Part 48

Three sailors seized him and bore him aloft, where he remonstrated with his men in the strongest language possible. In spite of this, many clustered about one of the boats.

"The ship's a-sinking," cried one. "She won't stand up for an hour."

As he spoke, the welcome sound of, "Sail ho!" arose, above the wash and roar of the angry water.

Sure enough, a ship was bearing down upon them, but, to the dismay of all, she hastily hauled off again.

Captain Walker was astonished. "She thinks us an armed enemy," said he. "Fire a gun, men, and cut the mizzen-mast in two, so that it falls overboard. That will show the stranger that we're a friend in distress."

His orders were immediately obeyed and the mast came ripping and tearing over the side. A gun also roared, and the stranger, now convinced that the ship was a friend, and not a foe, came bearing down upon the crippled Duke William, to the rescue.

"She's one of our own convoy!" shouted a seaman, waving his hand joyfully. And such she proved to be. Captain Walker had saved his crew by his foresight and quickness of decision. Had he thrown all of his cannon overboard he would have had no gun with which to hail the stranger, and, had he not cut away his own mast, she would have gone away, fearful that he was an enemy. Three cheers for the brave and thoughtful Captain Walker! He reached England, at last, but he and his men were in a sorry plight, for the vessel which had rescued them was almost as unseaworthy as their own, which sank in a great whirl of eddying foam, not half an hour after they had left her. Thus ended the career of the good ship which had chased all of the pirates away from the harbor of Charleston. A sad fate, indeed, for such a gallant craft.

Captain Walker was not long idle, for he soon took charge of a brigantine trading to the Baltic Sea, in spite of the fact that war had been declared with France, and the privateers and gun-boats of that nation hovered in his path, eager and anxious to secure some English merchant vessel, as a prize.

"I see that these fellows mean to catch me, if they can," said the keen-witted mariner. "So I intend to be ready for them if I do not happen to be near an English man-of-warsman when they come sailing by."

He therefore shipped a number of wooden guns, which were painted black, so that, at a distance, they looked exactly like the real thing. Upon his vessel were only six cannon, so when--a short time afterwards--he was chased by a French privateer off the coast of Scotland--he had an excellent opportunity to "bluff" the bold marauder.

As the Frenchman drew near, the vessel which Captain Walker was on kept steadily upon her way, and, through his glass, the cautious mariner saw that his pursuer carried fully twenty guns.

"Run out our dummy cannon!" he ordered.

Out were thrust the black, wooden muzzles, twenty-five in number, and--as the Frenchman was now within shooting distance--the English boat was luffed into the wind. In a second the British jack, ensign, and man-of-war's pendant were hoisted, and a gun was fired across the bow of the arrogant privateer.

"Come on!" shouted bold Walker. "I am waiting for you!"

But the enemy did not come on. Instead of this, she turned tail in a hurry, filled away, and made off as fast as a freshening breeze would drive her.

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the genial, English skipper. "Bluffed by a lot of wooden guns. Ha! Ha! Ha!"

And all of his sailors gave a rousing cheer.

This was indeed good fortune, but Captain Walker was soon to meet with some fortune which was quite the reverse.

It was the year 1744 and the doughty sailor had accepted the command of the privateer Mars, of twenty-six guns and one hundred and thirty men, which sailed from London for a cruise in the English channel. With her was the Boscawen, another privateer with about the same number of guns, but with a crew of fully one hundred and eighty. They soon had an adventure which was not all to the liking of bold George Walker.

At midnight, late in December, the two privateers were running near the coast of France. There was a heavy mist and rain, also a fresh breeze, so the steersmen could not well see what way they were going. Suddenly the hulls of two large vessels loomed up in the blackness, and the twinkling lights from their port-holes shone upon the dripping sides of the British privateers. Voices came through the mist--French voices--so it was apparent that the ships were not friends.

"Those fellows are showing much alarm," said Captain Walker, a few moments later. "I therefore believe that the vessels are full of treasure. We'll hang on until daylight, at any rate, and see whether or no we cannot capture a rich cargo."

Next morning, at eight o'clock, the fog suddenly lifted, disclosing--not two treasure ships--but two French men-of-war; one bearing seventy-four guns, the other sixty-four.

"Egad!" ejaculated the startled Walker. "We're in a hornet's nest! I guess we'd better run for it!"

The Frenchmen, however, were both treasure-ships, as well as men-of-war; both bound from the West Indies, with cargoes worth about four millions sterling ($20,000,000), which they were carrying into the harbor of Brest. They were not in good fighting trim, as their heavy cargoes made them low in the water, and very unwieldy. It is probable that they would not have attacked the two Englishmen, had not the captain of the Boscawen turned tail and fled, leaving the Mars all alone.

"Did you ever see such a coward?" cried Captain Walker, with heat. "Boys! We're in for it now!"

Sure enough, they were: for the Frenchmen saw that only one enemy was left, and immediately sent the sixty-four gun ship--the Fleuron--in pursuit.

Walker turned his vessel about and clapped on all sail, but the large gun-boat quickly overhauled him.

"Gentlemen!" said Captain Walker, as she rapidly approached. "I do not mean to be so rash as to attempt a regular engagement with so superior a force; all I ask of you is to confide in me and my orders, to get away--if possible--without striking our flag; and, be assured, I shall not call upon you to fight unless there is excellent opportunity for success. The ship which pursues us is certainly the better sailer of the two French men-of-war; yet, if we have good fortune with our shots, we may bring down a topmast or yard; or hurt her rigging so as to retard her pursuit. We may yet get entirely clear. So, my hearties, do not lose your nerve!"