"I don't know whether or not that is Watling's Island. If it is, we've made a better run on this tack than I thought we had. One good, long reach beyond that and we'll begin to be in the track of the traders." "Whoo-oop!" suddenly rang out the war-cry of Up-na-tan, from somewhere up the mainmast. "Where away?" shouted the captain. "What do you see?" "No see!" came down from the redskin. "Hark! Hear gun! Hark ahead! See point! More gun!" His ears had been better than theirs, but, after a moment of intense listening, the entire ship's company of the _Noank_ felt sure that they heard the dull boom of far-away cannon. Every sail was already set to take so fair and fresh a wind, and the swift schooner was eating up the distance rapidly. "All hands make ready for action!" shouted the captain. "Risk or no risk, I'm goin' to see what it is." His orders went out fast, but they went to the ears of men who had sprung away without them. All the guns had been manned instantly. Coco and Guert and half a dozen more were at the pivot-gun, but Up-na-tan did not come down at once. The captain's order kept him aloft as the best lookout and listener he had. Louder, now, at intervals, came the ominous sound of the distant guns. "No big gun yet," called down the keen-eared Indian. "No big war-ship. _Noank_ run right along." "The chief is worth his weight in gold!" exclaimed the captain. "That's jest what I wanted to know, before roundin' that there p'int. I don't care to run under the guns of a British cruiser." Ships which are running toward each other under full sail cut every mile in two in the middle. For instance, they need to run only two miles instead of four to get together. There was a dense forest growth on the point of Watling's Island, if that were indeed the land to windward, for the breeze was westerly. Everything beyond was hidden from view until the _Noank_ passed the outer reef and tacked seaward, running almost wing and wing. "Whoo-oop!" came fiercely down from the red man's perch. "'Panish flag. Three-master. Trader. Not many gun. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! Kidd! Kidd! Black flag schooner! Pirate! Not so big as _Noank_. Small gun! Take her quick! Kill 'em all! Whoo-oop!" "Hurrah!" arose in a general roar from the crew of the _Noank_, more than one voice adding, vociferously, the desire that was felt to smash the picaroon. "Ready, all, now!" sang out Captain Avery. "The American flag is against the black flag, the world over. We'll fight it, every time!"