The Coconino weekly sun., 1893-11-16
THE SLAPPING SAL.
A Story of the Seas of Long
 Ago.

seas ana NHCl lliOIC ol OliSC-uCCh- CTS lay rotting in the Medway than were to be found in Brest harbor. But her frigates and corvettes still secured the ocean, closely followed ever by those of her rival. At the uttermost ends of the earth these dainty vessels, with sweet names of girls or of flowers, manglcd and shattered each other for the honor of the four yards of bunting that flapped from the gaffs.
 It had blown hard in the night, but the wind had dropped with the dawn ing and now the rising sun tinted the fringe of the storm wrack as it dwindled into the west, and glinted on the end less crests of the long green waves. To north and south and west lay a skyline which was unbroken save by the spout of foam when two of the great Atlantic seas dashed each other into spray. To the east was a rocky island jutting out into craggy points, with a few scat tered clumps of palm trees and a pen paut of mist streaming out from the bare conical hill which capped it. A heavy surf beat upon the shore, and at q safe distance from it the British thir- tv-two gun frigate Leda, Capt. A.. P. Johnson, raised her black, glistening side upon the crest of a wave, or swooped down into an emerald valley, dipping away to the nor'ard under easy sail. On her snow-white qua rter deck stood stiff little brown-faccd man, who swept the horizon with his glass.
 MT. Wharton" he cried, with 8 voice like a rusty hinge.
 A thin, knock-kn eed officer shambled across the poop to him.
 Yes, sir"
 five opened the sealed orders, Mir. Wharton"
 A glimmer of curiosity shone upon the meagcr features of the first lieuten- ant. The Leda had sailed with her consort, the Dido, from Antigua, the week before, and the admirals orders had been contained in sealed enve- lope
 I've were to open them on reaching the deserted island of Sombriero, lying in north latitute IS degrees, S6 min utes, west longitude 6S degrees, 2S minutes Som briero bore four miles to the northeast from our port bow when the gale cleared, MT Wharton"
 The lieutenant bowed stiffiy. He and the captain had been bosom friends from childhood. They had gone to school together, joined the navy to- gether and married into each others families, but as long as their feet were on the poop the iron discipline of the service struck all that was human out of them and left only the superior and the subordinate. Capt Johnson took a blue paper from his pocket which crackled as he unfolded it:
 The thirty-two gun frigates Leda and Dido CCapts. A. P Johnson and James MunrOe) are 10 cruise from the point at which these instruc- tiOns are read to the mouth of the Caribbean sea in the hope of encountering the French frig- ate La Gloire (4sl, which has recently harassed our merchant ships in that quarter. H. M frgatcs are also directed to hunt down the pl. ratical'craft known sometimes as the Skipping Sal and sometimes as the Hairy Hudson,' which has plundered the British ships as per marCin, inflicting barbarities upon their crews She is a small brig carrying ten light guns, with one twenty-four.p pound carronade for ward She was last seen upon the :3d ultimo 10 the northeast Of the island of Sombriero.
 "(Signed), JAMES MONTGOMERY,
 Rear Admiral
 HI. M & Colossus, Antigua"
 I've appear to have lost our consort, |" said Capt. Johnson, folding up his in structions and again sweeping the horizon with his glass. ''She drew away after we reefed down. It would be pity if we met this heavy French man without the Dido, Mir. Wharton eh?"
 The lieutenant twinkled and smiled.
 "She has eighteen-pounders on the main and twelves on the poop, sir" said the captain. "She carries four hundred to our two hundred and thirty one Capt. de Milon is the smartest man in the French service. Oh, Bobby boy, I'd give my hopes of my flag to rub my side up against her" He turned on his heel, ashamed of his mo- mentary lapse. "Mr. Wharton" said he, looking back sternly over his shoul- der, get those square sails shaken out and bear away a point more to the west"
 "A brig on the port bow" came a voice from the forecastle.
 "A brig on the port bow" said the lieutenant.
 The captain sprang up on the bull warks and held on to the mizzen shrouds, strange little figure with flying skirts and puckered eyes. The lean lieutenant craned his neck and whispered to Smeaton, the second, while officers and men came popping up from below and clustering along the weather rail, shading their eyes with their hands, for the tropical sun was already clear of the palm trees. The strange brig lay at anchor in the throat of a curving estuary, and it was already obvious that she could not get out without passing under the guns of the frigate. A long, rocky point to the north of her held her in.
 Keep her as she goes, Mir. Wharton, said the captain. Hardly worth while clearing for action, Mir. Sneaton, but the men can stand by the guns in case she tries to pass us. Cast loose the bOwchasers and send the small-arm men fn tho fyranagt1a