I need only add, that, different from the monument on Salisbury Plain, thi stones which were used in the Orcadian circle seem to have been raised from I quarry upon the spot, of which the marks are visible.
Blackbeard:
Buccaneer
(Ralph D. Paine)
Chapter I: That Courteous Pirate, Captain Bonnet
Chapter II: The Merchant Trader, Plymouth Adventure
Chapter III: Held as Hostages to Blackbeard
Chapter IV: The Captive Seamen in the Forecastle
Chapter V: Releasing a Fearful Weapon
Chapter VI: The Voyage of the Little Raft
Chapter VII: The Mist of the Cherokee Swamp
Chapter VIII: The Episode of the Winding Creek
Chapter IX: Blackbeard's Errand Is Interrupted
Chapter X: The Sea Urchin and the Carpenter's Mate
Chapter XI: Jack Journeys Afoot
Chapter XII: A Private Account to Settle
Chapter XIII: Our Heroes Seek Seclusion
Chapter XIV: Blackbeard Appears in Fire and Brimstone
Chapter XV: Mr. Peter Forbes Mourns His Nephew
Chapter XVI: Ned Rackham's Plans Go Much Amiss
Chapter XVII: The Great Fight of Captain Teach
Chapter XVIII: The Old Buccaneer Is Loyal
Chapter XIX: The Quest for Pirates' Gold
Chapter I.
That Courteous Pirate, Captain Bonnet
The year of 1718 seems very dim and far away, but the tall lad who sauntered down to the harbor of Charles Town, South Carolina, on a fine, bright morning, was much like the youngsters of this generation. His clothes were quite different, it is true, and he lived in a queer, rough world, but he detested grammar and arithmetic and loved adventure, and would have made a sturdy tackle for a modern high-school football team. He wore a peaked straw hat of Indian weave, a linen shirt open at the throat, short breeches with silver buckles at the knees, and a flint-lock pistol hung from his leather belt.
He passed by scattered houses and stores which were mere log huts loopholed for defense, with shutters and doors of hewn plank heavy enough to stop a musket ball. The unpaved lanes wandered between mud holes in which pigs wallowed enjoyably. Negro slaves, half-naked and bearing heavy burdens, jabbered the dialects of the African jungle from which they had been kidnapped a few months before. Yemassee Indians clad in tanned deer-skins bartered with the merchants and hid their hatred of the English. Jovial, hard-riding gentlemen galloped in from the indigo plantations and dismounted at the tavern to drink and gamble and fight duels at the smallest excuse.
Young Jack Cockrell paid scant heed to these accustomed sights but walked as far as the wharf built of palmetto piling. The wide harbor and the sea that flashed beyond the outer bar were ruffled by a piping breeze out of the northeast. The only vessel at anchor was a heavily sparred brig whose bulwarks were high enough to hide the rows of cannon behind the closed ports.
The lad gazed at the shapely brig with a lively curiosity, as if here was something really interesting. Presently a boat splashed into the water and was tied alongside the vessel while a dozen of the crew tumbled in to sprawl upon the thwarts and shove the oars into the thole-pins. An erect, graceful man in a red coat and a great beaver hat roared a command from the stern-sheets and the pinnace pulled in the direction of the wharf.
"Pirates, to be sure!" said Jack Cockrell to himself, without a sign of alarm. "'Tis Captain Stede Bonnet and his Royal James. I know the ship. I saw her when she came in leaking last October and was careened on the beach at Sullivan's Island. A rich voyage this time, for the brig rides deep."
The coast of South Carolina swarmed with pirates two hundred years ago, and they cared not a rap for the law. Indeed, some of these rascals lived on friendly terms with the people of the small settlements and swaggered ashore to squander the broad gold pieces and merchandise stolen from honest trading vessels. You must not blame the South Carolina colonists too harshly because they sometimes welcomed