Golden Hell (Golden Age Stories) by L. Ron Hubbard

Author:L. Ron Hubbard [Hubbard, L. Ron]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Adventure, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781592127573
Publisher: Galaxy Press LLC.
Published: 2010-03-02T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

WITH a scrap of paper jammed into his dirty ducks, Smoke ran out of the hut into the whitely molten sunlight and poised for a brief instant to stare out across the blue lagoon.

He saw two ships anchored there—one of them the trim white Witch, swinging gently in an offshore breeze, the other a strange black craft, heavy under jet canvas above jet hull, which flew no flag and knew no law. Smoke started to run again, when he heard the rattle of anchor chains aboard the Negrito. He knew that the pirate ship would not be long in getting underway.

The Chamorro sailors of the Witch watched the approaching longboat which carried their captain, and black faces mirrored the singleness of knowledge which was theirs as soon as they saw the determined expression on Smoke’s face.

As one man, the sailors turned about and stared after the departing Negrito, and then without further expression the crew ran to the halyards.

Smoke came aboard to the tune of hysterically rattling booms and chains.

With a strong brown hand on the heavy wheel, Smoke stood on the poop deck and watched the beach swing past the Witch’s bows as the trim craft came around to head for the open sea. A Chamorro came up on deck with an armload of machetes and rifles and Smoke nodded with approval as he watched the fellow distribute the arms to an eager crew.

There was no mystery in this avidity of the Chamorros for a fight. In the first place, they were some of the toughest specimens of Chamorros ever assembled on a deck, and in the second place, the crew of the Negrito consisted of Melanesians—men from the Solomon Islands. And between the two lay an age-old hatred which was forever fanning up with fangs of warfare.

The Witch lunged out into the sea swell as though she, too, were anxious to close with the black ship, and as the white bows clove the running sea the tenseness of taut booms and concentration and expectancy of battle fell over the entire assemblage like a cloud of red.

The Negrito had a lead of a full thousand yards, but the Negrito’s bottom was as foul as her crew and owner, and her heels were leaden when compared to the fleetness of her pursuer.

As soon as the two ships came in sight of each other, more canvas was seen to slither up the black ship’s masts and the white froth of smashed seas boiled up higher under the black bowsprit.

Yard by yard the distance between the two ships lessened until, from either, the men on the other’s decks were easy targets in spite of plunging, crazily canted decks.

A mad, hate-filled smash of rifle fire flickered up from both decks almost at the same time. Smoke turned over his wheel to a brown sailor to give a hand at the marksmanship.

He had no sooner quitted the post than the new helmsman tautened like a struck sword, driven lifelessly back by the cruel impact of a bullet in his side.

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