minute it seemed to Fitz that they had become great friends.

"Now, that's what I call the prettiest view we've seen of that gunboat yet, Mr Burnett, sir," said the carpenter a short time later, as the lad strolled up to where he was leaning over the bulwarks shading his eyes from the sun. "I don't profess to be a artist, sir; nighest I ever come to making a picter was putting a frame round it and a bit of gla.s.s in front, as I kep' in tight with brads. But I've seen a deal of natur'

in my time, hot and cold, and I say that's the prettiest bit of a sea-view I ever set eyes on. She's a fine-built boat--nice shape.

Looks like about half-way between a flat-iron and one of them as the laundresses use with a red-hot thing in their insides. But it ain't only her shape as takes my fancy. It's her position, and that's one that everybody on board must admire, as she lies there nice and distant with the coast behind, sea in front, and a lovely bit of foam and breakers both sides. Ah! she makes a lovely pictur'. She don't want no frame, and the beauty of her is that she's one of them what they used to call dissolving views. You see, we shan't see her no more, and don't want to, and that's the beauty of it."