CHAPTER XXII.
"Now, my lads, we are in ship-shape and working order," said Captain York, after all the arrangements had been completed. "We have the bark; but what shall we do with her?"
"That's the question," replied Baxter. "I suppose we must lose our time and go on shore as poor as we came on board. But I would rather land in New York with only a shirt on my back than go a slaving."
"I say so too; but it is rather a hard case," added the new mate. "We have got our advance, and I suppose that's all we shall make out of this cruise."
"Perhaps not," I interposed.
"No matter whether it is so or not; I am satisfied," said Sanderson. "I wouldn't help take a cargo of niggers over to Cuba for all the money there is in New York. Their howls would haunt me to my dying day."
"It's always the safest way to do one's duty, without regard to consequences," I continued.
"I suppose it is," said the captain; "but it's a hard case for the men."
"Perhaps not; we will look at that matter by and by," I answered, holding up one of the books I had brought on deck. "Where shall we go? That's the first question."
"If we stand towards the coast, we may be able to find a man-of-war; perhaps the steamer that chased us yesterday," added Captain York. "I have no doubt she intends to cut off the bark somewhere on the coast."
"What do you say, Phil?" asked Sanderson.
"I say, return to New York."
"Why so?"
"We can get out of the scrape sooner and better in that way than in any other," I replied. "If we fall in with a man-of-war, the bark will be her prize; she is ours now."
"But we have too many prisoners on board to make a run of three or four weeks, perhaps five or six," suggested the captain.
"I think we can take care of the prisoners well enough. We have all the arms, and we can do everything in our own way."
"But why not hand them over to a man-of-war, if we can find one?" continued Captain York.
"Because the bark would be her prize then; now she is ours. I will read you the law, if you like."
"What law?"
"The law relating to vessels fitted out for the slave trade."
"Read on, Phil."
All hands gathered around me, deeply interested in the subject, and I read from "The Shipmaster's Assistant," in order that they might know how they stood, as follows:—
"Citizens of the United States, voluntarily serving on board of a foreign or American vessel engaged in the slave trade, were formerly subject to a fine and imprisonment; but now they are regarded as pirates, and suffer death."
"That's the idea!" exclaimed Baxter. "That's what's the matter; if we had voluntarily gone down to the coast of Africa and taken in a cargo of slaves—suffer death."
"And we must either resist or go voluntarily," added Sanderson.
"But some of us are not citizens of the United States," said Welsh.
"There are a great many other laws; and I don't think it makes any difference what country you belong to, if you are caught in the business. Some of you think it is a hard case to lose your wages. I will read you from another law, which goes on to say, that no person or persons shall build, fit, equip, load, or otherwise prepare a vessel to be engaged in the slave trade. Now hear. 'And if any ship or vessel shall be so built, fitted out, equipped, laden, or otherwise prepared for the purpose aforesaid, every said ship or vessel, her tackle, apparel, furniture, and lading shall be forfeited, one moiety to the use of the United States, and the other to the use of the person or persons who shall sue for said forfeiture, and prosecute the same to effect,' &c."
"What's the English of that, Phil?" asked Walker, scratching his head, and then hitching up his trousers.
"It means that the vessel and all that she contains shall be forfeited," I replied.
"What's thatmaw—"
"Moiety? It means one half."
"Do you mean to say that half the value of the bark will go into our pockets?"
"I am no lawyer, but that's what I think it means. In my opinion, shipmates, you will make more money by taking the vessel back to New York than you would by accepting the thousand dollars the mate offered you for the cruise."
"That's good news, but it's only a fair thing," said Baxter.
"The men who fit out a slaver are liable to a fine of from one to five thousand dollars besides, and half of that goes to the informers. We shall be the informers in this case."
"I don't care anything about that," added Sanderson. "I don't like that word. I believe in minding my own business; but it's a different thing when men are carried off as we were, and called mutineers, when we object to go slaving."
The men agreed with the new mate, and the reading of the law transformed them all into a very cheerful crew. As the result of the conference, the course of the bark was changed to the north-west, and the joyful cry of homeward bound rang through the vessel. For my own part, while I had strongly advised this plan, it caused me much regret to abandon my mission in Europe for the present. We had the north-east trades, and the wind was fresh and fair; but we could not expect to reach New York in less than three weeks.
We were over four weeks from port, and by this time the Bayard, with the Gracewoods on board, was on her way home. But I might hope to meet them in New York or in St. Louis, and this was a sufficient consolation. I should be obliged to ascertain in Chicago where my mother was, and do all I had done over again. I should be able to visit Europe during the summer, if my mother and her brother did not decide to come home before that time.
At noon I took the observations, and carefully calculated the position of the bark. I pricked the chart to indicate the place of the vessel, which was about a hundred and ten miles south-west of the Cape Verd Islands. I examined the nature of the currents, after I had made out the course with the parallel ruler. Being a new hand, I went over my figures and allowances three times before I gave out the course to the helmsman; but when I had done so, I was satisfied it was correct. I spent all my time, when off watch, in studying the "Navigator," the chart, and the currents. I found that the hard work I had done over algebra and geometry, on the Upper Missouri and in Chicago, had prepared me for the duty I was now called upon to perform. I needed more experience in practical seamanship; but I felt competent, so far as the navigation was concerned, to sail a ship all over the world.
"Mr. Waterford says he wants to see me," said Captain York to me in the afternoon. "Would you see him?"
"I should; we ought to listen to what he has to say."
"Come with me, Mr. Farringford."
I followed him into the steerage. Waterford was the picture of despair.
"York, are you in command?" groaned the sufferer.
"I am, for the want of a better master."
"Will you order one of your hands to shoot me?"
"No, I will not."
"I would rather die than be kept here. If you mean to murder me, do it at once, and don't kill me by inches."
"What can we do for you?"
"I am in pain and misery. Shoot me!"
"What can we do with him, Mr. Farringford?" said the captain, turning to me.
"Tell him to shoot me, Phil."
"No, I shall not. You are wanted in St. Louis to answer to the charge of forgery; but I am in favor of doing what I can to make you more comfortable."
"Loose me, then."
"I am afraid we might have to shoot you, then. Mr. Waterford, we are going to take the bark back to New York, and we intend to land you there. We have no desire to make you suffer, but we mean to keep you safely."
"I will give you my word that I will be perfectly quiet, if you will give me liberty to walk about the vessel."
"Give him an hour on deck, Captain York, if you please, with a hand to watch him; I don't believe in running any risks."
"I am willing," replied the new master.
I untied Waterford's feet, and released him from the stanchion. As a change of position for his arms, I tied his wrists in front of him, and then led him on deck. He could hardly walk at first, but he soon recovered the use of his limbs, and I led him up and down the deck for an hour. He felt better then, and became sullen and silent. I conducted him back to the steerage. Baxter and Sanderson then led the two Spanish passengers up for their exercise, and Palmer and myself put Waterford into one of their berths.
"Do you feel better, Waterford?" I asked.
"Yes; but you haven't seen the end of this thing yet," he growled, so naturally that I was sure his condition was very much improved.
"I think I shall be more willing to see the end of it than you will," I replied. "We wish to make you as comfortable as the circumstances will admit."
He was disposed to talk with me, after the ebullition of ill-nature had subsided; but I left him to assist in giving others of the prisoners the air and exercise which they so much needed, and which it was inhuman to deny them. The seamen among them begged for mercy, and promised to serve their new masters faithfully if they were set at liberty. We decided to let Pedro and Sylvio, the least vicious of them, return to their duty, for we were rather short-handed, and were likely to have heavy weather as we made more northing. We were obliged to keep a sentinel in the steerage all the time, which made one less for duty on deck.
We went along very well for a week, having the steady trade-wind fair all the time. Then we had calms and blows by turns. One gale lasted two days; and when the men were somewhat worn down,—for we were obliged to keep all hands on deck,—we released the rest of the seamen in the steerage on their promise to be obedient. The situation of the prisoners was far from agreeable, while the vessel pitched and rolled in the heavy sea, and the Spanish and Portuguese sailors were glad to escape on any terms.
I kept a revolver in my belt all the time, and the other officers did the same; but the pirates behaved well, and gave us no trouble. When the gale subsided, we allowed the seamen to remain upon duty, they did so well; but we soon had occasion to repent this indulgence. On the eighth day of our homeward voyage I took the deck at eight bells, in charge of the starboard watch, as usual.
At six bells, Baxter, who had just been released at the wheel, came aft and told me that nearly every man in the watch was drunk. The weather looked squally, and I was alarmed at this discovery. I went below and called the captain. When he came on deck, he ordered the light sails to be taken in, and I called all hands. To my astonishment I found that more than half of the port watch were also so drunk that they could hardly stand, and were not in condition to go aloft. Things looked serious on board just then.