The Rescue Read online

  His mind drifted from the heat to the figures and to the sloop they had chased. She had shown the American Stars and Bars, dawdled, dared Hornet to give chase. There was little choice but to do so even though he had not sighted Stinger. The chase had lasted until full-on dark and without a moon, the sloop escaped. The affair was curious and he stated such in the log. During the night, he considered the sloop's actions. Something about the encounter nagged at his thoughts, so much so that he decided that at first light to sail along the western coast of Anegada.

  Dewitt had been correct, the wind began to stir just as the bell struck for the dogwatch. A few minutes passed and a tapping at the door claimed Donland’s attention. David stepped forward wearing only a shirt and britches. His hat was under his arm. The boy and grown considerably through the winter.

  “Mister Jackson’s, compliments sir, a ship has been sighted,” David said.

  “Laying-to?” Donland asked as he reached for his shirt.

  “Aye, sir, in a little cove.”

  “What of her rigging?”

  “Two masts sir, square-rigged.”

  “The sloop perhaps?”

  “No sir, smaller craft.”

  Donland was glad for the distraction. “Let us see what fortune has laid at our feet,” he said with a half-smile.

  He left his coat in the cabin and went in his shirt. David followed as he ascended the ladder.

  “Large ketch sir, just yonder,” Ashcroft said and pointed. Adding, “watering party I suspect.”

  Donland lifted the glass and found the sail-less ship anchored close inshore. He studied her for several seconds. “Dutch I believe,” he said.

  Jackson came to Donland’s side. “Aye, judging by her bow I would agree,” he stated.

  A slight breeze filled the sails. Donland studied the small vessel for several long minutes while waiting for the breeze to become more than a pleasant respite from the heat. It gradually began to strengthen and held. Hornet’s sails filled. “We shall investigate. Call the hands to quarters if you please Mister Jackson. Larboard guns I should think,” Donland said as he handed the glass to David to stow.

  “Reefed topsails sir?” Jackson asked.

  “Aye, and the mizzen,” Donland said as he studied his quarry.

  “She’s not making an effort to set sails,” Ashcroft observed.

  “I should think not, there is damage in her aft quarter,” Donland answered. He handed the glass to David and said, “Keep watch!”

  A drop of tar splattered on the deck at Donland’s feet. He looked down at it and then into the rigging. He mused, “this may require hot work on a hot day.”

  As men hurried to their duty stations, Donland ordered, “Marines to the tops!”

  “Two boats on the beach, sir!” David reported.

  Donland took the glass from David and found the two boats. He counted four men.

  “Where the deuce are the others?” he wondered aloud.

  Hornet’s rudder held her on a north by east heading. The ketch lay no more than a half-mile ahead.

  “Mister Jackson bring us parallel and we will lie-to!” Donland shouted.

  “Aye sir,” Jackson answered and began to bark orders.

  “Mister Aldridge, unleash the larboard guns!” Donland bellowed to make himself heard over the din of the ship clearing for action.

  Hornet’s way began to come off of her as the helmsman brought the wheel over to give the larboard guns a target.

  “Run up our colors, Mister Welles,” Donland ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” David answered.

  Every hand not engaged in sail-handing or preparing the guns eyed the small ship.

  “No more than eight men on her deck Captain,” Ashcroft said.

  “What of her rudder Mister Ashcroft?” Donland asked.

  Ashcroft refocused his glass. After several seconds he said, “Gone sir, appears shot away.”

  Donland heard but did not reply. He scanned the shore with the telescope. Sweat trickled down his back and under his arms. The ship became quiet; the few who spoke did so in whispers. Something was amiss, something dangerous, he sensed it as did the others. He lowered the glass and considered the wind, it was strengthening. He stepped to the helmsman, “Haul the rudder to starboard,” he said softly.

  “Mister Welles, my compliments to Mister Jackson ask that he attend me. Do so quietly and at leisure.”

  Welles voice betrayed confusion, “Aye, sir.”

  Welles approached Jackson and relayed the message. Donland read surprise on Jackson’s face as he started for the quarterdeck.

  Softly Donland stated his intention, “Something is amiss Mister Jackson, I can't put a name to it but there is a danger here. Go forward and pass the word to set the top’sls. My intention is to let those watching think we are going to close with the ketch but we will not. The rudder is already to starboard so at my order, we will lose all sail and gain as much distance as possible.

  “Aye sir,” Jackson said and nodded.

  Men moved among the rigging. “Let fall!” Jackson ordered.

  The men did as ordered without haste. Hornet’s topsails filled and she began to move.

  “Steerage!” the helmsman called.

  “Deck there! Sail aft,” the lookout called down.

  “All sail Mister Jackson!” Donland shouted.

  Dewitt ambled from the hatchway. “Shoals to the east, captain, deep water due south!”

  “Aye, Mister Dewitt, we’ll seek deep water.”

  The sudden roar of cannon caused every man to turn toward the sound. The ketch had fired two guns and the shots fell harmlessly astern of Hornet.

  “No more than three-pounders,” Donland said to himself feeling a bit of relief.

  As he studied the ketch, his attention was drawn to a brief flash and bellowing smoke drifting on the wind from the jungle some forty yards beyond the ketch’s bow. The boom of a larger gun followed the smoke, the ball splashed into the sea just off Hornet’s bow. “Braces there! Haul!” Jackson shouted as Hornet’s bow bit into the turn.

  “Deck there! Sloop!” the lookout shouted down.

  “Secure the guns, Mister Aldridge!” Donland ordered.

  Donland lifted a glass and turned it aft to sight the oncoming sloop. She had the wind up her skirts and was coming on fast. He checked Hornet’s sails, they were hard and drawing all the wind they could hold. The sloop giving chase may gain distance but would not catch up to Hornet.

  “Mister Dewitt we will come round the island, keep us well out of harm’s way,” Donland said to the master.

  “Aye sir,” Dewitt answered.

  Donland turned to Ashcroft, “Mister Ashcroft you will mind our pursuer. Tell me the instant she tacks or any other changes.”

  “Aye sir,” Ashcroft replied.

  “Mister Jackson, a word!” Donland called. He watched his friend making his way to the quarterdeck; he seemed to be laboring. No doubt the shortness of breath from the knife wound to his lung would remain.

  “That captain will expect us to tack to starboard and will attempt to far reach us. I’ve ordered Mister Dewitt to take us round the island; our fellow will not follow for he’ll not have any more wind than we. He will, therefore, lie-to and wait for us to tack southward. I intend to continue to midway of the island, anchor and send a landing party to burn that ketch.”

  “But what if she continues to give chase?” Jackson asked.

  Donland smiled broadly, “Then we shall have her! Either as a prize or sink her.”

  Hornet continued to gather speed and rounded the headland. Dewitt called out his requirements to Jackson and Jackson bellowed orders to hands aloft and on deck. Donland heard all that was said and was aware of every action. Occasionally, he turned to consider the speed and actions of the sloop pursuing. Foremost in his mind was the possibility of encountering a cohort of the sloop.

  Without warning a ball tore through the rigging ripping the mizzen forecourse. Blocks came dow
n in a clatter and lines twanged as they parted.

  “What the devil?” Dewitt swore.

  Donland turned and saw the faint trace of smoke being whipped away from the oncoming sloop.

  “Big gun in his bow, Captain!” Jackson exclaimed.

  “He’s trying to force us to tack southward,” Donland said in reply. “Another shot through our rigging and she’ll have us.”

  Donland gauged the distance to the nearest headland.

  “Forget the damage Mister Jackson, prepare to tack onto the wind,” Donland said calmly.

  “We’ll come round sir?” Jackson asked.

  “I think not but that is what that captain expects and he will have guns loaded and run out to greet us. I intend to disappoint him. We will begin the tack and stay with it until he orders a tack to pursue then we shall belay and round that headland as tight as possible,” Donland explained.

  Turning to Dewitt he asked, “Mister Dewitt what of that headland?”

  Dewitt drew a glass from the rack and put it to his eye. “Deepwater as we go, closer in and appears to be shoaling. Safe four points in I'd hazard,” Dewitt answered.

  “Very well Mister Dewitt we shall try for five,” Donland said and added, “It’ll take that to see us safe from his guns.”

  “Starboard tack!” Donland shouted loud enough to be heard along the deck.

  “Prepare to tack!” Jackson bellowed

  Men readied themselves at their stations ignoring the danger coming from aft. Each man knew another shot could easily rip through the gunnel and send a shower of wooden sprinters hurling toward them.

  “Haul around!” Jackson shouted.

  Donland counted the seconds when he reached twelve the American sloop's sails began to swing. “Belay!” he shouted.

  “Now Mister Dewitt!” Donland ordered.

  “Four points larboard!” Dewitt shouted to the helmsman.

  “Haul!” Jackson shouted

  Donland watched the pursuing sloop. The captain had not been totally convinced but his men were not as quick off the mark and those under Jackson’s command.

  “Mister Dewitt take us in close to that headland!” Donland ordered.

  “Captain!” Dewitt protested.

  “Now Mister Dewitt!” Donland said firmly.

  “Aye, captain!” Dewitt answered and ordered the helmsman to make the adjustment.

  Hornet’s deck tilted sharply as the rudder forced Hornet into the tight turn.

  The sloop fired her bow chaser. The shot went wide splashing down somewhere ahead off Hornet’s starboard bow.

  “She’s fouled her lines!” Jackson shouted.

  The American’s sails were slack. Donland determined that she would not recover in time to prevent Hornet from clearing the headland. It would take a minute or more to set herself to rights and for her sails to fill. The American’s delay presented a choice, Hornet could either come around with starboard guns ready or wait for a more opportune time. As he pondered the choice, the sloop broached and her ports opened. There was a burst of orange flame as the American fired a broadside. The six shots fell harmlessly behind Hornet’s stern.

  “Nine-pounders!” flashed in Donland’s brain. His decision was made.

  “Two points starboard if you please Mister Dewitt,” Donland said calmly. “We’ve no need to come so close.

  “Aye sir,” Dewitt answered.

  Hornet was almost in irons as she began to round the headland. Her speed so reduced that Donland feared being blown onto the shoal. The pursuing sloop was faring no better.

  “Once round we’ll have the wind sir,” Dewitt assured Donland.

  “Aye,” Donland replied. “Bring us onto the wind and hold it as long as you can. We’ll need all the distance we can gain to be safe from his guns.”

  “Deck there!” the lookout called, “Wreckage off the larboard bow!”

  Donland trained his glass toward the wreck, “One mast and the stub of a second. Appears to be a sloop,” Donland surmised.

  “Deck there, sloop’s going about!” the lookout called.

  “We outfoxed him,” Dewitt mused.

  “Only for the moment,” Donland countered. “The island is so flat he can keep watch on our masts. No matter which way we tack, he intends to give chase. We’ve not seen the last of him. He knows we can’t match him in iron so he will bide his time.”

  “Deck there! Men on the beach!” Bill called down from the mainmast.

  “Where away?” Donland called up.

  “Wreck sir!” Bill answered.

  Donland lifted the glass. Four men stood at the water’s edge waving their arms to signal Hornet. He studied them for a long moment. One wore an officer’s coat. He lifted the glass and found the masts of the American sloop. She was making good speed sailing north. Turning back to the wreck, he examined her. “She’s either Stinger or Jacket,” Donland said aloud. He lowered the glass.

  “Will we assist?” Dewitt asked.

  Donland did not answer; instead, he lifted the glass to his eye and studied the American sloop. He estimated that she would be around the island and tacking to run south by the time Hornet hove-to and launched boats. Before the boats could be retrieved after collecting the shipwrecked men there would be no escaping the American. The captain of the sloop was counting on Donland rescuing the men.

  “We will come about Mister Dewitt,’ Donland said softly. “Those men will have to wait until we have dealt with the American.”

  “Mister Jackson we will come about!” Donland shouted. “Mister Dewitt rudder hard to starboard!”

  “Aye Captain!” Dewitt answered.

  “Starboard tack, Mister Jackson!” Donland shouted.

  “Aye Sir, starboard!”

  “Once about, Mister Dewitt steer south by west, we’ll need distance and sea room to be able to deal with the American should she follow,” Donland said as much to himself as he did Dewitt.

  Hornet’s deck tilted sharply as the rudder went over and the sails swung round.

  “Tacks and sheets!” Jackson’s voice barked. “Belay!” He added moments later to continue to hold the wind in the sails.

  “Mains'l haul!” he ordered. Bowlines and braces were cast off and the yards came round.

  Hornet was turning fast.

  “The sloop is rounding the island,” Dewitt announced. “She’s got every stitch aloft.”

  “Aye, as I expected, he’ll think we intend to reverse course,” Donland said.

  Jackson strode to the quarterdeck and took a glass. Training the telescope on the wreck he announced, “I make the wreck to be Jacket.”

  “Aye, Captain Newland,” Donland acknowledged.

  “What’s in your mind Captain?” Jackson asked.

  Donland's gaze was on the horizon beyond the bow. “We will hold course and see what the American intends. We've escaped his clutches and it now remains to be seen if he intends to make it a sea chase. I think he will not, rather, he will wait for us to rescue those survivors. We will do so in due course, but first, we will seek out Stinger. I’ll not pit our sixes against his nines.”

  Jackson asked, “But what if he does give chase?”

  Donland did not answer straight off; he allowed the question to hang. His words came from deep thought, “We’ve wind and distance, he may try but he will be forced to give it up in time. When he does, we’ll tack and come round and give him a wide berth. Once we beat back to the Florida Straits, we’ll begin our search for Stinger. As to those shipwrecked, I doubt they will be none the worst for wear by the time we reach them.”

  Jackson heaved a weary sigh. “Aye, and they have to know we will be back, poor buggers will just have to wait.”

  Chapter Three

  Dawn brought a shivering cold rain. Hornet sighted Key West and tacked east.

  “Two men aloft Mister Jackson, fresh eyes every two hours,” Donland said as he set his mug of steaming coffee on the table.

  “Aye, Captain and I pray we find war
mer air. This cold has chilled me to the bone, I’m as cold as a frog in a bog,” Jackson said.

  “Age Mister Jackson, the sea makes old men of young men,” Donland said in jest.

  Jackson countered, “Aye, but easily remedied lying next to a young lass.”

  Donland smiled and said, “Aye, and you would know.”

  Jackson stood and pulled his hat from the sideboard. There was no humor in his voice when he spoke. “I’d not be the only one with the knowing, you’ve that pretty Betty waiting. I would venture she’s in Savannah or Charleston looking out to sea in hopes of a glimpse of Hornet returning.”

  Donland spoke his mind; he could to Jackson. “I’d not know. She is a woman with a mind of her own and there are those who would turn her head to win her heart. It is a fear that plagues me and weighs heavy on me. Every parting from her rends my heart.”

  “I’ve reason to believe you’ve nothing to fear on that quarter but such is a sailorman’s life,” Jackson said and added. “We be wedded to ship and sea, to be on land is a burden but to be at sea is to be free.”

  The conversation was interrupted by the lookout’s call, “Deck there! Sail to larboard!”

  Donland stood and jammed on his hat. “We best be about the task,” he said.

  Ashcroft handed the powerful telescope to Donland. “Yonder Captain, just on the horizon,” Ashcroft said and pointed.

  Donland put the glass to his eye and began to scan the horizon. “Still too distance, can’t make her out,” he said and lowered the glass.

  “She’s sailing away from us toward Bermuda. Could be Stinger, the American or some other vessel. We’ll not know until we close the distance,” he said while considering whether to tack or maintain course. The sky was clear except for a few high thin wisps of clouds. He reasoned the wind would strengthen as the sun climbed higher.

  “We’ve more wind if we tack,” Jackson advised.

  “Aye,” Donland replied.

  He lifted the glass again; the sail was only a dot. Hornet was sailing as close to the wind as possible at less than two knots. Continuing on the present tack would avail them nothing.

  “Tack nor’ by east, Mister Jackson,” Donland ordered and placed the telescope back into the rack.