Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.Anonymous
History
Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy: A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities.
Anonymous
Mutiny; Pirates; Seafaring life; Shipwrecks
Six or seven months after the strangers joined me, three of them,
along with myself, took a four oared canoe, for the purpose of hunting
and killing tortoise on Bonacco. During our absence the rest repaired
their canoes, and prepared to go over to the Bay of Honduras, to
examine how matters stood there, and bring off their remaining
effects, in case it were dangerous to return. But before they had
departed, we were on our voyage homewards, having a full load of pork
and tortoise, as our object was successfully accomplished. While
entering the mouth of the harbor, in a moonlight evening, we saw a
great flash, and heard a report much louder than that of a musket,
proceed from a large periagua, which we observed near the Castle of
Comfort. This put us in extreme consternation, and we knew not what to
consider; but in a minute we heard a volley from eighteen or twenty
small arms, discharged towards the shore, and also some returned from
it.--Satisfied that an enemy, either Spaniards or pirates, was
attacking our people, and being intercepted from them by periaguas
lying between us and the shore, we thought the safest plan was trying
to escape. Therefore, taking down our little mast and sail, that they
might not betray us, we rowed out of the harbor as fast as possible,
towards an island about a mile and a half distant, to retreat
undiscovered. But the enemy either having seen us before lowering our
sail, or heard the noise of the oars, followed with all speed, in an
eight or ten oared periagua. Observing her approach, and fast gaining
on us, we rowed with all our might to make the nearest shore. However,
she was at length enabled to discharge a swivel, the shot from which
passed over our canoe. Nevertheless, we contrived to reach the shore
before being completely within the range of small arms, which our
pursuers discharged on us while landing.
They were now near enough to cry aloud that they were pirates, and not
Spaniards, and that we need not dread them, as we should get good
quarter; thence supposing that we should be the easier induced to
surrender. Yet nothing could have been said to discourage me more from
putting myself in their power; I had the utmost dread of a pirate, and
my original aversion was now enhanced, by the apprehension of being
sacrificed for my former desertion. Thus, concluding to keep as clear
of them as I could, and the Honduras Bay men having no great
inclination to do otherwise, we made the best of our way to the woods.
Our pursuers carried off the canoe, with all its contents, resolving,
if we would not go to them, to deprive us, as far as possible, of all
means of subsistence where we were. But it gave me, who had known both
want and solitude, little concern, now that I had company, and there
were arms among us to procure provision, and also fire wherewith to
dress it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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