Under Wolfe's Flag; or, The Fight for the Canadas

The lads drew themselves up to their full height, and told the captain that they were fifteen, and that they had walked sixty miles to reach Liverpool, and that they meant to go to sea, if not aboard his ship, then aboard some other vessel.

"Take an old sea-captain's advice, lads. Don't go to sea till you're twenty, and then you'll never go at all. The sea's not exactly the place for young gentlemen like you. Go home to your mothers."

"We've got no mothers, or perhaps we shouldn't have come here!" said Jack, flushing up a little at the captain's words.

"Oh, come now, my little bantams. If that's so it alters the case. For the boy who hasn't got a mother the sea's not a bad place. Just tell me who you are, and where you come from?"

So they told him all, for there was a glint of kindness in that stern face, and a twinkle in those clear, grey-blue eyes that gained their confidence. They even told the story of Old Click and Beagle, and the lock-up. When they described the manner in which they had held the keepers at bay with the wood-chunks, till they were burnt out, both the captain and the old pilot laughed heartily, and when they had described their long, wearisome tramp to find Captain Elliot's ship, the skipper clapped them on the shoulder and said–

"Bravo! You've got grit and pluck enough to become admirals. Captain Elliot, did you say?"

"Yes, sir, Captain Elliot."

"Of what ship?"

"The Ilawara. He is my uncle, and he promised I should go to sea with him when I was fifteen. Do you know him, sir?"

"Why, yes! We were boys together aboard the frigate Monmouth. We had many a fight with the French in those days, and many a close shave too. Fancy you being his nephew." Then turning to the old pilot, the captain said, "What say you, William? Shall I take the young gamecocks? I like them, but the sea's a rough place for young lads."

The pilot brought a pair of kindly eyes to bear upon the youngsters, as though he envied their youth and outlook upon life, and longed to be young again, and then said–

"Take 'em, Captain Forbes. A voyage will do them no harm. 'Tisn't as though they were taken crying from their mothers. It'll larn 'em a useful lesson. 'Tis just the way I went to sea meself. Take 'em."

"Get aboard, youngsters, and report yourself to Mr. Rogers, the first mate."

The youngsters did get aboard. Their hearts were thumping with pride and glee, for they had gained their hearts' desire, and before long they had cleared the Mersey bar and were standing out to sea, sailing out into the sunset. When the pilot went overboard, he nodded to them, and hoped that they'd come home some day "Admirals of the Blue."

As soon as his duties permitted, Captain Forbes himself took them in hand and assigned them their work. He supplied them each with a middy's outfit, enrolled their names on the ship's books, and gave them a small cabin near his own. Although the captain had taken a special fancy to them, they were not to find it all honey, however. They were to help the men to take in sail, to share in the watches, to personally attend upon the captain, and to do much monotonous and arduous work, but they never shied at it and never disobeyed a superior officer. Each day, however, several hours were set aside for study, and the captain provided the books and set the lessons, which were in mathematics, navigation and seamanship.

Captain Forbes took a kind and fatherly interest in the lads, though he never relaxed for one moment that stern discipline which is so necessary for a headstrong youth. He taught them that the only way to learn how to command others was by first learning how to command themselves. Nevertheless, to set matters right at home he had sent a letter by the pilot, addressed to Jack's father, telling him where the lads were, and asking him not to be uneasy on their account, as one voyage would soon settle whether their future was to be upon the sea or not. Under these favourable conditions our heroes soon got their "sea-legs," and made rapid progress in their new studies, though they never forget the dreadful fright they received the first time they were sent aloft in bad weather.

One dark night, in a fierce gale off the Irish coast, they were ordered to assist the men in furling the main-top-gallant and main-royal sails. The vessel was creaking and straining beneath them; rolling uneasily in the trough of the sea. Long before they reached the crosstrees their hearts were thumping wildly and their teeth were chattering with fright, and for a moment Jack wished that he were safe ashore, even if in the old village lock-up again; but the worst was yet to come.

Far down beneath them the slippery decks seemed black as night, except when a huge green wave swept it from stem to stern. The captain was shouting orders to the men aloft, as though the lives of all aboard depended upon a ready compliance, and for a while the men in the rigging seemed helpless. The hoarse voice of the first mate was heard calling to the men who were struggling at the wheel, and all seemed confusion.

Still, the lads felt that the eyes of the captain were upon them, and they did not come down till their work was done, although when they reached the yards they thought their last moment had come, as the canvas filled like a huge bladder, and nearly hurled them off into the boiling surf and the destruction that threatened them below. They remained at their posts, assisting the men, hanging on sometimes by their teeth, until the sails were dragged in and furled, and the gaskets made fast and true.

After that experience they soon acquired more confidence and were easily at home, whether aloft or below, in fact, if anything, they preferred to be aloft. 'Tis possible, even, that they might have adopted the sea as a profession, and that their names might have come down to us with some of the illustrious admirals of that period, but for an incident which happened when they had been about four weeks at sea, and which changed the course of their lives once more.

They were within two hundred leagues of Cape Cod on the New England coast, and they were congratulating themselves on having escaped the vigilance of the enemy's cruisers, for they had a valuable cargo aboard, destined for Boston, when the following incident happened. Seven bells had just sounded in the middle watch, and both Jamie and Jack were on duty, perched on the crosstrees in the foretop. It was very cold up there, and they were both longing for the end of the watch that they might descend and warm themselves at the galley fire and appease their ravenous hunger before turning in for a sleep. Day was just breaking away to the east, but ahead it was still dark and a little cloudy. Suddenly, through a rift in the clouds, over there in the north-west, towards the coast of the French Canadas, Jamie saw a tiny speck, low down on the horizon. He was about to hail the deck, but first pointed it out to Jack.

"What can it be?"

"Take the glass, Jamie. My hands are so numbed and cold I cannot keep it still."

Jamie took the telescope, and steadying himself for an instant, he leaned against the mast and held the glass to his eye. As he brought it to bear on that speck, the cry involuntarily burst from his lips–

"A sail! A sail!"

"Where away?" called the first mate from the deck.

"On the starboard bow, sir, north-west by west."

"What do you make of her?"

"Can't raise her hull yet, sir, but she must be a big ship, for she carries a good head of canvas."

Almost instantly the mate was up in the fore-top, carefully examining the stranger. As he did so a grave look crossed his face.

"Anything wrong, sir?" queried Jamie.

"I don't like the look of her. I fear she's no friend. We may have to run." Again he examined her. Then, shutting up the glass with a bang, he said–

"Go down, Elliot, and call the captain."

"Aye, aye, sir."

While the captain was being called, eight bells sounded the end of the watch, and though Jack had been eagerly longing for that blessed sound before, he would now willingly have remained aloft to watch that distant speck, which seemed fraught with such danger.

As he reached the deck he met the captain coming up the companion ladder. The latter immediately called out to the first mate, who had remained aloft–

"Is she showing any colours, Mr. Rogers?"

"Not yet, sir!"

"What do you think she is?"

"She's a cruiser, sir. Of that I'm pretty certain, but whether English or French I can't yet say."

At this alarming news, the captain himself went aloft and keenly examined the movements of the stranger for a few minutes, and then said–

"She's a French cruiser, Mr. Rogers, and a fast one too. We must either fight her or show her a clean pair of heels."

In a few minutes the Duncan's course was altered. Every stitch of canvas that she could carry was flung out. Royals and stuns'ls were set, and with the foam surging under her bows she fairly bounded through the water, leaving a wake astern that was a mile long.

CHAPTER V

THE FIGHT WITH THE FRIGATE

There was no little excitement aboard when it became known that the distant sail, "hull down" upon the horizon, was probably a French frigate.

"Look at her white canvas, and her large, square yards!" exclaimed Jamie. "She must be a man-of-war, and even if she's only a frigate she'll carry thirty guns against our ten, and treble the number of men."

"If she is a Frenchman she'll sink us, that's certain, though I hope Captain Forbes will make a fight of it," replied Jack, who could not entirely suppress a feeling akin to dread, as he watched the approaching ship.

"There's just a chance that she may be a friend, after all, for even the English cruisers do not always show their colours to the quarry until all chance of escape is cut off."

"It's just possible, of course, for there should be plenty of them hereabouts. Mr. Rogers tells me that last year they brought no less than three hundred French ships and their crews into English ports."