Part 14 (1/2)

By the time that breakfast was over there was a sensible diminution in the force of the wind, and by noon it cleared away sufficiently overhead to enable me to get an observation, not a particularly good one certainly--the sea was running far too high for that; but it enabled me to ascertain that we were at least sixty miles to the southward of Staten.

About four p.m. I got a very much better observation for my longitude, and I found by it that our drift had not been anything like so great as I had calculated it would be. This I thought might possibly arise from our being in a weather-setting current.

There was still rather too much of both wind and sea to make us disposed to get under way that night, but we managed to get the craft up to the buoy of our floating-anchor, which we weighed and let go again with five fathoms of buoy-rope.

This was to prevent as much as possible any further drift to leeward, and to take full advantage of the current, the existence of which we suspected.

Next morning, however, the weather had so far moderated that, tired of our long inaction, we resolved to make a start once more, so shaking the reefs out of the trysail, and rigging our bowsprit out far enough to set a small jib, we got our floating-anchor in, and stood away to the southward and westward, with the wind out from about west-nor'-west.

Volume One, Chapter X.

CHASED BY PIRATES.

The weather now rapidly became finer, and the ocean, no longer lashed into fury by the breath of the tempest, subsided once more into long regular undulations. The wind hauled gradually more round from the northward too, and blew warm and balmy; a most welcome change after the raw and chilly weather we had lately experienced.

We once more cracked on sail upon the little _Water Lily_; and on the morning following that upon which we filled away upon our course, finding by observation that we were well clear of the Cape, and that we had plenty of room even should the wind once more back round from the westward, we hauled close-up, and stood away on a nor'-west-and-by-westerly course.

Nothing of importance occurred for more than a week. The weather continued settled, and the gla.s.s stood high; the wind was out at about north, and sufficiently moderate to permit of our carrying our jib-headed topsail; and day after day we flew forward upon our course, seldom making less than ten knots in the hour, and occasionally reaching as high as thirteen.

We were perfectly jubilant; for having rounded the Cape in safety we now considered our troubles over and our ultimate success as certain. We were fairly in the Pacific, the region of fine weather; and our little barkie had behaved so well in the gale that our confidence in her seaworthiness was thoroughly established; so that all fear of future danger from bad weather was completely taken off our minds.

One morning, the wind having fallen considerably lighter during the preceding night, as soon as breakfast was over I roused up our square-headed topsail, with the intention of setting it in the room of the small one.

But when I proceeded to take the latter in, I found that the halliards were somehow jammed aloft, and I s.h.i.+nned up to clear them. No sailor, if he really be a _seaman_, and not a tinker or a tailor, ever goes aloft without taking a good look round him; so after I had cleared the halliards I clung to the slim spar for a minute or two whilst I swept the horizon carefully around.

”Sail ho!” shouted I, as I caught a glimpse of the royals of a vessel gleaming snowy white in the brilliant suns.h.i.+ne far away in the south-western board.

”Where away?” shouted Bob.

”Broad on our lee-bow,” I answered, still clinging to the thin wire topmast shrouds.

”What d'ye make her out to be, Harry, my lad?” was the next question.

”Either a barque or a brig,” answered I; ”the latter I am inclined to believe, though he is still too far away for his mizzen-mast to show, if he has one.”

”Why d'ye think it's a brig, Harry?” queried Bob.

”His canvas looks too small for that of a barque,” replied I, as I slid down on deck, having seen all that it was possible to see at present.

”Then it's that--_Albatross_ again, for a thousand,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bob in a tone of deep disgust. ”That's just the p'int where he might reasonably be looked for. He made sail long enough afore we did, a'ter the gale had blowed itself out, and consequently got a good long leg to the west'ard of us; but as we've been steering perhaps a couple of p'ints higher than he has for most of the time since, we've overhauled him; and now he's come round to go to the nor'ard, and we've fallen in with him once more.”

I was inclined to take the same view of the matter that Bob did. It is true that when once a s.h.i.+p pa.s.ses out of sight at sea you can never be sure of her exact position afterwards; yet, under certain circ.u.mstances, taking the direction of the wind and the state of the weather as data upon which to base your argument, and, in conjunction with these, the course the vessel was steering when last seen, or the part of the world to which you have reason to believe she is bound, it is astonis.h.i.+ng how near a guess may be and is not unfrequently made as to her whereabouts.

Now we knew that the _Albatross_ was bound to the Pacific when we last saw her, because she was then hove-to, evidently with the intention of maintaining as weatherly a position as possible. Had she been bound to the eastward, the weather was not so bad at that time as to have prevented her scudding before it, which she undoubtedly would have done under such circ.u.mstances, making a fair wind of it.

At the same time there was of course a possibility of our being mistaken as to the craft in sight being the pirate brig, it being by no means an unusual thing for vessels as small as she was, or even smaller, to venture round the Cape.

”Well,” said I, ”perhaps it will be safest, Bob, to a.s.sume for the present that this brig _is_ the _Albatross_. What, under such circ.u.mstances, is your advice?”

”Which of us has the weather-gage, d'ye think?” queried Bob.