Pirate Latitudes

They were standing at the mouth of a small cave, high on the eastern rim of Mt. Leres. Curving down below them were the green slopes of the volcano, going down more than a thousand feet into dense tropical rain forest. At the very bottom was a wide river, opening out into the harbor and the fortress of Punta Matanceros. Sunlight sparkled off the still waters of the harbor, glittering brilliantly around the treasure galleon moored there just inside the protection of the fortress. It was all laid out before him, and Hunter thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world.

Chapter 21

SANSON GAVE HUNTER another drink of water from the cask, and then Don Diego said, “There is something else you should see, Captain.”

The little party climbed up the sloping hill toward the edge of the cliff they had scaled the night before. They moved slowly, in deference to Hunter, who felt pain in every step. And as he looked up at the clear, cloudless blue sky, he felt pain of a different sort. He knew he had made a serious and nearly fatal mistake to force the climb during the storm. They should have waited and made the ascent the next morning. He had been foolish and overeager, and he berated himself for the error.

As they approached the lip of the cliff, Don Diego squatted down and looked over cautiously to the west. The others did the same, Sanson helping Hunter. Hunter did not understand why they were being so careful - until he looked over the sheer precipice, to the jungle foliage, to the bay beyond.

In the bay was Cazalla’s warship.

“Damn me,” he whispered softly.

Sanson, crouched alongside him, nodded. “Luck is with us, my friend. The ship arrived in the bay at dawn. It has been there ever since.” As Hunter watched, he could see a longboat ferrying soldiers to the shore. Along the beach, there were dozens of red-coated Spanish troops searching the shoreline. Cazalla, dressed in a yellow tunic, was clearly visible, gesticulating wildly as he gave orders.

“They are searching the beach,” Sanson said. “They have guessed our plan.”

“But the storm…” Hunter said.

“Yes, the storm will have washed away any trace of our presence there.”

Hunter thought of the canvas sling that had fallen from his feet. It would be lying now at the base of the cliff. But the soldiers would probably never find it. To reach the cliff was a full daylong hard journey through the undergrowth. They would not make that journey without evidence a party had landed on the shore.

As Hunter watched, a second longboat loaded with soldiers put out from the warship.

“He has been landing men all morning,” Don Diego said. “There must be a hundred on the beach now.”

“Then he intends to leave men,” Hunter said.

Don Diego nodded.

“All the better for us,” Hunter said. Any troops left on the western side of the island would be unable to fight in Matanceros. “Let us hope he leaves a thousand.”

…

BACK IN THE mouth of the cave, Don Diego made a gruel for Hunter to drink while Sanson put out their little fire, and Lazue held the spyglass to her eyes. She described the scene to Hunter, who was sitting alongside her. Hunter himself could see only the basic outlines of the structures by the water below. He relied upon the keenness of Lazue’s vision to guide him.

“Tell me first,” he said, “about the guns. The guns in the fortress.”

Lazue’s lips worked silently as she peered through the glass. “Twelve,” she said finally. “Two batteries of three each face east, toward the open ocean. Six in a single battery fire across the harbor entrance.”

“And they are culverins?”

“They have long barrels. I think they are culverins.”

“What can you say of their age?”

She was silent a moment. “We are too distant,” she replied. “Perhaps later, when we move down, I will see more.”

“And the mountings?”

“Carriages. I think wood, with four wheels.”

Hunter nodded. Those would be ordinary shipboard gun carriages, transferred to the shore batteries.

Don Diego came over with the gruel. “I am glad they are wood,” he said. “I feared they might be stone-mounted. That would make it more difficult.”

Hunter said, “We will blow the carriages?”

“Of course,” Don Diego said.

The culverins weighed more than two tons each. If their carriages were destroyed, they would be useless; they could not be aimed or fired. And even if the Matanceros fortress had extra gun carriages, it would take dozens of men many hours to seat each cannon back into a new carriage.

“But first,” Don Diego said with a smile, “we will breech them.”

The idea had never occurred to Hunter, but he immediately saw its value. The culverins were, like all cannon, muzzle-loaders. The crews first rammed a bag of gunpowder down the mouth of the cannon, followed by a ball of shot. Then, through a touch-hole in the breech, the powder bag was broken with a pointed quill, and a burning fuse inserted. The fuse burned through the touch-hole, ignited the powder, and fired the ball.