Gene Wolfe - Pirate Freedom

That was bad, because they could see us better. But it was good, too, because there were rocks and driftwood we could hide behind, and they were afraid to follow us out into the open. One or two tried, and they were shot the minute they stepped out from behind their trees. I figured the ships would come back, and then it would be over for us.

What really happened was that they hollered for a parlay. They swore they would not hurt anybody we sent to talk to them, but they would not send anybody out to talk to us. There was a lot of jawing back and forth about that because nobody on their side could speak much French and Melind could not speak much Spanish.

That was when I did one of the dumbest things I have ever done in my life. I told him I spoke Spanish better than he did, and I would translate for him. So before long Melind and I left our muskets and knives behind and went up the beach and into the edge of the rain forest to talk to them.

There were two, a Spanish officer and a Spanish farmer. From what I saw, the officer had about ten soldiers and the farmer maybe a hundred other farmers. Once they got us into the trees they grabbed us and searched us for weapons, and of course they found my money belt and kept the money. Melind protested and I yelled my head off, but it did no good. Before long they told us they would kill us both if we did not shut up about it.

That was when I tried to jump them. A farmer standing pretty near me had a big knife in his belt, with the handle sticking out. I grabbed it and went for the Spanish officer. I would have killed them all then and there if I could, and I have never hated anybody in my life the way I hated that guy. That was my money, I had earned it with worry, hard work, and tough decisions, and they had sworn we would be okay if we left our weapons behind and came over.

I got that officer in the side, before somebody hit me. When I was conscious again (and feeling like something scraped off a shoe), my hands were tied behind me, and so were Melind's.

What it came down to was that we had to go-get in our piraguas and go off the island. If we did that, they said, we could leave in peace. If we did not leave, they would hold us where we were until more men came. They had sent for them, they said, and they would be there the next day.

We pretended not to believe them, but we did. I did, and I know Melind did, too. They were too happy about it for it not to be true. (It is pure hell to see somebody you hate happy. I found that out then.) Parties of soldiers and farmers had been searching the island for the past few days, and now that this one had found us the others would join it. They agreed to let us bury our dead and fill our water bottles, then we had to go. I would guess it was about noon the next day when we left, twenty or thirty men in four piraguas, but I was still feeling rocky, and I do not remember a lot about it. We camped that night along the coast, and made Tortuga the next day.

The shantytown was gone. The Spanish had blown it apart with their ships' guns, then landed and burned what was left. A lot of people were left just the same. They had run off into the woods when the Spanish guns opened up. Melind got a bunch together that night and talked to them.

Only first, he talked to me. I told him the truth. It was the first time I had told anybody the truth since I had talked to Capt. Burt in his cabin on the Weald, so maybe that knock on the head had done me some good. I told him I had been a pirate, could navigate, and was a pretty fair sailor.

I do not remember everything Melind said when he made his speech. Besides, it was in French and there were some things I did not understand. As close as I can come, it went about like this.

"My friends, we have been driven to the wall. If we remain here, they will come again and kill us. If we return to Hispaniola, they will hunt us down and butcher us like cattle. Can we return to France in piraguas? You know that we cannot.

"Every man must choose to live or choose to die. I choose to live, and here is how I propose to do it. With a few friends to whom I have already spoken, I shall follow the coast to San Domingo. Not until very late will we enter its harbor in our piraguas. We will show no light and fire no shot, boarding a likely vessel before the cowardly curs know we have come. As silently as any ghost we will sail out of the harbor, and once we are at sea-well, my friends, I pity anyone who tries to prevent us from going wherever we choose.

"Those who want to accompany us must be ready in the morning. Some of you will not want to come, for whatever reason. We wish you well, and ask only that you pledge our success when next you drink. There remains plenty of water on this island."

When we left next morning, there were seven piraguas in all. I would guess each held ten men. It took us a lot longer to get there than I had expected. It might have been two weeks, but I think it was nearer three. Whenever we came to a Spanish settlement, we robbed the people. We had to, or we would have starved. A few fought, and some got killed while they were begging for their lives. We tried to stop it whenever we could, but I could not be everywhere, and neither could Melind.

In one way, all that time was valuable. We got to know each other, and who could do what. When we were so close we knew we would reach the harbor after sundown the next day, Melind divided us into two crews, fighters and sailors. My crew was the sailors, and that was half a dozen men plus me. Melind had the fighters.

They would board whatever ship we picked first and take care of the crew, killing everybody who did not give up. My crew would come after them, leave the fighting to them, and get her under way as quick as we could, cutting the anchor cable and running up sails. I would take the wheel and do my best to pilot her out of a harbor I had never seen, at night.

The whole thing scared the heck out of me-I would say it scared everybody-but that was the part that scared me the most. I knew we had a good chance of grounding on a mud flat or whatever, and we would be dead meat if we did. If the ship had a kedge anchor, we could try to kedge off before the guns in the fort blew us to splinters, and dear, dear Saint Barbara, please pray that the nice gunners get a real good sleep.

Next day off we went, all of us knowing that there was a swell chance we were seeing our last sunrise. I had picked out two men to cut anchor cables, and four men to make sail. I told them to set the mains as quick as they could, and we would worry about the rest afterward.

I have seen plans go right and plans go wrong. That one went crazy. Melind and I had said we would look over the ships in the harbor, and try to take the one that looked easiest. Fine, except that there was only one, unless you counted the little fishing boats.

What was worse, I recognized it the minute I saw it, even by moonlight. It was the little flush-decked three-master, the smallest of the Spanish Navy ships that had come into our bay to tell us we had to go. I do not know whether Melind recognized it, too. He may have. He went for it anyway.

So we followed, seven men in the smallest piragua of the bunch. We had planned to wait until the fighters were on board, but we did not. Melind and his bunch climbed over the rail, there were two or three shots, and up we went.

The two I had assigned to cut the anchor cables both went to the bow cable and cut it. I had to cut the stern cable with my dagger, which meant I had to stop cutting and fight twice before I got it cut through. My dagger was sharp, heck yes. Try cutting a thick, tarred rope with a good sharp knife and tell me how it goes.

The worst part was that there was not enough wind just then to bother a candle. My boys set the foresail and the spanker, but there was no wind to fill them.