Sailors -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
Jack and his companion found the brig was in search of a spot further to
the south where good water could be got. Having visited it, Jack and
Sambo were able to pilot her there, and thus at once obtained favour
with their captain. They had not been many days on board before Jack
became suspicious of the character of the _Sea Hawk_, such was the name
of the brig. "Don't ask questions," was the only answer he got when he
inquired under what flag she sailed. He found that she was neither
English nor American; still she was strongly armed, and from the
bandages which decked the heads and arms of several of the crew, and the
marks of shot in her hull and rigging, it was evident she had only
lately been engaged. The people also were of all nations and colours,
and dressed in every variety of costume. Watching his opportunity he
mentioned his doubts to Sambo. The black shook his head. "Berry bad,
me fear," he replied. "This brig one big pirate--nothin' else." Jack
had once seen some pirates hanging in chains, and had a wholesome fear
of their character. He was therefore not a little anxious to get out of
their company. He, however, said nothing, and went about his duty
cheerfully.
In spite of the lawless manners of the crew, there was strict discipline
maintained on board, and a sharp look out kept. From their
conversation, Jack guessed that they were on the watch for some of the
homeward-bound Spanish ships from Peru or Mexico, supposed to be
freighted with gold and other valuable commodities. No one was more
constantly on the alert than the captain. Every one paid him the
greatest respect. Jack at first could not tell why. His outward
appearance had nothing about it of the ferocious pirate. Captain John
was a little man, somewhat sunburnt and wizened, and no beauty
certainly, but with usually a calm, rather benignant expression of
countenance, and a gentle soft voice. If, however, any thing went wrong
or in any way displeased him, his eye kindled up, and his voice gave out
a note between the roar of a lion and the croak of a raven, and on these
occasions Jack always felt inclined to get away from him as far as he
could.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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