"Stop firing!" commanded Captain Avery, less than a quarter of an hour later. "That black flag feller is careenin'! She's fillin'! I declare, she must ha' been a mere sh.e.l.l. The _Noank's_ timbers'd ha'

stood a heavier poundin' than that."

"It was pretty heavy pounding, Lyme," replied Sam Prentice. "Our timbers are good, but we don't care to be struck at short range. Not by heavy shot, anyhow. You see, that redskin jest plugged her every time. Some of his. .h.i.ts must ha' gone clean through."

"Used her up, anyhow," said the captain.

"Guert," said Up-na-tan to his pupil in the science of gunnery, "good!

Boy aim twice. No miss. Boy make good gunner some day."

It was just so. The Manhattan had indulgently promised Guert to do some actual battle practice, and had made him as proud as a peac.o.c.k.

It was true that he had fired under close supervision and direction, but it had been a valuable teaching, and Guert almost believed that he could have done it all alone--with the right kind of men to handle the pivot-gun for him.

"Boy good eye," said Up-na-tan. "Hold hand steady. Hit mark. Ugh!"

Over, over, over, rapidly leaned the shattered hull of the _Leon_, the water pouring into her through the gaps in her starboard side. Down from her had dropped boat after boat, to be crowded with her surviving wolves, no effort being made by them to save any of their wounded companions. She had now drifted into pretty close neighborhood with the _Santa Teresa_, and a wild shout went up as the boats pulled away.

"Board the Spaniard!" cried her captain.

It was the last resource of utter desperation, and they might even now have succeeded in gaining possession of the _Santa Teresa_ if she had been una.s.sisted.

"Stand by your guns, men!" shouted Captain Velasquez. "Let them have it as they come!"

"Steady about," said Captain Avery to the steersman of the _Noank_, "we must take care o' those boats. Oh! how I wish we were nearer! Give it to 'em!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" came back from his gunners, "but the Spaniard's in the way. As soon as we clear her--"

"Down with the mainsail! Haul on that jib! Port! Here we come!"

It was not round shot this time. The long sixes had been glutted with grape-shot, and so had the pivot-gun. The Spanish cannon, hastily fired by excited men, had done some execution, but not one of the buccaneer boats had been disabled. The foremost of them was within ten fathoms of the _Santa Teresa_, and the swarm of murderers would have been over her bulwarks in another minute, when past her port quarter swept the Yankee privateer.

Bang, bang, bang, as fast as they were brought to bear, spoke out her three guns of that broadside, and Up-na-tan's eighteen-pounder. Then she seemed to come about like a top, somewhat increasing her distance.

Three more successive reports, and then where were the picaroons?

Muskets and pistols were hurling lead among them from the deck of the Spanish trader. A shot from one of her guns had knocked out the stern of the largest boat. All that, however, had been of small account compared to the effect of that tempest of grapeshot. The boat crews withered away before it, and two of the boats themselves were upset in the panic that followed, while the fourth was evidently sinking. Black heads dotted the water, and a shriek from one of them brought a sharp, quick exclamation from Coco.

"Shark! Shark!" he yelled. "See back fin! Twenty of 'em! See 'em!

Shark take 'em all!"

"Father," exclaimed Vine Avery, "that's awful! Can't we save some of them?"

"Too late!" said the captain. "Not a man, I'm afraid. Jest look how they're goin' down! It's a reg'lar school o' sharks. They're bitin'

fast. We'll go about, though, and we'll pick up any that are left."

The Spaniards continued firing while their American friends sped on and came back on the other tack. Every boat had now been upset or shattered and the sharks were having their own way with the picaroons.

"Here comes one of 'em, Captain Avery," said Guert. "I'll try and save him!"

"Throw him a rope," said the captain; and Guert quickly had the help of Vine and another sailor.

"Quick!" said Guert. "Don't let the sharks get him. I'd give anything to save a man from them!"

"He's caught the rope," replied Vine. "Haul him in! We've got him."

Close behind him, or rather under him, as he came dripping over the rail, was a huge pair of snapping jaws that barely missed him. He fell, at first, and then his rescuers themselves were astonished. He did not say a word to them, but dropped at once upon his knees, and began to pour out thanks to the Virgin Mary, like a good Catholic.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A NARROW ESCAPE. "As he came over the rail, a huge pair of jaws barely missed him.]

"Let him," said Sam Prentice. "Some o' these cutthroats are awful pious."

"Yes," said Guert, "but he is praying in Dutch, and he mixes it up with English. I can't tell what he is."

"There she goes!" shouted a dozen voices at that moment, and all turned to look.

It was only a last lurch and a plunge, and all that was left of the pirate _Leon_ sank forever out of sight. The heads of her crew had also disappeared from the surface of the water, and the career of one of the terrors of the sea was ended.

CHAPTER X.

THE BLACK TRANSPORT.

"You don't mean to say it's all over!" exclaimed Guert, staring at the place from which the pirate schooner had vanished. "Seems to me it doesn't take long to fight a battle at sea."

"Yes, it does," said one of the older sailors, "if there's chasin' and manoeuvrin' and long range firin'. I've been in some that took all day and the next day, too. But we were too heavy guns for that feller."

"It's awful!" remarked Vine Avery, very thoughtfully. "I was trying to make out if we could have saved any more of 'em."

"No," said the captain, "I don't see how we could, considerin' where we were and the time it took us to come about. They grappled each other in the water, too."

"The fact is, boys," said Sam Prentice, "the savin' o' those fellers wouldn't ha' been of any use, anyhow. Spanish law isn't as slow and careful as ours is. It wouldn't ha' called for any trial by a court, you know. The nearest army or navy commander of any consequence would ha' taken hold of 'em. They'd all ha' been shot within a day after he seized 'em."

"Leastwise," said Vine, "'twasn't any fault of ours. I'm glad Guert made out to haul in one of 'em."

Guert had turned somewhat quickly away, while they were speaking, for his rescued man had been allowed to come and speak with him.

"Hullo!" said the captain. "They are talkin' Dutch. That's it!

Guert's a New Yorker. He learned it at home."

"What sort is he, Guert?" asked the mate.

"He isn't any pirate, at all," eagerly responded Guert. "He's a Hollander that was on a ship they took. One of 'em knew him and saved him, and they 'pressed him in. He had to make believe he was one of 'em, but he never was."

"Pretty good story," said Captain Avery. "Maybe it's true. There's enough of 'em killed. We'll take care of him."

"I wish you would," said Guert. "Seems to me the right man got away."

"Not all of 'em," said the man himself in English that had very little foreign accent. "There were three more a good deal like me. Some o'

the black men weren't reg'lar pirates. All the rest of 'em, though, belonged to the sharks. It was one o' the worst crews that ever floated. My name's Groot. I'm from Amsterdam, but I was brought up mostly in Liverpool. Sailed on British craft and French, too. I'm a true man, Captain Avery!"