The Noank's Log: A Privateer of the Revolution

"That's what I'll do," said McGahan, with a comical twist of his face. "I'd like to ploonder a privateer. Hurrah for King Garge! Doon wid all rebels! – exceptin' it may be Oirish rebels, and I'm wan o' thim. Ye may sind over a party wid goons and cutlashes to rob me o' the bafe and mutton. I'm thinking there's a good catch o' fish, along shore, but the fisher folk'd niver evade the coostoms to get a little 'baccy."

His boatmen had been listening, and he had not been whispering. One of them now sang out: —

"Your Worship! Plaze tell the bloody pirates to fetch along their plug, and sthale the fish! We're oll a wake sort o' people, riddy to be ploondhered."

It was a bargain! Boats came and went, after that, and when Captain Syme himself expressed his curiosity concerning them, he was sadly informed that the American freebooters had demanded supplies.

Captain Avery did not waste any time in carrying out his part of the contract. He led an overpowering party of well-armed men to the elegant country-seat of The McGahan, two miles away. A cart which was driven along with him contained a number of small boxes and bales.

"Some of McGahan's neighbors," he explained to Guert, "are as ready to be robbed as he is. I'll not have to pay a dollar of cash. The balance o' this trade'll come the other way. If we dared stay, we could sell out our whole cargo."

Guert was getting hold of several new ideas. One was, that a great many Irishmen were about as devoted to the British government as were the people of America. Another was, that war expenses were large and that British taxes were heavy. A great part of the revenue collected came from duties upon imported goods, and these imposts were such as to practically offer bribes to all smugglers.

"I see," he said to the captain. "It was the duty on imported tea that set our war for independence a-going."

"No!" replied Captain Avery. "That was only one p'int in the 'count. We had enough else to fight for. I can tell you one thing, though. All the Irish people'd be up in arms, to-day, if they had any George Washington to lead them. They are treated badly; worse, in some things, than we were."

Neither going nor coming did Guert hear any blessings uttered upon England. The fat oxen and the sheep were hurriedly driven to the shore. Some butchering was done at once, and some salting, but the sailors managed to convey to the schooner more live stock than there was room for. One large sheep-pen was constructed amidships, below deck, that there might be fresh mutton as long as possible. Near it were cattle-stalls, and these would soon be empty, with so large a crew of hungry eaters ready for roast beef and boiled. As for the fish they came along in abundance, and casks of sea-water were provided for their keeping. With them came fishermen and women and dozen of boys and girls, all wild with curiosity concerning the "bloody privateer."

One day more did the Noank linger at her pleasant anchorage. Thus, just as the sun was nearing the western horizon, Up-na-tan, at the beach in the small boat, with its regular crew, raised his hand.

"Whoo-oop!" sounded his war-cry of warning.

"Hark!" said Guert. "That's a bugle! British troops coming! Off we go!"

A gun from the Noank told that the lookout on board had been as alert as was the red man himself.

"Aff wid yez!" yelled a fisherwoman, running frantically toward them. "It's the Donegal Rigimint o' cavalry! They'd cut yez all down! Be aff!"

The boat was pulled swiftly away, and as it did so the head of a fine column of uniformed horsemen came trotting out to where it could be seen.

"Charge 'em! Charge 'em!" roared a rider in civilian rig at the side of their commander. "It's your duty, sir, to seize that pirate schooner! They've carried aff more'n twinty head o' fat bafe for me. You're answerable to the king if you let 'em get away!"

"All right!" replied the cavalry major, coolly. "We'll charge the schooner. You ride on board, if you will, and tell 'em we're coming."

"It's not me duty," responded the excited McGahan. "It's a poor patrol ye're kaping, whin a booccaneer can sail in and ploonder the coast."

Straight to the shore the dragoons, for such they were called, rode fearlessly onward, and the Noank fired a salute for them while she swung out flag after flag, fore and aft.

"They'll know the stars and stripes when they see it again," laughed Captain Avery. "They're fools, though, to expose themselves in that way. We might damage 'em badly, at this range."

"She's an American privateer! Can that be a fact?" exclaimed the British officer, in blank astonishment. "'Pon my soul, I couldn't believe it till I saw it! I'm sure enough, now. Why, McGahan, you are correct. My dear old boy, you couldn't help yourself."

"Of coorse I couldn't," replied the robbed Irish gentleman. "I'm glad you can belave me, at last. What do you think o' the impidence of 'em?"

"It's fine!" exclaimed the major.

That was the striking feature of it. Even in later days, it was difficult for the country people of England to realize that such American pirates as John Paul Jones, for instance, were actually attacking the British islands.

Leisurely, tauntingly, the crew of the Noank lifted their anchor. No hostile shot was fired at the gallant-looking horsemen, and the major confidently ventured out in a fishing boat until he was near enough to hail. He was a bright-eyed, daring fellow and his first remark was an oddity.

"Captain Avery, is it?" he said. "Fine schooner of yours, I'd say. I was thinking of making a dash. I might surround you, you know. But if you are going, I'll let you go."

"I wish you would," called back the captain of the Noank. "Would you like to come aboard? I'll give you a box of Cuba cigars."

"Thank you kindly," said the major. "I'll not trouble you to that extent. I'm Major Avery of the Donegal Dragoons. I didn't know there were any of the name in America. Sorry to find an Avery fighting against his king."

"Well," said the captain, "you're out a little, there. He is your king, not ours, and he is fighting us."

"All right! – or rather, it's all wrong," replied the brave major. "The king'll have his own again, before long. Your cruise'll be a short one, if you run around in these waters."

"Oh," said the captain, "they're safe enough. We can get away from the cavalry, and from the tubs, too."

"Tubs, eh? That's what you call 'em? You'll find that some of 'em are pretty large tubs."

"Good-by!" shouted back the captain. "I'm glad to find one more good-looking Avery. Come and visit at my house as soon as the war's over."

The sails of the Noank were taking the breeze. She swung away seaward, bowing to the cavalry and to the swarm of fisher folk, and these forgot their loyalty to England so far that they cheered her lustily.

"Do you know, Guert," remarked the captain, thoughtfully, "this is about the worst side of our war! It has set old neighbors against each other, and even kinfolk. Why! Old Ben Franklin himself has a son that's an out and out Tory. He is the British Tory governor of New Jersey. He and his father don't speak to each other. There's more like 'em."

"That's so, sir," said Guert. "Some first-rate fellows that I used to know in New York went off on the wrong side. Steve de Lancey was one of 'em. I used to take his boat whenever I wanted to, and they were all real good neighbors."

The recently appointed first mate of the Noank, taking Sam Prentice's place and responsibilities, broke up the study of civil war evils.

"Where away now, Captain?" he inquired. "Our being here'll be known wide enough."

"We won't be here, Morgan," replied the captain. "We are goin' right up St. George's Channel. We may run all the way around the islands and reach Amsterdam from the north."

"That is," said Morgan, "if we get there at all. It's just as that dragoon said: there are a good many king's cruisers hereaway. Big ones, too."

"We are safest in a crowd," replied the captain. "Our best plan is to be where they won't dream of our darin' to go."

"No doubt about that," said Morgan. "I'm agreed we're likely to pick up something worth taking if we watch, while we're making such a run as that."

"We'll go ashore, here and there, too," laughed the captain, "and show 'em the flag."

CHAPTER XVII

VERY SHARP SHOOTING

"Anneke Ten Eyck," remarked Rachel Tarns, in the kitchen of the Avery house, "I am glad for thee. Thy brave son's share of the prize-money taketh thee out of thy distresses. Thou wilt have more, if he continueth to serve our good king after this fashion. Thee may be proud of him."

"Rachel!" exclaimed Mrs. Ten Eyck, "you know I'm glad to have the money and to pay my debts with it, but I wish it didn't come from plunder. I can't help pitying all the people that have lost their ships and their property."

"I also am sorry for them," said Rachel. "Doubtless, war is a sin and an evil. I pray much for the return of peace. Thee should bear in mind, though, that both sides have sinned, and that therefore both must suffer while the war lasteth."

"Our American people are suffering terribly," said Mrs. Ten Eyck. "I wish I could send something to Washington's army. I have heard say that the colonies are becoming exhausted, while England is as rich as ever."