On reaching the deck I saw at once how matters stood. The Russian had allowed us to come alongside, and then, throwing out grappling-irons, had fired a broadside into us, and attempted to board. They were soon overcome, however, by the pirates, and driven back into their ship, whither they were immediately followed.
I resolved, come what might, that I would take no part in the fray; but I was carried, in spite of myself, on board the strange vessel in the rush that our men made when they drove their opponents back. There was a short, sharp skirmish on the deck of the Russian, and then the crew were driven below, and the hatches put on. I remembered having seen a number of soldiers on board when we first came up with this vessel. There were none now. Their mysterious disappearance struck me at first, but I soon forgot it in the thrilling scenes that followed.
In the middle of the vessel’s main-deck there was a cage of wild beasts. How they had got there of course I knew not, but I at once concluded the ship must have been in southern climes, and these animals were being brought home to be presented to some menagerie or zoological garden. There were several fine specimens of lions and tigers, and the sight of blood which flowed plentifully on the decks had so excited these creatures that they were now filling the air with deafening roars, bounding against the sides of their cage, (which I expected every moment to see broken to pieces by their united strength), and glaring at us with the most awful expressions of ferocity I ever beheld.
Our captain, who looked almost as fierce as the wild brutes, could not make his voice heard for their roaring. In savage fury he rushed at the cage and made a desperate cut with his sword at the lion nearest the bars. The blood flowed from the wound freely, and the savage animal, being unable to wreak its vengeance on its cowardly assailant, attacked one of its comrades. This, and the blood now flowing in the cage, quite maddened them all. An indiscriminate fight ensued. The wooden partition that separated the tigers from the lions was smashed in, and the strong cage shook as if it were made of card-board.
“Turn a gun in-board,” yelled the captain, who seemed to have actually gone mad with passion.
The order was instantly obeyed.
“Load to the muzzle—grape—canister—chain shot. In with it.”
He assisted in the operation; rammed home the extraordinary charge, pointed the gun at the cage, and applied the match. Instantly the gun leaped backwards as if it had been a living thing, broke down the bulwarks of the ship, and plunged overboard.
The effect of the shot was terrific. The cage was blown to atoms, and the mangled remains of the wild beasts were strewn about the deck. One animal, however, a magnificent Bengal tiger, had apparently escaped unhurt. It sprang at the captain with a hideous roar. He pointed a pistol at its open throat!
At that moment the woodcut in my book of travels flashed vividly before me. But I had not time to think. The pistol exploded, sending its contents down the creature’s throat. The tiger fell short in its leap; blood poured from its mouth and nose. With another bound it cleared the bulwarks, and fell into the sea.
The calm that succeeded this thrilling incident was like a sudden lull in the midst of a furious storm. Even the pirates seemed to be solemnised by what had passed.
“Now to work,” cried the captain, wiping his sword, and laying it, with a brace of loaded pistols, on the capstan. “What are you staring at, you fools?—have you lost your senses? Open the after-hatch, and bring them up, one at a time. Get the plank ready.”
The first who was led bound before the captain was the steward of the ship. He was deadly pale, and trembled very much.
“Now, my man,” said the captain, “answer my questions. The truth mind, else—” he touched the butt of a pistol significantly.
“Where did you last sail from?”
To my amazement, the man gave the name of the port from which we ourselves had sailed. I felt certain that this was a falsehood, and that the poor man’s life would be forfeited. Judge, then, my surprise when the captain said—
“I know that as well as you. I saw you sneak out just the day before we did. But you didn’t escape me, ha! ha! You are too good to live, my man. Stand aside here till I call someone who’s not quite so frightened. Here, hold him, one of you! Bring another!”
I started. My heart almost ceased to beat when the next man was led forward. He was my father’s man-servant, Edwards. In the confusion and horror of that hour I could not reason; but a vague sense of some mysterious impossibility having actually taken place oppressed me in a way that I cannot explain. The ship had sailed the day before ours did! I left Edwards behind me in the race from home! How, then, did I see him before me? Then the cage of wild beasts. How was it possible that a vessel leaving an English port could have such creatures on board? Then, my father’s letter; it seemed more than ever mysterious how that letter could reach me, and ............