Across the Spanish Main by Harry Collingwood (uplifting novels .txt) 📖

The days now slipped by uneventfully, and morning after morning broke without either land or ship making its appearance to break the monotony of a perfectly clear horizon.

Slipping down the Windward Channel, and sailing on a South-South-West course, they had left Morant Point, at the eastern end of Jamaica, on their starboard beam; and after keeping to their South-South-West course for the five succeeding days, they had turned the vessels’ heads to the East-South-East, intending to sail as far in that direction as La Guayra, where they hoped to find a plate galleon in the harbour, and make an attempt to cut her out. Thence they planned to change their course once more, standing westward along the coast of Venezuela, crossing the Gulf of Darien, the Mosquito Gulf, and the Bay of Honduras, and so up through the Yucatan Channel, leaving the western end of the island of Cuba on their starboard hand, and into the Gulf of Mexico, where they intended to cruise for some time, feeling tolerably certain of picking up a treasure-ship there at any rate, even if they were not fortunate enough to snap one up whilst cruising on their way.

They could, of course, have reached the Gulf of Mexico much more quickly by sailing down the Windward Channel and along the southern coast of Cuba, and by the Yucatan Channel into the gulf; but they had heard of the treasure-ships that made La Guayra their port of departure, and were anxious not to miss any of them. Also, they believed that, by taking the longer course, there would be more likelihood of their falling in with that most ferocious and bloody pirate, José Leirya, as he was called, or José de Leirya, as he loved to call himself—for he was said to claim descent from a grandee of Spain, although those who knew the man were well aware that his birth and parentage were obscure.

As has already been related, one of the seamen on board the flag-ship one night gave some account of the pirate’s former doings, and the discovery that the buried gear found at the Careenage—as Cavendish had named the spot where the squadron refitted—was the property of the pirate was proof positive that the scoundrel was still prowling somewhere in those seas. Likewise, it will be remembered, every man in the fleet had sworn to do his utmost to bring the villain to justice. The anxiety, therefore, to catch him was such that officers, even, not infrequently spent hours at the mast-heads in the hope of seeing his topgallantsails showing above the horizon. Old Cary—the man who claimed to possess some knowledge of Leirya—said that when he last sailed in these seas the pirate was cruising in a schooner of unusual length, and lying very low in the water, her hull painted black, with a broad scarlet riband, in which her open gun-ports looked like a number of gaping mouths, having been built very large to enable the broadside guns to be trained almost fore and aft. The craft’s masts were, furthermore, said to be of great height, and might be recognised by their remarkable and excessive rake aft; indeed—so asserted Cary—her spars were of such extraordinary length, and the vessel herself lay so very low in the water, that she had the appearance of being perilously overmasted and topheavy. This appearance, however, Cary explained, was altogether deceptive. The vessel sat low in the water indeed, but she was not the shallow craft that she looked; there was more of her below than above the surface, and she drew a great deal of water for a vessel of her tonnage. This great draught of water enabled her to carry a heavy load of ballast, tall masts, and a correspondingly heavy press of sail; thus she was an enormously fast vessel, and had up till now easily eluded capture, being able to run away from and out-weather many vessels more powerful than herself.

In justice to the pirate, however, it must be admitted that he had seldom been known to run away. His vessel was exceptionally heavily armed, and, if his antagonist happened to be not very much more powerful than himself, he invariably stayed and fought the action out, always succeeding in beating off his opponent, while in many cases he had captured her. The fate of the unfortunate crews that fell into his hands was—if his own records were to be credited—not to be dwelt upon; for he described himself as guilty of the most awful atrocities to men, women, and even children. The fights, of course, occurred only between himself and war-vessels; merchant-ships never attempted such an impossible task as to fight the pirate, and very often seemed too completely paralysed with terror even to attempt the equally impossible task of running away!

Such was the vessel that everyone in Cavendish’s squadron was so eagerly looking for, their eagerness being further stimulated by the fact that the captain had offered as a prize, to the first seaman who sighted her, the best weapon that should be taken out of her after her capture—which, of course, all on board considered as absolutely certain, could they but once succeed in coming up with her; while to the first officer or gentleman who saw her he offered as reward the best suit of clothing to be found in her. Such, however, was the eagerness of all hands to come up with and destroy the vessel, and her rascally crew and leader, that the lookout would have been just as keenly kept if no reward whatever had been offered.

But there was a still further stimulus in the not unnatural hope that José Leirya would have on board some, at least, of that vast treasure of his, with the possession of which he was credited by every man who had ever heard of him; and visions of much prize-money to spend on their return to Plymouth were always before the eager eyes of the Englishmen.

Regulating the speed of the whole squadron by that of the slowest ship—which happened to be the Tiger, the rechristened El Capitan—the fleet went slowly to the East-South-East on its appointed course.

In those days, as, of course, it is hardly necessary to remind the reader, charts were few, and those few were not to be relied upon as more than approximately accurate.

On the course that the commodore had marked out for his little squadron they would, according to their chart, fall in with no land until they made Oruba Island, after which Cavendish intended to steer a course between the island of Oruba and what is now known as the Paraguena Peninsula, leaving the other two islands of Curazao and Buen Ayre on his port hand, and then heading straight for La Guayra.

Several sailors, and one or two officers, among whom were Roger and Harry, were as usual perched upon the cross-trees, the yards, or at the mast-heads, on the lookout for the first sight of the infamous José Leirya’s schooner, and with no idea whatever of sighting land. So everybody on deck was much astonished when, on a certain morning, the cry came down from the masthead of the Stag Royal of “Land ho, bearing dead ahead!” At the same moment a string of flags fluttered up to the main truck of the Tiger, which was signalling that she also had caught sight of land of some description.

“What do you make of it, Roger?” shouted Cavendish, for it was Roger’s sharp eyes that had caught the first glimpse of the unexpected land as he was aloft straining his eyes in a search for the raking masts of José Leirya’s craft.

“Well, sir,” responded the boy, “it is an island of some kind, a very small one, and lying low in the water. I can make out what I take to be a few trees, probably palms, and I think—nay, I am quite sure now—that I can see a thin column of smoke rising from about the centre of the island.”

“In that case,” said Cavendish, turning to Leigh, who was standing at his elbow trying to catch sight of the land from the level of the deck, “there is evidently a human being on that island who has seen the sails of our fleet, and wishes to attract our attention and be taken off. I suspect there has been a shipwreck there, and very likely there may be more than one man. Now, I should not at all object to find and take off a whole crew of shipwrecked seamen—provided that they were English,—for what with our fight with the Spaniards, that brush with the savages, and sickness, we have had our crews thinned down very considerably. God grant that they be not Spaniards; for if they are, and are in distress there, I must take them off in common humanity—though, were we in like case, I doubt if they would do the same for us,—and then I shall have my vessels again lumbered up with a lot of useless fellows until I can land them somewhere. Moreover, that same landing will be very difficult now, for we shall not be likely to find down here another place which will serve our purpose so well as did the Careenage, all these islands and land hereabouts being already occupied by Spaniards, and we should be running our own heads into danger in attempting to get rid of them. Mr Leigh, be good enough to work out our dead-reckoning up to this hour, and let us see exactly where we are on the chart, for there is no island or land of any description marked where we are at present sailing.”

Leigh did as the captain had ordered him, and