Donalblane of Darien

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.

CHAPTER VII

THE FOUNDING OF THE CITY OF DARIEN

Whether the buccaneers went off for reinforcements, or simply withdrew sadder and wiser, if not better, men, cannot be said. They certainly disappeared before sunset, and no more was ever seen of them. For once at least the blood-stained Brethren of the Coast had met more than their match, and been foiled in their villainous work.

Having repaired the damage done to the spars and rigging, the Bonnie Scotland continued her course, and on the first day of November came in sight of the long-desired Golden Island – the goal of their hopes, the end of their weary voyage.

Wonderfully refreshing was the sight to the delighted eyes of the expedition, sick of the monotonous sea. Clothed with rich green sward, from which rose lofty trees laden with fruit, and surrounded by still waters of crystalline purity, this island stood forth like a beautiful specimen of the vast regions beyond, which it was hoped were some day to become a province of Scotland.

Donalblane's freckled face glowed with joy. "Eh, but it's bonnie – it's verra bonnie!" he exclaimed, grasping Mr. Sutherland's arm. "There's naethin' like that in Scotland."

"No, indeed, Donald," responded Mr. Sutherland, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. "It's very different from Scotland, and far more beautiful; and if its fulfilment only equals its promise we shall have done well to come here."

By a clever bit of strategy Donalblane managed to get into the first boat that left the ship, and, curled up in the bow, waited until they touched ground, when he sprang out, recking naught of wet feet so long as he was really the first one of the expedition to set foot on the New World.

"Hurrah!" he shouted, waving his cap as he raced up the beach. "Come along and see the land!"

There were plenty to follow his example, and before long the little island which lay at the mouth of the Golden River had been pretty well explored.