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CHAPTER V
ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

Running as one runs whose life is at stake, Donalblane looked hither and thither for some break in the cliffs that would give him a chance to climb out of his fell pursuers' reach. At last, with a thrill of joy, his eye perceived one, and, summoning all his energies for a supreme effort, he darted thither.

The ravening swine were gaining upon him at a rate which meant his soon being overtaken, and if he should stumble his fate was certain.

But the sure-footed faculty of the Highlander stood him in good stead. He neither slipped nor tripped, and kept steadily on, until well-nigh spent he won his race for life by so scanty a margin that the baffled boar drove hard against the friendly rock up which his intended victim had sprung to safety.

It was little more than a ledge which afforded Donalblane such timely sanctuary, and it did not lead far; but, about twenty feet from the ground, he found a sort of niche wherein he could dispose his exhausted body with some degree of comfort.

"Eh, man, but I'm well-nigh dead!" he panted, as he stretched out on the moss-covered rock. "Anither ten yards and he'd have had his tusks into me. Ah, weel, he'll no' get anither chance, though I stay here a' nicht!"

As the boar was grunting and gnashing, and his squealing family were evidently determined to invest the place, Donalblane proceeded to settle down as comfortably as he could.

Happily the moss lay thick on the rock, and really made quite a soft couch. It was a fine, warm night, and if he had only had food and drink he would not have greatly minded. But the pangs of hunger, and especially of thirst, took possession of him, and he had a wretched time of it as the long hours dragged slowly by. Some time during the night the pigs disappeared, and when day dawned the coast was clear.

Feeling very stiff and sore and out of sorts, Donalblane clambered down into the valley, and set off to find his ship. By a lucky chance, after a couple of hours' vain wandering, he came upon a couple of natives laden with oranges evidently intended for market.

They, of course, could not understand his words, but by vigorous pantomime he got into their heads the two facts, that he wanted some of their oranges, and to be shown the way to the harbour.

For a bit of silver they filled his hands with the fruit, which the starving boy found very refreshing if not quite satisfying; and then, by keeping them company, he came in due time to where the welcome sight of the Bonnie Scotland gladdened his eyes. On his return to the ship he found his friends in great concern about him, and Mr. Sutherland actually organising a party to go in search of him.

They were considerably amused at his story, and thereafter he had to endure many a joke in regard to his supposed fondness for pork.

Leaving the lovely islands with good stores of fruit, fresh provisions, and water, the Bonnie Scotland pursued her way westward through storm and {50} calm until the drawing near of the New World was announced by tropical things that came out to meet her on the bosom of the deep.

Thenceforward every eye scanned eagerly the horizon, and Donalblane spent most of his time high up the mainmast, it being his ambition to be the first among the passengers to sight the land. Mr. Paterson, whose kindly interest in the boy had increased during the voyage, promised him a golden guinea if he did sight land first, and this of course intensified his desire.

His patience was sorely tried, for when the ship reached the dreaded Sargasso Sea her onward progress was checked for many a weary day by the provoking seaweed which held her fast.

"I'm afraid you'll not soon win your guinea, Donald," said Mr. Sutherland, after they had been apparently motionless for several days. "We're bound to stay where we are until a strong wind is good enough to spring up and help us out."

But the wind seemed in no hurry to come, and the gulf-weed kept them prisoners until at last something in the nature of a hurricane struck the Bonnie Scotland, and she scudded helplessly before it under bare poles for a whole day, her passengers' impatience to sight land being for the time replaced by a lively fear of foundering.

In spite of being so poor a craft, however, the Bonnie Scotland braved out the peril, and the following morning Donalblane, who had taken to the mast as soon as he had swallowed his breakfast, made the hearts of all on deck thrill with joy by the cry of —

"The land! the land! I can see it! Look! Look!"

An instant later the look-out at the bow confirmed him by shouting —

"Land ho! on the weather bow!" and the ship-wearied folk forgot for the moment their mutual animosities which had abounded during the long voyage, and rejoiced together that the end of their trials was at hand.

"Here's your guinea, my lad," said Mr. Paterson, as he handed Donalblane a bright new coin. "You've earned it well, and I hope that good fortune may always befall you."

As Donalblane thanked his kind friend he vowed to himself that that beautiful gold piece should not be hastily spent, but that he would keep it as long as possible in memory of the giver, and the reason for the gift.

It was one of the West India Islands they were approaching, and as they passed within half-a-league its wealth of tropical vegetation presented so pleasing a picture that the passengers besought the captain to make a landing in one of the tempting coves, so that they might have a run on shore, and probably get some fruit. But he was a surly fellow, and refused the request with an oath, saying that he was sick of the whole lot of them, and wanted to be rid of them with as little delay as possible.

So the Bonnie Scotland kept on her course, leaving the lovely islands astern, and out of sight as she passed into the wide expanse of the Caribbean Sea.

Coarse and brutal as he was, her captain understood navigation, and knew how to get the best out of the old hulk of which he had command. Now, as the end of the voyage drew near, and the seas seemed kind, he cracked on all the sail the ship would carry, greatly to the delight of Donalblane, who loved to have the vessel plunging along at full speed.

More than half the breadth of the sea had been traversed when the look-out one morning shouted —

"Sail ho! Sail ho!"

"Where away?" roared the captain from the poop.

"Right abeam, and coming towards us," was the response after a moment's hesitation.

At once there was much excitement on board. The members of the expedition took it for granted that this was one of the other ships from which they had long parted company, and began to speculate which one it was, and whether it would overtake them.

"I was hoping ours would be the first vessel to reach Darien," said Mr. Sutherland to Donalblane. "It would be something to boast of considering what a poor thing she is. I wonder which one of the others this is?"

"Ye canna tell so far away," responded Donalblane. "Maybe it winna catch us. We're sailing fine now."

The Bonnie Scotland certainly was doing wonders, but in spite of every inch of canvas her sticks could carry being spread, the other ship gained steadily, and the captain's grim countenance grew darker and darker.

Mr. Paterson's fine features also became perturbed, although he kept his own counsel, and those who noticed supposed he was simply anxious that the Bonnie Scotland should win the race to Darien.

As the afternoon advanced the pursuing vessel, which seemed to be sailing two knots to the other's one, came fully into view, and everybody on board saw that it not only was not one of the five which had set out from Leith, but that it bore a strange look which somehow seemed to bode no good.

They were not long left in uncertainty. "Yon's one of they buccaneers," growled the captain; "and if ye're going to fight him off ye'd better be gettin' ready."

At once the ship was filled with alarm and confusion, women weeping, children wailing, men threatening. The very name of buccaneer sent a chill of terror to every heart, and if the blood-stained butchers of the sea had ranged alongside at that moment, the Bonnie Scotland would have proved an easy prey. But there was one man on board equal to the emergency. William Paterson had been shamefully treated by his associates, his advice flouted, his authority denied, his confidence betrayed. Now he rose superior to them all. He alone was calm amid the pitiful panic, and the first to respond to his call for concerted action were Mr. Sutherland and Donalblane.

"We must resist to the death," were his earnest words, steadily spoken. "There can be no question of surrender. The buccaneers do not know the meaning of mercy."

CHAPTER VI
A BRUSH WITH BUCCANEERS

There was no lack of arms on board the Bonnie Scotland, but they were curiously assorted, and by no means all of the best quality. Muskets and pistols, claymores and short swords, battle-axes and boarding-pikes, they were all hurriedly got out on deck, and each man chose the weapon he thought he could handle to the best advantage.

Donalblane, whose Highland spirit rather rejoiced at the prospect of a fight, snatched up a sword, which he hung at his belt in addition to his own pair of pistols.

"Can we beat the buccaneers, do you think?" he asked, looking up eagerly into the grave face of Mr. Sutherland, whose one thought was for his wife and child.

Mr. Sutherland glanced over the confused crowd of agitated men, many of whom were evidently in a state of unmanly terror, and there was an undertone of contempt in his voice as he replied —

"We ought to, if we keep our heads. There are certainly enough of us."

Counting her crew the ship carried three hundred men, and if these stood to their weapons they should prove a match for the enemy, whose numbers would probably not exceed one hundred. But the utter lack of discipline or order amongst the expedition filled both Mr. Paterson and Mr. Sutherland with fears as to the result.

In addition to small-arms, the Bonnie Scotland carried eight carronades which had been neglected during the voyage, but were now hastily got in order and double-shotted under the direction of Mr. Paterson, who seemed to know how everything should be done.

Meanwhile the buccaneer was steadily coming on, and evidently manoeuvring to approach astern so as to prevent the Bonnie Scotland using her broadside.

But the veteran captain saw through the trick, and at once changed his vessel's course, saying with a sardonic smile —

"Red Angus is no sae simple as ye think. He kens your wicked wile, and just how to fool ye."

Mr. Paterson, disgusted as he had been by the brutality of the captain during the voyage, could not help now admiring the consummate skill with which he handled his clumsy craft, for the Bonnie Scotland was far from being what she ought to have been.

He seemed to be able to divine every movement of the buccaneer, and to meet it by a counter-movement which prevented the latter obtaining the advantage sought. Thus the two vessels dodged about among the white-caps, for a strong breeze was blowing, until at last the buccaneer apparently gave up all strategy, and bore directly down upon the Bonnie Scotland at the risk of a broadside.

"Now then, gunners, be ready to fire when I give you the word," was Mr. Paterson's command, and, matches in hand, the men he had selected for the duty stood beside the carronades, waiting his word. He did not speak until the buccaneer was not more than a hundred yards distant, and then the captain, by a sudden turn of his wheel, throwing the Bonnie Scotland around so that she presented her beam to the advancing vessel, Mr. Paterson shouted —

"All together! Fire!"

The three carronades roared as one, and their iron missiles went hurtling into the rigging of the buccaneer and along her crowded decks, bringing a lot of the rigging down by the run, injuring the foremast so that it showed signs of tottering, and killing and wounding a number of the scoundrels, who were evidently not expecting so heavy a broadside. Certainly the immediate effect of the discharge was most encouraging, and Donalblane clapped his hands gleefully as the damaged vessel fell off, while the Bonnie Scotland kept on her course.

"They got it then, didn't they?" he exclaimed. "That'll teach them to leave honest folk alone, eh?" and he waved his sword exultantly towards the enemy.

"It is wise not to hurrah until you are out of the wood, my boy," said Mr. Paterson, who just then chanced to be passing. "That is only first blood for us. The buccaneers will soon return to the attack, and then may Heaven defend us!"

If the Bonnie Scotland had been anything but the slow-going tub she was she might have made her escape while the buccaneer was repairing damages. But it was not in her to do this, and she wallowed cumbrously in the waves until the enemy once more ranged close.

Although her sides were pierced for many guns whose black muzzles were thrust threateningly out, the buccaneer, for some reason, reserved her fire. Perhaps, having no doubt as to the issue of the struggle, her commander wished to save the other vessel as far as possible uninjured.

Approaching more warily this time, he so managed as to come up astern of the Bonnie Scotland, and, in spite of the latter's efforts to avoid the onset, bore down upon her, the two ships colliding with a grinding crash and the rattle of interlocking spars.

The sight of the buccaneers as they crowded the bulwarks, ready to spring on board their prey, was certainly enough to affright the stoutest heart. Every countenance seemed that of an incarnate fiend, rendered more hideous by the blood-red handkerchief which was their only head-covering. They were seething with rage at the loss they had already suffered, and shook their cutlasses fiercely, while they shouted like madmen.

Donalblane's eagerness for a fight was decidedly chilled by the appalling appearance of these assailants, but he did not lose control of himself, and when Mr. Paterson gave the command, fired his pistols one after the other into the yelling horde of scoundrels. With what effect he never knew, for the next instant all was the wildest confusion, the men of the Bonnie Scotland opposing the buccaneers with boarding-pike, battle-axe, sword, and claymore, and beating them back again and again with much shedding of blood on both sides.

Whatever other virtues they lacked, these adventurers were certainly not deficient in brawn or bravery. They stood their ground splendidly, and Donalblane's heart thrilled with pride as he saw that the buccaneers were gaining no advantage. He himself was no idle spectator. Throwing aside his pistols he seized a big boarding-pike, and taking his place near Mr. Paterson, made it his business to be ready to protect him so far as might be in his power. Nor did he fail of an opportunity. In spite of the determined defence, a few of the buccaneers forced their way on board, and one of them, a powerful fellow, with the face of a tiger, made a rush upon Mr. Paterson, whom he no doubt recognised as the person in command. At the moment Mr. Paterson was looking in another direction, and the ruffian's cutlass would infallibly have cloven his head had not Donalblane perceived the peril in time to swing his boarding-pike across the buccaneer's shins, bringing him headlong to the slippery deck, where Donalblane followed him with another crack, this time on the skull, that rendered him senseless and harmless for the time being.

Mr. Paterson knew nothing of his danger until the miscreant fell clattering at his feet, and then he realised how narrow had been his escape.

"God bless you, my boy!" he exclaimed fervently, throwing his arm about Donalblane's neck. "I owe you my life. I shall never forget the service you have done me."

Donalblane's face flushed with delight. He felt proud of himself and proud of his patron. He would rather have saved his life than that of any one else on board.

"I'm verra, verra glad, sir," he replied. "Losh! but he was a fearsome creature. He thought fine he wad cut ye in two."

"Well, you have done for him, Donald. May we all do as well. Thank Heaven we're still keeping the rascals off our decks!" and so saying Mr. Paterson rushed into the thick of the fight again.

The stubborn, sturdy defence of the Scotsmen began to tell. Only a few of their assailants had broken through their ranks, and these were speedily put hors de combat. The buccaneers, who had judged from the appearance of the Bonnie Scotland that she would prove an easy prey, were amazed by the number of men on board, and the fierceness with which they fought. As one after another of their crew was killed or wounded, their fury slackened, and when after half-an-hour's hand-to-hand struggle they had gained no advantage, they were fain to sheer off to reconsider the situation.

Hearty cheers rose from the Bonnie Scotland as the buccaneer ship sullenly slid astern. Donalblane, who had been so lucky as to escape all injury, springing into the rigging, and waving one of the buccaneer's blood-red kerchiefs as he shouted jeeringly —

"Noo then, ye murdering villains, have ye got your fill? Ye'll ken better than to be attacking honest folk like us again."

A hearty laugh from below showed that the boy's taunts expressed the feelings of his shipmates; but when the next instant a bullet whistled perilously near his head, he realised how he was exposing himself, and slid down the rigging much faster than he had climbed up. Considering the heat of the conflict it was remarkable how slightly the defenders of the Bonnie Scotland had suffered. Three killed, and a dozen wounded, none of them mortally, made up the list of casualties, and when these had been given proper attention, and the decks cleaned and cleared up, the ministers, of whom there were several on board, called upon all to join with them in giving thanks to Providence for their deliverance.

And so, with the baffled buccaneers still in sight, they sang triumphant Psalms, and lifted up fervent praise to Almighty God who had given them the victory. The women and children, who had been shut in the cabins during the fight, came out to join in this service of praise, their pallid faces showing how they had suffered from fear and anxiety while thus cooped up.