"What shall we do?" sung out old Pumpbolt from forward.
Trusting to the great strength of the Midge, Lanyard shouted,--"Plump us right aboard of him, if you can't do better; but creep under his stern, if you can. So starboard, Brail--starboard--steady--that will do."
"Steady," I replied; but he would not give us the opportunity, for as he saw us booming along, apparently aiming at him right amidships, as if we had thought we could have sawn him in two, the youth bore up, and stood right for the bar.
"So, so," quoth Davie Doublepipe--"we are away on a party of pleasure together, I perceive, señor?"
We carried on, but the Don, from superior sailing, kept well on our bow; and we were now, as we could judge from the increasing roar of the breakers, rapidly approaching the river's mouth.
At this time we had a distinct view, not only of our formidable antagonist, a large topsail schooner, and apparently full of men, but of the bar which we were about to pass, in such uncomfortable fellowship.
The canal of deep water that our steady and most excellent master aimed at, was about fifty yards wide. In it there was depth enough to allow the swell from without to roll in, clear and unbroken, had it not been met by the downward current of the river, aided, as in the present case, by the land-breeze, which made it break in short foam-crested waves.
We carried on. All firing for the moment was out of our craniums on either side.
"Do you see your marks now, Mr Brail--there in the clear?" cried the master.
"Yes; I have the two trees on with the hummock--we are running straight as an arrow for the channel."
On the right hand and on the left the swell was by this time breaking in thunder, flashing up in snowflakes, and sending up a misty drizzle into the cold moonlight sky; but the channel right a-head was still comparatively quiet.
The schooner made an attempt to luff across our bows.
"Aim at him again," sung out old Bloody Politeful. "Aim at him again, Lanyard; to heave-to here is impossible."
"Boarders, stand by," cried Lanyard; but he once more, as we approached him, kept away.
We were now actually on the bar. The noise was astounding--deafening. The sea foamed and raged, and flew up in mist, and boiled in over our decks on either hand, as if we had been borne away in some phantom ship, that floated on white foam instead of water; while, in the very channel we were running through, the heave of the sea from without was met by the rush of the stream downwards, and flashed up in numberless jets of sparkling water, which danced about in the moonlight, and curled, and hissed, and vanished, as if they had been white-shrouded, unreal midnight spectres. We ran on, the strange sail on our lee-beam.