The Confederate officer was evidently of French descent; at any rate, he was very polite. He expressed his obligations to the supposed physician for the service he had rendered in very earnest terms. Mr. Pennant1 had been able to see that there were no guns in the casemates of the fort, and this was really all he wanted to know.
"Yes, sir; most of the guns have been removed to points where they can be used to greater advantage than here. The few we have are twenty-four pounders, mounted en barbette," replied Lieutenant3 Fourchon. "The fort is practically abandoned; and in a short time will be entirely4 so, for the enemy's ships of war can do no harm here, and there is not water enough above to permit their passage into the Mississippi."
"The shoal water is the best protection for the small steamers that ply7 on these inside waters; and the Yankee gunboats can take all others as they come out. The entrance to the bay has not been regularly blockaded, for there has been little occasion to do so thus far."
Mr. Pennant had learned all he wanted to know, and from the parade he could see even in the darkness that only four guns were mounted on the works. He began to feel in a hurry to carry out the remainder of the programme assigned to him. He took the hand of the Confederate officer when he reached the point where Uncle Job was waiting for him, bade him good-morning, and left the fort.
"How's de sick man, Massa Gumboat?" asked the old negro, chuckling8 as though he appreciated the stroke of strategy made by his companion.
"He is better; in fact, he was about well when I left him," replied the practitioner9. "But I have no more time to waste," added he, as he quickened his pace, moving in the direction of the shore.
336 The day was beginning to break in the east, and he was afraid the commander of the Bronx would become uneasy in regard to him. The quarters of the soldiers were passed, though they were not in use, and the shore reached. The lieutenant thanked the guide for the service he had rendered, and told him he could go back to his cabin, and finish his night's sleep.
"No, sar; see you frou, Massa Gumboat," replied Job.
"Do you wish to leave this place, Uncle Job?" asked the officer.
"No, sar; I want to be free, but I'm not gwine away, I want to see de gumboat."
"You shall see it, and go on board of it if you wish; but we may have a battle with the fort."
"Don't care for de fight, sar; Job isn't 'feered o' noffin'."
It was less than halt a mile to the cutter, and they soon reached it. The Russian was standing10 on the shore, and most of the men were asleep on the thwarts11, though Vincent was wide awake. Mike recognized the form of the old negro, and reported that the lieutenant was coming.
"Now burn your roman candle, and let us get 337 off as soon as possible," said Mr. Pennant. "Bowman, help this man to a seat in the stern sheets;" and he assisted Uncle Job to get in himself.
The men passed him along over the thwarts, and seated him in the stern. Vincent burned the red candle himself, and it cast a fiery12 glare over the scene, which must have astonished the occupants of the fort if they saw it. As soon as it had burned out, the quartermaster leaped over the stem of the cutter, and made his way to the stern, where he jumped over the backboard, and took his place at the tiller ropes. The cutter was backed off the ground, and out into the deeper water.
The cutter backed rapidly from the shore, and was then brought about. The lieutenant stood up in his place, and could just distinguish the Bronx, a mile and a half distant, in the gloom of the early morning. He watched her a few minutes and soon saw her swing around, and head to the south-east.
"Make the course about south, Vincent," said the officer, as soon as he discovered that the steamer was in motion.
338 "South, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Now, give way with a will, my men!" called Mr. Pennant in brisk tones, "for we shall soon have a twenty-four pound shot chasing us out."
When the cutter was about half a mile from the shore, making it about three-quarters of a mile from the fort, the peal14 of a cannon15 was heard, and a puff16 of smoke could be seen as it rose on the clear, starred sky, for the clouds had rolled away during the night. The shot dropped into the water a short distance abreast17 of the cutter.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Pennant; and this was the first time he had ever been under fire, though he had imagined it enough to feel entirely at home.
Another shot followed the first, and dropped into the water; and if it had gone fifty feet farther, it would have struck the boat.
"Good again!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I think that is about the range of those guns."
A third shot fell a little nearer the cutter; but it was evident enough that it was out of the reach of the feeble guns of the fort. The firing continued but a few minutes longer, for it was as plain to Lieutenant Fourchon as to Lieutenant 339 Pennant that the shots were harmless to the boat. The commander on shore could see by this time, if he had not before, that a gunboat was in the offing, and that he might soon have a better use for his powder than wasting it upon the boat.
The lieutenant had closely watched the movements of the Bronx. He had made the signal that the fort was not very dangerous to the well-being18 of the gunboat, and he understood her present movement. The light was increasing, and the Bronx could be distinctly seen, headed to the south-east, or in other words, making for the deep water outside the bar. Mr. Pennant still kept the cutter headed to the south.
The steamer went off till she looked very much smaller, and then changed her course to the south-west. The lieutenant in the cutter ordered the bowman to sound with the small hand lead, after he had brought the boat to a full stop. The man reported eight feet. The head of the boat was then turned to the west, and the crew ordered to give way. In a quarter of an hour more the course was checked, and the bowman directed to sound again. Sixteen feet was reported.
Mr. Pennant stood up in the stern sheets, and 340 gazed in the direction of the fort. On the shore of the Grand Pass, above the fort, were three buildings, formerly19 occupied by mechanics and laborers20. The sailing directions for entering the bay were to bring the fronts of these structures in range, and proceed for a time on the course indicated. Mr. Pennant had obtained this bearing after he had backed the boat a few feet. The depth of water then informed him that he was in the channel.
But he had no intention of again approaching the fort, and he headed the boat to the south-east, or nearly so, and then ordered the men to give way. He called the attention of the coxswain to the range, and directed him to keep it. The bowman was required to keep the lead going all the time.
"Ten and a half feet!" reported the bowman.
"That is the shoalest we shall get," added the officer.
The crew had been ordered to ease off, and the cutter moved very slowly. A quarter of an hour later the sounding was ten and three-quarters feet. The next report was fourteen feet, and then no bottom at twenty feet. The Bronx was approaching 341 the boat with full steam, and stopped her screw a short distance from the cutter. In a few moments more the boat was at the davits, and the commander of the expedition reported to Captain Passford.
"What have you here, Mr. Pennant?" asked the commander with a smile, as he pointed21 to Uncle Job, who seemed to be as bashful as a young girl, and utterly22 confounded by what he saw on the deck of the Bronx.
"That is Uncle Job, Captain Passford," replied the lieutenant. "He has been of very great service to me, and he enables me to make a very full report to you, sir. This is the captain of the gunboat, Uncle Job," he added to the negro.
The old man had no hat to touch or take off, for the mass of hair was a sufficient protection to his head; but he bowed almost to the deck, and was too timid to say a single word.
"I am very glad to see you, Uncle Job," said Christy, taking the hand of the venerable colored person. "I thank you for the service rendered to my officer. Now, Mr. Pennant, you will come to my cabin and make your report. Bring Uncle Job with you."
342 As soon as he reached the cabin, Christy brought from his stateroom twenty dollars in gold, which he presented to the old negro, who accepted the gift with many thanks.
"Dave," called the captain.
"Here, sir," replied the steward23, coming into the cabin and gazing with astonishment24 at the negro. "This man has done a good work; take care of him, give him a good breakfast, and see that no one insults him."
As soon as the steward had taken him to the steerage, Mr. Pennant made his report in full, even to the number and calibre of the guns at the fort, and including the cure he had wrought25 upon the Confederate soldier. Christy was amused at this last part of the narrative26; but he had no time to waste in conversation.
The screw of the Bronx was started again. Though the Russian was a pilot over the bar, his services were not needed as such. The first cutter had kept the range of the buildings on the island, and Mr. Flint had already picked it up. The steamer proceeded at less than half speed, but the tide was at its highest. By this time it was seven o'clock in the morning, for a great deal of the time 343 had been used up in moving the cutter and the steamer. Breakfast had been served to all hands, and Christy had fortified27 his stomach for a busy forenoon. As the Bronx proceeded on her course, the lead going all the time, making not more than two knots an hour, the report of a gun was heard from the fort.
"They are awake there," said Christy with a smile to the first lieutenant, and both of them watched for the fall of the shot, which struck the water at least a quarter of a mile ahead of the vessel5. "Beat to quarters, Mr. Flint."
The strength of the Bronx was mainly in her heavy midship gun. The commander had ascertained28 the range of the twenty-four pounder barbette guns of the fort, and made his calculations accordingly. He could batter29 down the masonry30 of the works at his leisure, if he chose to waste his time and ammunition31 in that way; but the Confederates proposed to abandon the fort, and it would not pay to destroy it.
"Fourteen and a half feet!" shouted the leadsman.
"That will do, Mr. Flint; stop her, and let go the anchor. Get out a spring astern and make it fast to that buoy," said the commander.
344 In ten minutes more the Bronx quivered under the discharge of the great midship gun, and a cloud of smoke rose above her deck.
"Good for you, Mr. Ambleton!" exclaimed Christy, a few seconds later, when he saw the wreck32 of one of the twenty-four pounders on the fort.
"I can do that again, Captain Passford," replied the gunner, who was in charge of the piece.
"Do it, then," added Christy.
He did not do quite as well every time, but in two hours there was not a gun in place on the barbette of the fort.
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1
pennant
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| n.三角旗；锦标旗 | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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7
ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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thwarts
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| 阻挠( thwart的第三人称单数 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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12
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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13
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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14
peal
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| n.钟声；v.鸣响 | |
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15
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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well-being
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| n.安康，安乐，幸福 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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ascertained
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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batter
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| v.接连重击；磨损；n.牛奶面糊；击球员 | |
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30
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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31
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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32
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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