Across the Spanish Main by Harry Collingwood (best e reader for android TXT) 📕

found that the ships were at that moment in longitude 73 degrees west and latitude 15 degrees North; so that, going by the chart, there ought not to be any land in sight for several days at least.

“This particular part of the Caribbean Sea, sir, is not very greatly frequented by English ships,” said Leigh in explanation; “but the Spaniards, no doubt, know these waters well, and yonder island may perhaps be laid down on one of their charts.”

“Very possibly,” answered the skipper; “but we have no Spanish charts. The next Spaniard we capture, however, we will search for her charts, which will certainly be of the utmost use to us.”

During the foregoing conversation Roger had come down from aloft to report still further to the captain, and he had overheard the last remark, which immediately reminded him that he had brought certain charts away from the cabin of the Gloria del Mundo; in fact, Harry and he had found their cipher concealed in the folds of one of them. He had intended to give them to his captain, but subsequent stirring events had driven the idea out of his mind.

Having now recollected them, however, he explained the matter to Cavendish, and asked if he should bring the charts up on deck.

“By all means,” replied the skipper; “let us have them at once, Trevose, my man.”

Roger dived below, and soon reappeared with the charts under his arm. They were immediately spread open on the deck and overhauled, and all were found to be of the utmost importance; some papers also being found among them giving the bearings and soundings of certain secret channels leading to ports on the South American coast. There were also found plans of towns and fortresses that would prove of inestimable value to them. These last were forthwith placed in safety for future reference, and a chart was presently discovered showing that particular portion of the ocean upon which they were now sailing; and, sure enough, there was a small island marked in the precise spot occupied by the one for which they were heading. There was, in ink, a description of the island—written, of course, in Spanish,—setting forth that it had been named “Isla de Corsarios”, and that it was, according to English measurements, two and a half miles long by one mile broad; also that it was uninhabited. The description, written as a marginal note, further stated that there was a spring of fresh water on the island, and that there were palm-trees thereon; that the islet was of sandy soil, and supported no vegetation beyond the few palms mentioned.

“This, then, explains the matter,” said Cavendish. “Evidently it has been missed by our vessels, but the Dons have located it. I can clearly see that these charts will be indeed very useful to us.”

By this time the island could be made out from the level of the deck, as also the smoke, which was undoubtedly rising from a signal-fire that had been lighted on the beach. The ships were, however, not yet near enough to make out who the inhabitants were, nor how many of them there might be. Indeed, had it not been for the sight of the smoke, the captain would have imagined the island to be totally uninhabited, and would not have thought it worth while to stop thereat; and, but for the fact of the smoke being observed, this veracious yarn would most probably have had a very different ending.

All the officers of the ship, including Cavendish, Roger, and Harry, were now standing in the eyes of the vessel; some had mounted the bulwarks, and were supporting themselves thereon by holding on to the rigging, and one and all were shading their eyes with their hands against the powerful rays of an almost vertical sun, each anxious to catch the first sight of the man, or men, who had built that signal-fire on the beach.

In obedience to an order from Cavendish, old Martin, who was credited with having the sharpest eyes in the ship, went aloft to the foremast-head, on the lookout, with instructions to let those on deck know when he first caught sight of the inhabitants of the island.

In about a quarter of an hour they had very perceptibly neared the shore, which lay very low, and presented, at a closer view, more the appearance of a mud or sand-bank, with a few dwarfed trees and shrubs growing thereon, than an island in its accepted sense of the word; and shortly afterward Martin’s voice came down from aloft in accents of excitement: “I see un, zir; there ’a be. ’Tes only one man, zir, so far as Ai can mek out, and ’a be a-waving of a red shirt, or zummat laike that, Ai think, zir.”

“Can you only see one man, Martin; or are there any more with him, think you?” shouted Cavendish.

“Naw, zir,” responded the old fellow; “as Ai zay, Ai can only zee one of ’em, and ’e do be a-carryin’ on zumthing wonnerful, zir. ’E be a-jumpin’ up an’ down, and a-wavin’ of his arms laike to one possessed. Ai expec’s as how un belaives us ’aven’t zeen un, an’ wants to attrac’ our attention.”

“Very well, Martin,” answered the captain; “stay where you are, man,” as he perceived the old fellow making preparations to descend, “stay where you are. Keep a sharp lookout, and let me know if anything further takes place, or if any more men make their appearance.

“I expect, gentlemen,” said the captain, turning to the assembled officers, “that there is only one man there; the others would have joined him by this time, had there been any more of them. In a way, I am sorry; for I could very well have done with a great many more men—always provided, of course, that they had been Englishmen,—for we are, as you all know, very short-handed. This man is possibly the sole survivor of a shipwrecked crew; but, as there seems, so far as we can see at present, to be no trace of others being there, I should be more inclined to think that he has been marooned. Marooning is, of course, a very common practice, particularly among pirates, and, in my opinion, it is one of the most cruel forms of punishment ever conceived by the brain of man. Now, it has occurred to me as quite within the limits of possibility that this man ashore there may be a marooned member of the crew of that scoundrel, José Leirya. It would not be so very extraordinary, after all, if he were. Leirya is practically the only pirate at present in these seas, and we are all aware that marooning is practised chiefly among pirates. Should it happen to be as I somewhat suspect, the man will, at all events, know something worth telling us about that arch villain; for I shall never be happy until I have hunted the scoundrel down, and hanged him for the dog he is!”

The captain’s face blazed with righteous anger as he spoke, and his expression was reflected on the countenances of the officers gathered round him. It boded ill indeed for the pirate if ever the squadron should fall in with him.

“Send a man into the chains,” continued Cavendish, speaking to Roger. “As the land lies so low in the water, it is not unlikely that the water round it is very shoal, and I have no wish to get any of the vessels ashore if I can help it. And order the signalman to signal the rest of the fleet to keep the lead going.”

Roger obeyed, and a leadsman was soon perched in the chains to windward, busy with his sounding-line to ascertain the depth of water in which they were then sailing, and to give timely warning if the water should begin to shoal dangerously.

“Seven fathoms now, sir!” reported Hearst, the leadsman.

“Very well,” answered Cavendish; “we are safe as yet,” turning to Leigh. “Let her go through the water.”

The other vessels were strung out behind the Stag Royal, and they fell into her wake for their greater safety; for she drew more water than any of the rest, being a much larger vessel, and where she could go the rest could follow. They were running along with a fresh breeze on their starboard beam, and making about six knots an hour. They were therefore rapidly nearing the island, and could by this time discern the solitary occupant from the deck. He still continued to wave the red shirt, or whatever it was, that they had at first seen, and it appeared as though even now he could scarcely convince himself that he had yet been seen, although the fleet was heading directly for the island, for he continued his wild gestures—leaping into the air, and waving his arms like one possessed.

“Six fathoms!” came the voice of the leadsman from the chains.

“We can stand in some way farther yet,” commented Cavendish. “I want to take the ship in as near as I can, so that the men may not have far to pull in the boat. Furthermore, gentlemen, by the look of the sky, methinks that a gale is brewing, and it will be well that the boat get not too far away from the ship.”

“Five and a half fathoms!” chanted the leadsman a few minutes later.

“’Tis well. Still keep her going as she is,” ordered the captain.

The people on deck could now see the poor solitary on the beach quite distinctly, and presently he came running down to the water’s edge, still waving his red flag; and so eager did he appear for rescue that it seemed as though he intended to swim off to the ships, for he waded into the sea up to his arm-pits.

“I pray Heaven that he does nothing so foolish!” murmured Roger, who still remembered his own experience with the sharks.

The unfortunate man had no such intention, it presently appeared; yet was he still in a sufficiently dangerous situation, for he stopped where he was with the water up round his shoulders, and continued waving his signal of distress.

“Five fathoms bare!” was the next report of the man with the sounding-line.

“We can edge in even a little farther yet,” remarked the captain. “But I cannot understand,” he continued, “why that man persists in acting so strangely. He must know by this time that we have seen him and will rescue him, yet he continues to signal with his arms and that red rag as though he were demented. It would not greatly surprise me to find, when we get him on board, that his brain has given way with the horror of solitude, suffering, and privation.”

“By your leave, sir, it seems very much to me,” suggested Roger, touching his hat, “as though the poor fellow were striving not so much to attract us nearer as to warn us to keep farther away.”

“Why, boy, prithee what puts that idea into your head?” retorted the captain rather testily. “Why should he wish us to keep off? Surely if you were in his place you would be fully as anxious as he appears to be to have the rescuing ships approach and take you off without delay?”

“What I meant to suggest, Mr Cavendish,” responded Roger rather stiffly, and not one whit abashed by his commander’s testiness, “was that perchance this man knows the shoals and rocks round the island well. He may perceive that we are sailing into danger, and wish to warn us from approaching any closer before it be too late.”

“Zounds, boy!” shouted Cavendish, “’fore Heaven I believe that you may be right in your assumption!”

Then, turning to the crew: “All hands stand by to veer ship!” he cried.

But even as he spoke there was a sudden check to the vessel’s way, and almost instantly she stopped dead, the sudden shock throwing more than one man prostrate on the deck. At the same moment the leadsman in the