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
"We'll practise now and then," he told him. "Now, some wouldn't
believe it, but I met more than a score of regular picaroons, living at
their ease in Porto Rico. Some of them are rich, too, and don't mean
to go to sea any more. For all that, they're always ready to give
information or any other help to sea-rovers like themselves."
Guert was all the while learning a great deal, and this addition to his
stock of knowledge hardly surprised him.
"I see," he thought. "It's a kind of matter of course. It would be a
good deal stranger if it wasn't so. Those that get away rich don't
care to run any more risks. Besides, if such fellows hadn't signs and
passwords already, they'd set right to work and invent some. Even
regular armies have passwords and countersigns, and all the ships have
signals."
He was thinking of that sort of thing when the dark came on. The wind
was strengthening, and there were clouds rushing across the sky to
vindicate Sam Prentice's prophecy concerning the weather.
"He was right, I guess," thought Guert. "Hullo! What's the captain up
to?"
Captain Avery was standing at the mainmast, and he had just touched off
a rocket that went fizzing up to its bursting place.
"I wonder who'll see it," thought Guert.
Far away in the deepening gloom to leeward, at that moment, the first
lieutenant of the _Tigress_, watching upon her quarter-deck,
exclaimed:--
"Captain! One more of our cruisers! She'll come within hail before
long. That's it! I hope we're going to be relieved. I'm sick and
tired of this West India station."
"So am I!" said the captain, heartily. "Reply to that signal. Give
'em our own number. Draw 'em this way."
His signal officer responded promptly, and more than one rocket went up
from the _Tigress_. Her commander was much chagrined, however, for he
received no response to give him the information he expected of the
character of the newcomer.
Moreover, as far away from the _Noank_ as he was, but in a directly
opposite line, to windward, at the same time, the English skipper of a
fine, bark-rigged merchantman, just out from Porto Rico, felt
exceedingly gratified. She was a craft of which Captain Avery had no
knowledge whatever up to that moment.
"Hey!" shouted the skipper. "See that? One more of our cruisers close
at hand, beside the one away off to looard. I'll send up a light to
let 'em know where we are."
Captain Avery had not really asked so much of him, but that was
precisely what his unnecessary rocket did.
"Lyme!" exclaimed Sam Prentice, as the shining stars fell out of the
flying firework from the bark. "I declare! They told us that feller
wouldn't sail for three days yet, and there he is. He's goin' to be
our surest take, Captain."
"All right," replied the captain. "Not to-night, though. We'll just
foller him along till mornin'. Then we'll put a prize crew into him
and send him to New London. We're much obliged to him for callin' on
us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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