Sure enough, as the fine white sails of a good-sized vessel made its way around the point of land, distant shouts and confusion could be heard on the _Vulture_. Looking through his glass, which he lent to Amos every few moments, Chris could make out scurrying figures on the deck of the pirate ship, men springing up the rigging and others walking up the anchor as quickly as they could. On the bridge Chris could see the tall gaunt height of Claggett Chew. The humpbacked figure of Simon Gosler stood rubbing his hands, at one side of his master, while on the other, observing the work of the sailors with a supercilious air, leaned a familiar and ridiculous figure. Dressed as if for a court ball at Versailles and holding his lorgnette a few inches from his nose, Osterbridge Hawsey remained elegantly aloof from anything so degrading as hard work. He looked on with a superior smile as the black sails were unfurled, the anchor was heaved dripping from its bed, and the hard-pressed dirty crew made all speed to go in advance of the oncoming ship. Still others among the pirates could be plainly seen manning the guns that had already been brought out from their hiding places, while still more stood by to furnish their comrades with cannon balls and powder. Amos became so excited he leaned too far forward, and, nothing learned from his nightly difficulties with his hammock, fell out of the tree onto the heads and shoulders of the men below, causing astonishment and swallowed laughter before he was hoisted back up again. "Bless my cap and buttons!" Ned Cilley cried, "there's to be a fight for sartin. I can see the flash of light on the swords and axes!" [Illustration] Quicker than it would take to tell, the _Vulture_, black sails spread, moved forward to head off the merchantman evidently homeward bound from China. The pirate ship sailed down the coast, turned, and forced the oncoming vessel to stop. Then, as well as the watchers could guess, a parley ensued, but if the pirates thought the prey would be an easy one they were mistaken, for the merchantman came forward suddenly, all sails set, in an effort to ram the _Vulture_. But the rich cargo vessel was hopelessly at a disadvantage. The pirate guns opened fire, ropes were thrown over to the peaceful ship, and with yells of triumph that carried even above the tumult of the fighting, the pirate crew leapt on board. Tiny figures could be seen falling into the water from the merchantman, and in a bitter hour or so the sound of fighting died out altogether. The men watching from the shore had been kept there only by the obedience the Captain was able to extract from them, for rage was in the heart of every man at the sight they were forced to see, but were powerless to prevent. Even among such hard-bitten old salts as they all were, more than one could be seen mumbling a prayer for the unfortunate men who had put up such a gallant fight. [Illustration]