The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the RevolutionStoddard, William O.
History
The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution
Stoddard, William O.
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Juvenile fiction
"Sail to wind'ard," he said to himself. "Hope there's no mischief in
her. Anyhow, I'll go down and have Captain Watts send the men to
quarters."
Down he went and reported, and Captain Watts responded vigorously.
"Most likely a coaster," he said, "but we won't take any chances. Call
the men. Any but a pretty strong rebel 'll sheer away if she finds
we're ready for her. We'll shoot first, Brackett. I'm a fightin'
man--I am!"
"All right, sir," said Brackett, more cheerily. "I've served on a
cruiser. Men! All hands clear away for action! Cast loose the guns!"
He was in right good earnest, like the brave British seaman that he
was, and the supply ship, in spite of having too much deck cargo, soon
began to take on a decidedly warlike appearance. There was no audible
grumbling among her crew as they went to their posts of duty, but a
sharp observer might have noted that several of them, from time to
time, cast wistful glances landward and then looked gloomily into each
others' faces.
"No hope!" muttered one of them.
"They are hanging deserters," hissed another. "I saw one run up."
"I saw one flogged to death," came savagely from a third, "but I'll
take my chance if I git one."
Mate Brackett was now busy with his glass, and he was telling himself
how much he longed for a stronger breeze, coming from some other point
of the compass.
"Hurrah!" he suddenly sang out. "Captain Watts, we're all right, now!
British flag!"
"Keep to your guns!" roared back the captain. "I'll stand away from
her, just the same. If you throw away the _Windsor_ I'll have you
hung!"
More fiercely vehement than ever became now his apparent readiness for
fighting. He called another man to the wheel and went out among the
guns. He ordered up more muskets, pistols, pikes, cutlasses, and armed
himself to the teeth, as if to repel boarders.
"They'd call me a Tory," he said to the mate. "They shoot Tories. I'm
fighting for my life, if that there sail is a Yankee. Her flag's as
like as not a trick to keep us from getting ready."
"We'll be ready," replied the mate; but all the men had heard the
remark of Captain Watts concerning his chances.
Nearer and nearer, before the somewhat freshening breeze, came the
strange schooner, with the merchant flag of Great Britain fluttering
out to declare how peaceable and friendly was her character. Mate
Brackett's glass could as yet discover no sign of evil, unless' it
might be that a widespread old sail which he saw on the deck amidships
had been put there to cover up the wrong kind of deck cargo.
"She hasn't any business that I know of to head for us," he said to his
commander, suspiciously. "We must be ready to give her a broadside."
"Luff!" instantly sang out Captain Watts to the man at the helm. "They
can't fool me! Brackett, no nonsense, now! Bring the larboard guns to
bear! I'll hail her! Ship ahoy! What schooner's that?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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