The World of IceBallantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
General
The World of Ice
Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael)
Adventure stories; Arctic regions -- Fiction; Whaling -- Fiction
"Ay, ay, sir," sung out the man at the wheel. A second and a third shot
were fired, but passed unheeded, and the captain, fully expecting that
the next would be fired into them, ordered the men below.
"We can't afford to lose a man, Mr. Thompson; send them all down."
"Please, sir, may I remain?" said Buzzby, touching his hat.
"Obey orders," answered the captain sternly. The sailor went below with
a sulky fling.
For nearly an hour the two vessels cut through the water before a steady
breeze, during which time the fast-sailing schooner gradually overhauled
the heavy West Indiaman, until she approached within speaking distance.
Still Captain Ellice paid no attention to her, but stood with compressed
lips beside the man at the wheel, gazing alternately at the sails of his
vessel and at the windward horizon, where he fancied he saw indications
that led him to hope the breeze would fail ere long.
As the schooner drew nearer, a man leaped on the hammock-nettings, and,
putting a trumpet to his mouth, sang out lustily, "Ship ahoy! where are
you from, and what's your cargo?"
Captain Ellice made no reply, but ordered four of his men on deck to
point one of the stern-chasers.
Again the voice came harshly across the waves, as if in passion, "Heave
to, or I'll sink you." At the same moment the black flag was run up to
the peak, and a shot passed between the main and fore masts.
"Stand by to point this gun," said the captain in a subdued voice.
"Ay, ay, sir!"
"Fetch a red-hot iron; luff, luff a little--a little more steady--so."
At the last word there was a puff and a roar, and an iron messenger flew
towards the schooner. The gun had been fired more as a reply of
defiance to the pirate than with the hope of doing him any damage; but
the shot had been well aimed--it cut the schooner's main-sail-yard in
two and brought it rattling down on deck. Instantly the pirate yawed and
delivered a broadside; but in the confusion on deck the guns were badly
aimed, and none took effect. The time lost in this manoeuvre, added to
the crippled condition of the schooner, enabled the West Indiaman to
gain considerably on her antagonist; but the pirate kept up a
well-directed fire with his bow-chasers, and many of the shots struck
the hull and cut the rigging seriously. As the sun descended towards the
horizon the wind fell gradually, and ceased at length altogether, so
that both vessels lay rolling on the swell with their sails flapping
idly against the masts.
"They're a-gittin' out the boats, sir," remarked John Buzzby, who,
unable to restrain himself any longer, had crept upon deck at the risk
of another reprimand; "and, if my eyes be'n't deceiving me, there's a
sail on the horizon to wind'ard--leastways, the direction which _wos_
wind'ard afore it fell calm."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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