Chapter Nineteen.

Chapter Nineteen.Return to England—Appointed to the Opossum—The Commander’s Oath—How he Kept it—The Gale—Loss of Masts—Old Popples—Death of Commander—The Pirate—End of Myers.I forgot to say in the last chapter, that before shaping our course for Malta, we ran a little way down the coast, and landed our young Reefian prisoner. It might have been better had Captain Poynder endeavoured, through his means, to treat with the old Sheikh for the liberation of his captives; but, probably, the success of such a plan was considered too doubtful to be attempted. What became of Mr Vernon’s jewel-box I do not know: I fancy the contents were of very little intrinsic value. We carried Major Norman and his daughter to Gibraltar, whence they went to England. Mr Vernon did not marry for upwards of a year after this. He and his wife are among my most intimate friends. We met with no more adventures worth recording in the oldHarold. At length we returned to Portsmouth, and being paid off, I was once more a gentleman at large. I did not long remain so, for my kind uncle took care to get me another ship as soon as possible. In the meantime, I accompanied Dicky Sharpe to the home of his father and mother, Sir John and Lady Sharpe. They were excessively kind, and made a great deal of me; and so did the Misses Sharpe, who, being a good deal older than Dicky, treated us somewhat like little children, petting and humouring our fancies, which did not altogether please me. It made me much more inclined to act like a child, and to join Dicky in any pranks he proposed. I was very sorry, however, to have to go away. It was, at the same time, no little satisfaction to both of us, that we found ourselves appointed to the same ship—a fine sixteen-gun brig, just fitting out—theOpossum, Captain Cranley. Dicky, however, got leave for two or three weeks, while I had to join at once. His friends got him the appointment because it was considered better that he should see some service in a small craft, with a smart officer, which our commander was said to be; while I joined because I was not likely to get a better. I had gone to see Larry as soon as I reached England, and found him and his wife flourishing. When I got back to Portsmouth, while the brig was fitting out, I paid him frequent visits, to the old man’s great delight; and he used to tell everybody he met what a first-rate sailor I had become, winding up invariably, with a look of no little pride, “Ay, sir, and ’twas I taught him—didn’t I, Master Neil?”I must not forget to mention my kind uncle and aunt, and Daisy Cottage, where I was always a welcome guest. He had paid the cutter off, but expected soon to obtain another appointment. Of the Marlows I could only hear that they had gone abroad; but as Miss Alice had promised to write to my aunt as soon as they had settled, I was in hopes of hearing about them. But I must get on with my story. TheOpossumwas at sea, running down Channel, with orders to wait at Falmouth for despatches and mails for Halifax, Nova Scotia. With the exception of Dicky Sharpe, all my brother officers were strangers to me, and mostly to each other, so it took a little time before we became acquainted and shook into our places. Captain Cranley, I found, was somewhat of the old school—very kind-hearted and simple-minded, and not less strict towards himself than towards others—with a nice sense of honour, and very sensitive of rebuke. I was very glad to find that my old friend Jack Stretcher had volunteered, with the hope of one day becoming a warrant-officer. I must also mention the boatswain, who, though an oldish man, had not long taken out his warrant. He was a prime seaman, with nothing very remarkable in his appearance, except that he was tall and thin, and had a long bushy beard, now somewhat grizzled. The aforesaid individual, Mr Popples, was neat and clean, and had really good manners; his great ambition being to rise in the world, though he had begun to ascend rather late in life. We youngsters had a great respect for him, notwithstanding some of his peculiarities, and should never have dreamed of playing him the tricks we did old Chissel and Trundle in theHarold. Two days after we left Falmouth, the wind, which had been from the eastward and moderate, chopped round to the westward and north-west, and began to blow very heavily. Our commander, however, was not a man to be frightened by a capful of wind; so we close-reefed the topsails, and lay upon our course as near as we could. The gallant little brig headed the seas bravely, and gave us every reason to hope that we might weather out the gale without damage. Towards the evening of the third day, however, it came on to blow harder than ever; the clouds came gathering up in thick masses, as if hurried one on the other, without the means of escaping, and the sea rose higher and higher. Mr Pullen, the master, kept glancing to windward in a significant manner.“What do you think of it, master?” asked Captain Cranley.“Why, sir, the sooner that we up-helm, and run into port, the better for the ship and ourselves,” replied Mr Pullen. “There’s no use straining a vessel till every timber in her creaks and groans with pain,—that’s my opinion.”“A very just one, master, and I’ll follow your advice,” said the captain. “All hands wear ship.”The delicate, operation was successfully performed. The helm was put up—the aftersails were brailed up and furled—more headsail was got on her. For an instant she rolled heavily in the trough of the sea; then her headsail, feeling the full force of the wind, carried her head away from it, and, like a sea-bird released from imprisonment, off she flew on rapid wings before it. A number of vessels, driven in by stress of weather, were collected in Falmouth Harbour as we entered. We ran by them, past the flag-ship, for the purpose of bringing up, when we were hailed with—“What! Captain Cranley, are you afraid of a capful of wind? There’s nothing to hurt you now outside; so go to sea again without bringing up.”These words stung our old captain to the quick.“It’s the first time James Cranley was ever taunted for being afraid of anything, much less a gale of wind; and it shall be the last time, too, whatever comes of it, so help me Heaven!”Fearfully did the old man keep his vow. Accordingly, we forthwith stood out again to sea. When we were clear of the land, we found the gale completely abated, and we had a very fine passage, till within about a hundred miles of our port, when it fell calm. Never do I recollect a more perfect calm. The sea was like lead in colour, but as smooth as glass, though every now and then there came a long, slow, gently-moving undulation, as if there were some unseen power beneath the water. There was something, I thought, very ominous in the whole appearance of the atmosphere. The barometer, the seaman’s warning friend, began also to sink, and each hour the quicksilver got lower and lower. Thus passed two days, but not a breath of wind came. Captain Cranley paced his deck with uneasy steps. The master likewise looked far from satisfied, I thought, with the appearance of the weather, and kept continually glancing round the horizon, in search of the expected sign of a change. The sails hung idly down against the masts, every now and then flapping loudly, as the vessel rolled slowly in the swell. It would have been more seamanlike had they been furled; but, to tell the truth, our commander appeared seized with a fit of infatuation, which deprived him of his usual clear judgment on professional matters. He had not got over his late unjust reprimand. With a morbid feeling of injured honour, he allowed it to rankle in his bosom. People are apt to have a foreboding of evil; but on the present occasion there were ample reasons for dreading mischief.“To my mind, if we were to furl every stitch of canvas, and send down our topmasts, we should be acting like seamen,” said old Popples, as I was forward, attending to some duty.“Why do you say that?” I asked. “The sea is like glass, and there’s no wind, nor chance of any, as far as I can judge.”“Because I haven’t sailed round the world for the last forty years with my eyes shut, Mr D’Arcy,” he replied. “Be sure, when the weather’s like this, there’s no slight gale coming on; but the commander is a good seaman, and I suppose he’ll give the order soon.”The commander, however, did not seem to apprehend any immediate change of weather. Not so Mr Pullen. Whenever he went into the cabin, he found that the silver in the barometer had sunk lower than ever; and each time he came on deck, looking more anxious than before. After some time spent in watching the sky to the northward, he walked up to the commander.“Captain Cranley, sir,” said he, “it’s my duty to tell you that, in my opinion, this weather won’t last many hours longer—not to say minutes, perhaps; and if the squall I look for catches us with all this canvas set, it will carry the masts over the side to a certainty.”“It’s the custom in the service generally for officers to wait till their opinion is asked,” replied the commander, turning on his heel, and taking a few more turns on the quarter-deck. At last he stopped, and looked out towards the northward and westward, where a thick mass of clouds was banking up, each instant rising higher and higher.“Mr Fairman,” he said, to the first-lieutenant, “call all hands to shorten sail; put the brig under double-reefed topsails. Whichever way the squall comes, we mustn’t be frightened at it this time, eh?”The command was quickly obeyed, but the air remained as stagnant as ever. Still old Popples was not satisfied.“We are better so than we were before, I’ll allow,” he remarked; “but the gale, when it does begin to blow, will, to my mind, be a regular hurricane, and we shall be glad to run before it under bare poles. Mark my words, Mr D’Arcy!”Boatswains do not always deliver their opinion thus freely about their captain; but old Popples was privileged, at all events with us midshipmen. Mr Pullen shrugged his shoulders and said nothing, though he evidently held the same opinion as the boatswain. The commander had just retired to his cabin, while the master continued his walk, turning his eye every now and then towards the quarter whence he expected the wind to come. Suddenly he stopped.“Here it is!” he exclaimed. “Up with the helm—square away the afteryards.”Scarcely had he spoken, than a terrific roar was heard, and down came the gale upon us with unbridled fury, driving before it vast masses of spoondrift, and tearing up the water into huge waves, which every instant rose higher and higher. Off flew the brig’s head, however, before it, and it seemed like a race between her and the dense sheets of spray which careered over the seas, and the clouds of scud which chased each other across the sky. Her course, however, was to be suddenly arrested. The commander made his appearance hurriedly on deck.“What means this?” he exclaimed. “There’s our port, sirs,” pointing to the north-west. “Bring the ship on a wind—down with the helm—brace up the yards!”The officers stood aghast, but the order was not to be disputed.No sooner did the brig feel the full force of the wind, than she heeled over, till her lee guns were buried in the waves, and the spray came flying over us, fore and aft. Still we looked up to it, and, had the wind not increased, we might have weathered it very well; but it was evident that the gale had not yet come to its height. Magnificently the brave little brig dashed through it; but it was fearful work,—the timbers groaned, and the masts bent, every instant threatening to go by the board. Once more Mr Pullen urged the commander to bear up.“No, no, master,” he answered, shaking his head; “I’ve sworn that no power shall ever again turn me away from the port to which I am bound; and James Cranley is not a man you would ask to break his oath, I hope.”“Well, sir, but the brig will hold her own better under closer canvas, you’ll allow,” urged the master.After some time the commander permitted the topsails to be close-reefed, but not another stitch would he take off her. Still the brig had too much sail set; and wearily and heavily she laboured through the yet fast rising seas.I had been on deck for some hours, and, drenched to the skin, was shivering with cold, when Mr Pullen, with whom I was a favourite, told me to go and lie down in his berth, our own not being tenable, from the water which the straining of the ship allowed to run into it. All the officers and the watch were on deck. In spite of the heavy pitching of the ship, I soon fell asleep. How long I remained so I know not, when a terrific noise awoke me. I felt the suffocation of drowning, and for a moment saw the water in dark green masses rushing into the cabin. In another instant it was all dark. I uttered a prayer for mercy, for I felt that the brig was on her side and sinking. Still the love of life did not desert me. Through the darkness I discerned one bright spot overhead. I made for it, and as I found my hands grasping the combings of the gun-room skylight, the brig, with a sudden jerk, righted again. I thought it was only preparatory to going down. Still I held on. The water rolled away, and disappeared from above and beneath me, and I was able to obtain a clear view along the deck. What a scene of destruction and horror met my view! Of all those living men who lately peopled her decks, not a soul was there—not a mast was standing—not a boat remained—as if the destroying sword of the Archangel had swept over them. The decks were swept clear of everything; while the green foam-topped seas, in mountain masses, rose above them, threatening every instant to overwhelm my hapless vessel. A glance showed me all this. Looking forward, I saw another head rising from the fore-hatchway; it was that of old Popples, the boatswain.“What! are they all gone?” he shouted; “then I’m captain. Lend a hand, Mr D’Arcy, and we’ll try and get the ship before the wind.”“Captain of a sinking ship you may be, Mr Popples,” I answered, amused, even in that moment of horror, at the old man’s extraordinary ambition.But there was no time for talking. I sprang on deck, as he had done, and at the same instant a cry reached our ears, and looking to leeward, we saw the faces of several of our shipmates, clinging to the spars and rigging, which still hung on to the ship.At first, surrounded as they were with the seething foam, their countenances convulsed with terror or agony, as they clung with their death-grasp to the rigging, it was difficult to recognise them; while, one by one, they were torn from their uncertain hold, and borne far away to leeward. Still some clung on. I trusted my friend Dicky Sharpe might be of the number; for even then, strange as it may seem, I pictured to myself the grief and misery his loss would cause at that home where I had lately seen him the hope and joy of a loving mother and affectionate sisters. These thoughts occupied scarcely a second. In a few moments I recovered from the sensation of almost overwhelming horror which the scene had caused; and, as I gazed more attentively, I recognised Dicky himself, with Captain Cranley, and the master, yet clinging to the rigging.The watch below, whom the boatswain had summoned, joined us without delay; and I must do him the justice to say, that no one could more nobly have exerted himself than he did in trying to save those who would speedily deprive him of his new-fledged honours. The foremast and its rigging, in falling, had torn away the chain-plates and everything which secured it forward; and the whole tangled mass of spars and ropes now hung on by the after-shrouds, and had both served to put the brig before the wind, by holding back her stern, while it allowed her head to pay off, and acted also as a sort of breakwater, which saved us from being pooped. The poor fellows in the water were crying loudly for help as they caught sight of us on deck. One of the nearest was Dicky Sharpe. Calling Jack Stretcher to my aid, I got him to heave a rope with a bight at the end which I had made. It fell close to Dicky’s head. He grasped it with one hand, and slipped it over his shoulders. We hauled on it till we got him near the side. Just then the foreyard came surging up, and I thought would strike him.“Give me your hand!” I shrieked out.I caught it barely in time. Stretcher leaned through a port, and we got Dicky in at the moment that the yard came thundering against the side, almost grazing his foot. All this was but the work of a second. Popples had in the meantime, by great exertions, managed to get the master on board; and his next attempt was to save Captain Cranley. He, however, was much further out, hanging on to one of the topmasts. None of the ropes near him which we could reach would come home. There appeared to be no means of saving him. Two other men were, however, got in.“Come, I can’t bear to see our old skipper washed away before our eyes. What will his wife and children do?” exclaimed Jack Stretcher. “I’ve no one at home to care for me; so some on you clap on here, while I just make a fly out, and see if I can’t get hold of him.”The gallant fellow had made a rope fast to his waist, and was on the point of making his perilous attempt by springing into the raging sea, when a terrific wave came rolling up astern. Its curling crest lifted high the spar to which the commander clung. I fancied that I could see his starting eyes take one last earnest glance at the ship, and his lips moved as if imploring us to save him. Then down came the wave; and as the ship was hurried on before it, its broken waters tore away his already failing grasp, and in a moment he was buried from our sight. We had no time to mourn for him then. Mr Pullen instantly took command, and Popples was fain to act as his first-lieutenant; while Sharpe and I did our utmost to make ourselves useful.The wreck of the masts, as I have said, kept the brig before the wind. While some hands set to work to rig the pumps, others got up a bit of a jury-mast, secured to the stump of the foremast. On this we managed to spread a topgallant-sail, which helped her along famously. All hands who could possibly be spared were required to work the pumps, spell and spell; and the wonder was, when we found the immense quantity of water she had taken on board, that she had not gone down. As it was, her deck and upper works leaked in every direction; and we all felt that such, even now, might be our fate. I shall never forget the anxiety of that first night, as, amid the raging seas, with the gale howling round us, our near sinking ship, battered and dismasted, ran through the darkness, every sea, as, foam-crested, it came rolling up astern, threatening to overwhelm us. Who but fools would not, on such occasions, feel the utter helplessness of their own arm to help them, or would fail to put their trust alone in Him who is all-powerful to save. Yes; it is amid the raging storm and on the battered wreck that the seaman, if his mind be but directed aright, gains a practical knowledge of the value of religion. But alas! how few—how very few—are taught religious truths; and the very men who wander round the globe, and might act as important pioneers of civilisation and Christianity among the heathen, are allowed, for the most part, to remain ignorant and profane—a disgrace, instead of an honour, to the Christian nation to which they belong. Such a state of things ought not to exist; and I ask you, my young friends, to aid in conveying the blessings of the gospel to our gallant seamen, and, through their means, to the far distant nations of the earth. But to return to the brig. For two days we ran to the southward, without any change in the weather. At length it began to moderate, and in three days more we had run into comparatively a smooth sea.No one would willingly have blamed our late unfortunate commander; but we all felt that, had he bore up in time, as a seaman should have done, instead of obstinately persisting in holding his ground, he would have saved his own and many valuable lives, and the brig would have escaped the disaster she had suffered.Mr Pullen had shaped a course for the Bermudas; but, low as they are, it was necessary to keep a very sharp look-out, to prevent running past them, or on to the coral reefs by which they are surrounded. Our landfall, however, was better than we expected; and one of the fine pilot-boats, for which the islands are so deservedly noted, coming off to us, we were safely towed into harbour. The brig was some months in the hands of the dockyard people before we were ready for sea, our despatches, after some weeks’ detention, being sent on to their destination.During the period of our stay, the merchants, as well as the military officers, were very kind to Dicky and me. The Bermudas are also called Somers’ Islands, because Sir George Somers was cast away on them in 1609, since when they have been inhabited by English settlers. Their productions are very similar to those of the West Indies. There are a number of blacks on them, who at the time I speak of were slaves, but are now, of course, free. They consist of four principal islands, the chief of which is called Saint George, and other smaller ones. They take their name from Juan Bermudez, who discovered them in 1522. I have no time to say more about the place.Before we were ready for sea, a new commander was sent out from England—Captain Idle. His name was very far from appropriate to his character. He brought us the pleasing information that we were destined for the coast of Africa, where some fast cruisers were much wanted to put down the slave-trade.Captain Idle had seen some service. He had been thirty years at sea, out of which time he had not probably spent two on shore. He had been in the North Seas and West Indies, in the Antarctic Ocean, and on the coast of Africa, in the Indian seas, and in every part of the Pacific. There was not an unhealthy station in which he had not served. He had served for ten years as a first-lieutenant. He had been three times wounded, and had obtained his rank, both as lieutenant and commander, for two remarkable deeds of gallantry; and now, as a special reward for his services, I suppose, he was sent out to the coast of Africa.A first-lieutenant also joined us—Reuben Spry by name,—and two mates, the senior of whom did duty as second lieutenant—Holland and Waller. The very day we were ready for sea we went out of harbour, and made the best of our way towards the coast of Africa. A succession of easterly winds had kept theOpossummore to the west than she would otherwise have been. We were about the latitude of Barbadoes, when, having run on during most of the night with a fair breeze, towards morning it dropped altogether, and we found ourselves rolling away in a tropical calm. As we were already in the seas where slavers are to be found, a bright look-out was kept, in the hopes of our falling in with a prize, though as yet not a sail had been seen to which it was thought worth while giving chase. As morning broke, of a day I shall not easily forget, there appeared to the southward, not four miles from us, two vessels becalmed like ourselves. One, a large barque, somewhat the nearest to us, was clearly an English merchantman; the other, a low, black schooner, had the wicked, rakish appearance of a Spanish slaver. The look-out from the foretopmast-head gave notice at the same time that he could see two boats pulling from one vessel to the other. The captain and all the officers were speedily on deck.“There’s some mischief going on there,” exclaimed Captain Idle, after a look at the vessels. “Mr Spry, call the boats away; we must send and overhaul these fellows.”Three boats, under the command of the first-lieutenant, were speedily in the water, and manned, all hands being well-armed. Waller had charge of one boat, I of the third,—and not a little proud did I feel of the honour. A cup of cocoa and some biscuit being first served out to each of us, to give us strength for the work to be accomplished, away we pulled towards the barque. It was hot enough when we started, but as the sun rose higher it grew hotter still, and the glare on the smooth water became so bright as almost to blind us; but nothing relaxed our exertions, all hands feeling that there was some work before us. The other boats had reached the barque when we were yet three miles off, and very probably had not observed us, although the people from the rigging of the merchantman must have done so. The report of firearms was now heard, and this made us redouble our efforts to get up.“The merchantman is attacked by pirates; there is not a doubt of it,” shouted Mr Spry. “Fire off your muskets, my lads; it will give both parties notice that we are coming to put a stop to their fun.”Those not pulling blazed away right merrily for a few minutes, and then watched for the result. It seemed to have encouraged one party and to have disheartened the other, for the boats we had before seen were observed pulling back to the schooner.“Follow me, Waller. After the boats, my lads!” shouted Mr Spry. “D’Arcy, do you board the barque. See if any assistance is required, and if not, pull for the schooner.”It took me but a short time to find myself alongside the barque, while the rest of our party were in chase of the strange boats. So eagerly were those on board looking out at the chase, that they did not observe me step on board. Alas! the appearance of the deck showed too plainly that mischief had already been done. One man lay dead, and two more sat on the deck, supported by their shipmates. But there were two persons in a group standing aft, whom I thought I recognised. I looked again. I was sure I could not be mistaken, and running up to them, I found myself shaking hands most warmly with Mr Marlow and his daughter. He did not recognise me; but she did in a moment, and told him who I was.“Again you have helped to save our lives, Mr D’Arcy,” he exclaimed; “for, thanks to our brave captain here, we were able to resist a band of villainous pirates who attacked us, till your appearance frightened them off.”I of course told them how happy I was to be of service, and then, finding that my presence on board the barque was not required, I tumbled into my boat, and gave way after my shipmates. The pirates’ boats had gained the schooner about ten minutes before they had. I was not long behind them, and the aid of my boat’s crew was very welcome. The deck of the schooner was crowded with men, who were making a desperate resistance. The most prominent of them fought more like a demon than a human creature. With desperate energy he wielded a huge cutlass, with which he kept the deck clear around him. His men, however, a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, blacks, and a few English or Americans, were falling thick on either side, and several had actually been driven overboard. My gallant fellows gave a loud shout as we scrambled on deck, and, led by Jack Stretcher, they cleared everything before them. Some of the pirates were forced down the hold, others overboard, and several sunk on the deck to rise no more. Still the captain stood at bay. I now had a better opportunity of observing him, and at once I recognised my old enemy, the villain Myers.“Your time is come at last, Bill Myers,” I shouted.The words seemed to have a paralysing effect. What thoughts they called up, I know not. Perhaps he had not for long been known by that name. He made a few steps backward, and then, with one bound, cleared the side of the vessel and leaped overboard. There was no land to swim to—no boat to pick him up—but ravenous sharks surrounded the scene of strife, already collected by the taste of blood. In another instant the long-sought-for smuggler, murderer, and pirate was their prey. The remainder of the pirates yielded without another blow. We found that they had shipped for a slave voyage only; but had been induced by Myers, who had lately got command, to commence a course of piracy, which, by our appearance, had happily been cut short. After some hours, a breeze springing up, we brought the vessels together. Waller and I were ordered to take the prize into Barbadoes, where the barque also was bound; while theOpossumcruised outside to look out for slavers.Mr Marlow was going to spend some time at Bridgetown, where he had a house of business. He received Waller and me most kindly, and nothing could exceed the hospitality of the inhabitants generally when they heard of our exploit. Captain Curtis, also, the master of the barque, got great credit for the way he had defended his vessel till we came to his assistance. Miss Alice Marlow had grown somewhat, but still she was very little for her age. She was, however, as kind as ever, and I, for one, was very sorry when theOpossumcame in with another prize. The survivors of the men who had boarded the barque were hung, and the schooner herself was condemned. This business being accomplished, theOpossumonce more made sail for the coast of Africa.

I forgot to say in the last chapter, that before shaping our course for Malta, we ran a little way down the coast, and landed our young Reefian prisoner. It might have been better had Captain Poynder endeavoured, through his means, to treat with the old Sheikh for the liberation of his captives; but, probably, the success of such a plan was considered too doubtful to be attempted. What became of Mr Vernon’s jewel-box I do not know: I fancy the contents were of very little intrinsic value. We carried Major Norman and his daughter to Gibraltar, whence they went to England. Mr Vernon did not marry for upwards of a year after this. He and his wife are among my most intimate friends. We met with no more adventures worth recording in the oldHarold. At length we returned to Portsmouth, and being paid off, I was once more a gentleman at large. I did not long remain so, for my kind uncle took care to get me another ship as soon as possible. In the meantime, I accompanied Dicky Sharpe to the home of his father and mother, Sir John and Lady Sharpe. They were excessively kind, and made a great deal of me; and so did the Misses Sharpe, who, being a good deal older than Dicky, treated us somewhat like little children, petting and humouring our fancies, which did not altogether please me. It made me much more inclined to act like a child, and to join Dicky in any pranks he proposed. I was very sorry, however, to have to go away. It was, at the same time, no little satisfaction to both of us, that we found ourselves appointed to the same ship—a fine sixteen-gun brig, just fitting out—theOpossum, Captain Cranley. Dicky, however, got leave for two or three weeks, while I had to join at once. His friends got him the appointment because it was considered better that he should see some service in a small craft, with a smart officer, which our commander was said to be; while I joined because I was not likely to get a better. I had gone to see Larry as soon as I reached England, and found him and his wife flourishing. When I got back to Portsmouth, while the brig was fitting out, I paid him frequent visits, to the old man’s great delight; and he used to tell everybody he met what a first-rate sailor I had become, winding up invariably, with a look of no little pride, “Ay, sir, and ’twas I taught him—didn’t I, Master Neil?”

I must not forget to mention my kind uncle and aunt, and Daisy Cottage, where I was always a welcome guest. He had paid the cutter off, but expected soon to obtain another appointment. Of the Marlows I could only hear that they had gone abroad; but as Miss Alice had promised to write to my aunt as soon as they had settled, I was in hopes of hearing about them. But I must get on with my story. TheOpossumwas at sea, running down Channel, with orders to wait at Falmouth for despatches and mails for Halifax, Nova Scotia. With the exception of Dicky Sharpe, all my brother officers were strangers to me, and mostly to each other, so it took a little time before we became acquainted and shook into our places. Captain Cranley, I found, was somewhat of the old school—very kind-hearted and simple-minded, and not less strict towards himself than towards others—with a nice sense of honour, and very sensitive of rebuke. I was very glad to find that my old friend Jack Stretcher had volunteered, with the hope of one day becoming a warrant-officer. I must also mention the boatswain, who, though an oldish man, had not long taken out his warrant. He was a prime seaman, with nothing very remarkable in his appearance, except that he was tall and thin, and had a long bushy beard, now somewhat grizzled. The aforesaid individual, Mr Popples, was neat and clean, and had really good manners; his great ambition being to rise in the world, though he had begun to ascend rather late in life. We youngsters had a great respect for him, notwithstanding some of his peculiarities, and should never have dreamed of playing him the tricks we did old Chissel and Trundle in theHarold. Two days after we left Falmouth, the wind, which had been from the eastward and moderate, chopped round to the westward and north-west, and began to blow very heavily. Our commander, however, was not a man to be frightened by a capful of wind; so we close-reefed the topsails, and lay upon our course as near as we could. The gallant little brig headed the seas bravely, and gave us every reason to hope that we might weather out the gale without damage. Towards the evening of the third day, however, it came on to blow harder than ever; the clouds came gathering up in thick masses, as if hurried one on the other, without the means of escaping, and the sea rose higher and higher. Mr Pullen, the master, kept glancing to windward in a significant manner.

“What do you think of it, master?” asked Captain Cranley.

“Why, sir, the sooner that we up-helm, and run into port, the better for the ship and ourselves,” replied Mr Pullen. “There’s no use straining a vessel till every timber in her creaks and groans with pain,—that’s my opinion.”

“A very just one, master, and I’ll follow your advice,” said the captain. “All hands wear ship.”

The delicate, operation was successfully performed. The helm was put up—the aftersails were brailed up and furled—more headsail was got on her. For an instant she rolled heavily in the trough of the sea; then her headsail, feeling the full force of the wind, carried her head away from it, and, like a sea-bird released from imprisonment, off she flew on rapid wings before it. A number of vessels, driven in by stress of weather, were collected in Falmouth Harbour as we entered. We ran by them, past the flag-ship, for the purpose of bringing up, when we were hailed with—

“What! Captain Cranley, are you afraid of a capful of wind? There’s nothing to hurt you now outside; so go to sea again without bringing up.”

These words stung our old captain to the quick.

“It’s the first time James Cranley was ever taunted for being afraid of anything, much less a gale of wind; and it shall be the last time, too, whatever comes of it, so help me Heaven!”

Fearfully did the old man keep his vow. Accordingly, we forthwith stood out again to sea. When we were clear of the land, we found the gale completely abated, and we had a very fine passage, till within about a hundred miles of our port, when it fell calm. Never do I recollect a more perfect calm. The sea was like lead in colour, but as smooth as glass, though every now and then there came a long, slow, gently-moving undulation, as if there were some unseen power beneath the water. There was something, I thought, very ominous in the whole appearance of the atmosphere. The barometer, the seaman’s warning friend, began also to sink, and each hour the quicksilver got lower and lower. Thus passed two days, but not a breath of wind came. Captain Cranley paced his deck with uneasy steps. The master likewise looked far from satisfied, I thought, with the appearance of the weather, and kept continually glancing round the horizon, in search of the expected sign of a change. The sails hung idly down against the masts, every now and then flapping loudly, as the vessel rolled slowly in the swell. It would have been more seamanlike had they been furled; but, to tell the truth, our commander appeared seized with a fit of infatuation, which deprived him of his usual clear judgment on professional matters. He had not got over his late unjust reprimand. With a morbid feeling of injured honour, he allowed it to rankle in his bosom. People are apt to have a foreboding of evil; but on the present occasion there were ample reasons for dreading mischief.

“To my mind, if we were to furl every stitch of canvas, and send down our topmasts, we should be acting like seamen,” said old Popples, as I was forward, attending to some duty.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. “The sea is like glass, and there’s no wind, nor chance of any, as far as I can judge.”

“Because I haven’t sailed round the world for the last forty years with my eyes shut, Mr D’Arcy,” he replied. “Be sure, when the weather’s like this, there’s no slight gale coming on; but the commander is a good seaman, and I suppose he’ll give the order soon.”

The commander, however, did not seem to apprehend any immediate change of weather. Not so Mr Pullen. Whenever he went into the cabin, he found that the silver in the barometer had sunk lower than ever; and each time he came on deck, looking more anxious than before. After some time spent in watching the sky to the northward, he walked up to the commander.

“Captain Cranley, sir,” said he, “it’s my duty to tell you that, in my opinion, this weather won’t last many hours longer—not to say minutes, perhaps; and if the squall I look for catches us with all this canvas set, it will carry the masts over the side to a certainty.”

“It’s the custom in the service generally for officers to wait till their opinion is asked,” replied the commander, turning on his heel, and taking a few more turns on the quarter-deck. At last he stopped, and looked out towards the northward and westward, where a thick mass of clouds was banking up, each instant rising higher and higher.

“Mr Fairman,” he said, to the first-lieutenant, “call all hands to shorten sail; put the brig under double-reefed topsails. Whichever way the squall comes, we mustn’t be frightened at it this time, eh?”

The command was quickly obeyed, but the air remained as stagnant as ever. Still old Popples was not satisfied.

“We are better so than we were before, I’ll allow,” he remarked; “but the gale, when it does begin to blow, will, to my mind, be a regular hurricane, and we shall be glad to run before it under bare poles. Mark my words, Mr D’Arcy!”

Boatswains do not always deliver their opinion thus freely about their captain; but old Popples was privileged, at all events with us midshipmen. Mr Pullen shrugged his shoulders and said nothing, though he evidently held the same opinion as the boatswain. The commander had just retired to his cabin, while the master continued his walk, turning his eye every now and then towards the quarter whence he expected the wind to come. Suddenly he stopped.

“Here it is!” he exclaimed. “Up with the helm—square away the afteryards.”

Scarcely had he spoken, than a terrific roar was heard, and down came the gale upon us with unbridled fury, driving before it vast masses of spoondrift, and tearing up the water into huge waves, which every instant rose higher and higher. Off flew the brig’s head, however, before it, and it seemed like a race between her and the dense sheets of spray which careered over the seas, and the clouds of scud which chased each other across the sky. Her course, however, was to be suddenly arrested. The commander made his appearance hurriedly on deck.

“What means this?” he exclaimed. “There’s our port, sirs,” pointing to the north-west. “Bring the ship on a wind—down with the helm—brace up the yards!”

The officers stood aghast, but the order was not to be disputed.

No sooner did the brig feel the full force of the wind, than she heeled over, till her lee guns were buried in the waves, and the spray came flying over us, fore and aft. Still we looked up to it, and, had the wind not increased, we might have weathered it very well; but it was evident that the gale had not yet come to its height. Magnificently the brave little brig dashed through it; but it was fearful work,—the timbers groaned, and the masts bent, every instant threatening to go by the board. Once more Mr Pullen urged the commander to bear up.

“No, no, master,” he answered, shaking his head; “I’ve sworn that no power shall ever again turn me away from the port to which I am bound; and James Cranley is not a man you would ask to break his oath, I hope.”

“Well, sir, but the brig will hold her own better under closer canvas, you’ll allow,” urged the master.

After some time the commander permitted the topsails to be close-reefed, but not another stitch would he take off her. Still the brig had too much sail set; and wearily and heavily she laboured through the yet fast rising seas.

I had been on deck for some hours, and, drenched to the skin, was shivering with cold, when Mr Pullen, with whom I was a favourite, told me to go and lie down in his berth, our own not being tenable, from the water which the straining of the ship allowed to run into it. All the officers and the watch were on deck. In spite of the heavy pitching of the ship, I soon fell asleep. How long I remained so I know not, when a terrific noise awoke me. I felt the suffocation of drowning, and for a moment saw the water in dark green masses rushing into the cabin. In another instant it was all dark. I uttered a prayer for mercy, for I felt that the brig was on her side and sinking. Still the love of life did not desert me. Through the darkness I discerned one bright spot overhead. I made for it, and as I found my hands grasping the combings of the gun-room skylight, the brig, with a sudden jerk, righted again. I thought it was only preparatory to going down. Still I held on. The water rolled away, and disappeared from above and beneath me, and I was able to obtain a clear view along the deck. What a scene of destruction and horror met my view! Of all those living men who lately peopled her decks, not a soul was there—not a mast was standing—not a boat remained—as if the destroying sword of the Archangel had swept over them. The decks were swept clear of everything; while the green foam-topped seas, in mountain masses, rose above them, threatening every instant to overwhelm my hapless vessel. A glance showed me all this. Looking forward, I saw another head rising from the fore-hatchway; it was that of old Popples, the boatswain.

“What! are they all gone?” he shouted; “then I’m captain. Lend a hand, Mr D’Arcy, and we’ll try and get the ship before the wind.”

“Captain of a sinking ship you may be, Mr Popples,” I answered, amused, even in that moment of horror, at the old man’s extraordinary ambition.

But there was no time for talking. I sprang on deck, as he had done, and at the same instant a cry reached our ears, and looking to leeward, we saw the faces of several of our shipmates, clinging to the spars and rigging, which still hung on to the ship.

At first, surrounded as they were with the seething foam, their countenances convulsed with terror or agony, as they clung with their death-grasp to the rigging, it was difficult to recognise them; while, one by one, they were torn from their uncertain hold, and borne far away to leeward. Still some clung on. I trusted my friend Dicky Sharpe might be of the number; for even then, strange as it may seem, I pictured to myself the grief and misery his loss would cause at that home where I had lately seen him the hope and joy of a loving mother and affectionate sisters. These thoughts occupied scarcely a second. In a few moments I recovered from the sensation of almost overwhelming horror which the scene had caused; and, as I gazed more attentively, I recognised Dicky himself, with Captain Cranley, and the master, yet clinging to the rigging.

The watch below, whom the boatswain had summoned, joined us without delay; and I must do him the justice to say, that no one could more nobly have exerted himself than he did in trying to save those who would speedily deprive him of his new-fledged honours. The foremast and its rigging, in falling, had torn away the chain-plates and everything which secured it forward; and the whole tangled mass of spars and ropes now hung on by the after-shrouds, and had both served to put the brig before the wind, by holding back her stern, while it allowed her head to pay off, and acted also as a sort of breakwater, which saved us from being pooped. The poor fellows in the water were crying loudly for help as they caught sight of us on deck. One of the nearest was Dicky Sharpe. Calling Jack Stretcher to my aid, I got him to heave a rope with a bight at the end which I had made. It fell close to Dicky’s head. He grasped it with one hand, and slipped it over his shoulders. We hauled on it till we got him near the side. Just then the foreyard came surging up, and I thought would strike him.

“Give me your hand!” I shrieked out.

I caught it barely in time. Stretcher leaned through a port, and we got Dicky in at the moment that the yard came thundering against the side, almost grazing his foot. All this was but the work of a second. Popples had in the meantime, by great exertions, managed to get the master on board; and his next attempt was to save Captain Cranley. He, however, was much further out, hanging on to one of the topmasts. None of the ropes near him which we could reach would come home. There appeared to be no means of saving him. Two other men were, however, got in.

“Come, I can’t bear to see our old skipper washed away before our eyes. What will his wife and children do?” exclaimed Jack Stretcher. “I’ve no one at home to care for me; so some on you clap on here, while I just make a fly out, and see if I can’t get hold of him.”

The gallant fellow had made a rope fast to his waist, and was on the point of making his perilous attempt by springing into the raging sea, when a terrific wave came rolling up astern. Its curling crest lifted high the spar to which the commander clung. I fancied that I could see his starting eyes take one last earnest glance at the ship, and his lips moved as if imploring us to save him. Then down came the wave; and as the ship was hurried on before it, its broken waters tore away his already failing grasp, and in a moment he was buried from our sight. We had no time to mourn for him then. Mr Pullen instantly took command, and Popples was fain to act as his first-lieutenant; while Sharpe and I did our utmost to make ourselves useful.

The wreck of the masts, as I have said, kept the brig before the wind. While some hands set to work to rig the pumps, others got up a bit of a jury-mast, secured to the stump of the foremast. On this we managed to spread a topgallant-sail, which helped her along famously. All hands who could possibly be spared were required to work the pumps, spell and spell; and the wonder was, when we found the immense quantity of water she had taken on board, that she had not gone down. As it was, her deck and upper works leaked in every direction; and we all felt that such, even now, might be our fate. I shall never forget the anxiety of that first night, as, amid the raging seas, with the gale howling round us, our near sinking ship, battered and dismasted, ran through the darkness, every sea, as, foam-crested, it came rolling up astern, threatening to overwhelm us. Who but fools would not, on such occasions, feel the utter helplessness of their own arm to help them, or would fail to put their trust alone in Him who is all-powerful to save. Yes; it is amid the raging storm and on the battered wreck that the seaman, if his mind be but directed aright, gains a practical knowledge of the value of religion. But alas! how few—how very few—are taught religious truths; and the very men who wander round the globe, and might act as important pioneers of civilisation and Christianity among the heathen, are allowed, for the most part, to remain ignorant and profane—a disgrace, instead of an honour, to the Christian nation to which they belong. Such a state of things ought not to exist; and I ask you, my young friends, to aid in conveying the blessings of the gospel to our gallant seamen, and, through their means, to the far distant nations of the earth. But to return to the brig. For two days we ran to the southward, without any change in the weather. At length it began to moderate, and in three days more we had run into comparatively a smooth sea.

No one would willingly have blamed our late unfortunate commander; but we all felt that, had he bore up in time, as a seaman should have done, instead of obstinately persisting in holding his ground, he would have saved his own and many valuable lives, and the brig would have escaped the disaster she had suffered.

Mr Pullen had shaped a course for the Bermudas; but, low as they are, it was necessary to keep a very sharp look-out, to prevent running past them, or on to the coral reefs by which they are surrounded. Our landfall, however, was better than we expected; and one of the fine pilot-boats, for which the islands are so deservedly noted, coming off to us, we were safely towed into harbour. The brig was some months in the hands of the dockyard people before we were ready for sea, our despatches, after some weeks’ detention, being sent on to their destination.

During the period of our stay, the merchants, as well as the military officers, were very kind to Dicky and me. The Bermudas are also called Somers’ Islands, because Sir George Somers was cast away on them in 1609, since when they have been inhabited by English settlers. Their productions are very similar to those of the West Indies. There are a number of blacks on them, who at the time I speak of were slaves, but are now, of course, free. They consist of four principal islands, the chief of which is called Saint George, and other smaller ones. They take their name from Juan Bermudez, who discovered them in 1522. I have no time to say more about the place.

Before we were ready for sea, a new commander was sent out from England—Captain Idle. His name was very far from appropriate to his character. He brought us the pleasing information that we were destined for the coast of Africa, where some fast cruisers were much wanted to put down the slave-trade.

Captain Idle had seen some service. He had been thirty years at sea, out of which time he had not probably spent two on shore. He had been in the North Seas and West Indies, in the Antarctic Ocean, and on the coast of Africa, in the Indian seas, and in every part of the Pacific. There was not an unhealthy station in which he had not served. He had served for ten years as a first-lieutenant. He had been three times wounded, and had obtained his rank, both as lieutenant and commander, for two remarkable deeds of gallantry; and now, as a special reward for his services, I suppose, he was sent out to the coast of Africa.

A first-lieutenant also joined us—Reuben Spry by name,—and two mates, the senior of whom did duty as second lieutenant—Holland and Waller. The very day we were ready for sea we went out of harbour, and made the best of our way towards the coast of Africa. A succession of easterly winds had kept theOpossummore to the west than she would otherwise have been. We were about the latitude of Barbadoes, when, having run on during most of the night with a fair breeze, towards morning it dropped altogether, and we found ourselves rolling away in a tropical calm. As we were already in the seas where slavers are to be found, a bright look-out was kept, in the hopes of our falling in with a prize, though as yet not a sail had been seen to which it was thought worth while giving chase. As morning broke, of a day I shall not easily forget, there appeared to the southward, not four miles from us, two vessels becalmed like ourselves. One, a large barque, somewhat the nearest to us, was clearly an English merchantman; the other, a low, black schooner, had the wicked, rakish appearance of a Spanish slaver. The look-out from the foretopmast-head gave notice at the same time that he could see two boats pulling from one vessel to the other. The captain and all the officers were speedily on deck.

“There’s some mischief going on there,” exclaimed Captain Idle, after a look at the vessels. “Mr Spry, call the boats away; we must send and overhaul these fellows.”

Three boats, under the command of the first-lieutenant, were speedily in the water, and manned, all hands being well-armed. Waller had charge of one boat, I of the third,—and not a little proud did I feel of the honour. A cup of cocoa and some biscuit being first served out to each of us, to give us strength for the work to be accomplished, away we pulled towards the barque. It was hot enough when we started, but as the sun rose higher it grew hotter still, and the glare on the smooth water became so bright as almost to blind us; but nothing relaxed our exertions, all hands feeling that there was some work before us. The other boats had reached the barque when we were yet three miles off, and very probably had not observed us, although the people from the rigging of the merchantman must have done so. The report of firearms was now heard, and this made us redouble our efforts to get up.

“The merchantman is attacked by pirates; there is not a doubt of it,” shouted Mr Spry. “Fire off your muskets, my lads; it will give both parties notice that we are coming to put a stop to their fun.”

Those not pulling blazed away right merrily for a few minutes, and then watched for the result. It seemed to have encouraged one party and to have disheartened the other, for the boats we had before seen were observed pulling back to the schooner.

“Follow me, Waller. After the boats, my lads!” shouted Mr Spry. “D’Arcy, do you board the barque. See if any assistance is required, and if not, pull for the schooner.”

It took me but a short time to find myself alongside the barque, while the rest of our party were in chase of the strange boats. So eagerly were those on board looking out at the chase, that they did not observe me step on board. Alas! the appearance of the deck showed too plainly that mischief had already been done. One man lay dead, and two more sat on the deck, supported by their shipmates. But there were two persons in a group standing aft, whom I thought I recognised. I looked again. I was sure I could not be mistaken, and running up to them, I found myself shaking hands most warmly with Mr Marlow and his daughter. He did not recognise me; but she did in a moment, and told him who I was.

“Again you have helped to save our lives, Mr D’Arcy,” he exclaimed; “for, thanks to our brave captain here, we were able to resist a band of villainous pirates who attacked us, till your appearance frightened them off.”

I of course told them how happy I was to be of service, and then, finding that my presence on board the barque was not required, I tumbled into my boat, and gave way after my shipmates. The pirates’ boats had gained the schooner about ten minutes before they had. I was not long behind them, and the aid of my boat’s crew was very welcome. The deck of the schooner was crowded with men, who were making a desperate resistance. The most prominent of them fought more like a demon than a human creature. With desperate energy he wielded a huge cutlass, with which he kept the deck clear around him. His men, however, a mixture of Spanish, Portuguese, blacks, and a few English or Americans, were falling thick on either side, and several had actually been driven overboard. My gallant fellows gave a loud shout as we scrambled on deck, and, led by Jack Stretcher, they cleared everything before them. Some of the pirates were forced down the hold, others overboard, and several sunk on the deck to rise no more. Still the captain stood at bay. I now had a better opportunity of observing him, and at once I recognised my old enemy, the villain Myers.

“Your time is come at last, Bill Myers,” I shouted.

The words seemed to have a paralysing effect. What thoughts they called up, I know not. Perhaps he had not for long been known by that name. He made a few steps backward, and then, with one bound, cleared the side of the vessel and leaped overboard. There was no land to swim to—no boat to pick him up—but ravenous sharks surrounded the scene of strife, already collected by the taste of blood. In another instant the long-sought-for smuggler, murderer, and pirate was their prey. The remainder of the pirates yielded without another blow. We found that they had shipped for a slave voyage only; but had been induced by Myers, who had lately got command, to commence a course of piracy, which, by our appearance, had happily been cut short. After some hours, a breeze springing up, we brought the vessels together. Waller and I were ordered to take the prize into Barbadoes, where the barque also was bound; while theOpossumcruised outside to look out for slavers.

Mr Marlow was going to spend some time at Bridgetown, where he had a house of business. He received Waller and me most kindly, and nothing could exceed the hospitality of the inhabitants generally when they heard of our exploit. Captain Curtis, also, the master of the barque, got great credit for the way he had defended his vessel till we came to his assistance. Miss Alice Marlow had grown somewhat, but still she was very little for her age. She was, however, as kind as ever, and I, for one, was very sorry when theOpossumcame in with another prize. The survivors of the men who had boarded the barque were hung, and the schooner herself was condemned. This business being accomplished, theOpossumonce more made sail for the coast of Africa.

Chapter Twenty.Look out for Slavers in a Boat—Weary of Waiting—A Sail in Sight—Capture her—Attacked by a Larger Slaver—Desperate Fight—Beat her off.We had been some weeks on the coast without having taken a prize, although we had chased several suspicious-looking craft, which had contrived to get away from us. At Sierra Leone we had shipped a dozen Kroomen, to get wood and water for the ship, a work which Europeans in that climate are unable to perform without great risk. At length Captain Idle began to grow impatient. One day he sent for Waller, who had been on the coast before with him, and was a very clever, active fellow.“Waller,” said he, “I want you to go away in the pinnace, and while some of these slaving gentlemen are running away from us, perhaps you may be able to render a good account of them. You will require a companion. Will you like to take D’Arcy with you?”Waller expressed his readiness to go, and to have my society; and so it was settled. Among his other accomplishments, he was a first-rate shot with a rifle, and it was reported, when he was before on the coast, that he used to pick off the men at the helm, and any of the crew who went aloft or appeared above the bulwarks, and had thus caused the capture of several slavers. I was to see this talent exerted. Jack Stretcher, who was a capital companion, went with us as coxswain. We were all dressed in thick flannel shirts, and had blankets in which to wrap ourselves at night. We had water and provisions for ten days, and a small stove, with which to warm up our cocoa and tea, and to make a stew or a broil on occasion. I do not remember that we had any other luxuries. Towards the end of the afternoon watch we shoved off from the brig’s side, having wished our shipmates “Good-bye!” with a sort of feeling that we might not meet again. While theOpossumstood away on a bowline to the northward, we shaped a course for the mouth of the Gaboon river. We arrived at our cruising ground before daybreak. Waller then ordering the men to lay in their oars, which had hitherto been kept going, and lowering the sail, told them to wrap themselves in their blankets, and to lie down under the thwarts. I kept watch while he also slept. The night was bright and beautiful, and the sea, smooth as a mirror, reflected the glittering stars which shone forth from the dark blue heavens, while our boat lay floating idly on its slumbering bosom. So deep was the silence which reigned around, that the breathing of the sleepers sounded strangely loud, and I fancied that I could hear vessels, even though out of sight, passing by, or fish rising to the surface to breathe, or cleaving the water with their fins. At other times my imagination made me fancy that I could hear beings of another world calling to each other as they flew through the air or floated on the ocean; and I almost expected to see their shadowy forms glide by me. About an hour before dawn, Waller got up and told me to take some rest. I was not sorry to lie down, albeit my rest was far from refreshing. I soon began to dream, and dreamed that I was a plum-pudding, and that Betty, the cook at Daisy Cottage, had fastened me up in a flannel pudding-bag, and put me into a pot to boil. The water soon began to simmer, and I to swell and swell away, till the string got tighter and tighter round my throat, while a thick black smoke arose from some coals which she had just put on. I was looking out of the pot, and meditating on the proverb, “Out of the frying-pan into the fire,” when, being unable to stand it any longer, I jumped out of the pudding-bag, and found myself rolling at the bottom of the boat.“Why, D’Arcy, I thought you were going to spring overboard,” said Waller. When I told him my dream, he laughed heartily, and agreed there was ample cause for it.Our blankets were wet through and through, and a dense black fog hung over us, through which it was impossible to discover the position of the sun, which had some time been up, or of any object ten fathoms off; while the sea was as smooth as a sheet of glass, and as dull-coloured as lead. As I awoke I found my throat sore from the unwholesome moisture I had inhaled. We had nothing, therefore, to do but cook and eat our breakfast, and practise patience. There was little use exhausting the men’s strength by pulling, as we were as likely to pull from, as towards, a vessel. Hour after hour thus passed away, till at length the sun conquered the mist, and gradually drew it off from the face of the deep, discovering a wide expanse of shining water, unbroken by a single dot or speck which was likely to prove a sail; while to the eastward arose a long dark line of mangrove-trees, at the mouth of the Gaboon river. The land-breeze came off to us, smelling of the hot parched earth; and we turned our eyes anxiously whence it blew, in the hope of seeing some white sail dancing before it over the bar of the river; but we were doomed to disappointment. The hot sun struck down on our heads, and tanned and scorched our cheeks, and the upper works of the boat cracked with the heat, till a beefsteak might have been broiled on the gunwale. At last the land-wind died away; there was again a dead calm, in which we roasted still faster, till the sea-breeze set in and somewhat cooled our parched tongues. Now we looked out seaward, in the hopes of finding some slaver, unsuspectingly standing in, either to ship the whole or the portion of a cargo, having already, perhaps, taken some on board at another part of the coast. Nothing is more trying to the temper than to have to sit quiet and do nothing; yet such was our fate from day to day, as we lay like a snake ready to spring on its prey. The sun rose, and roasted us, and set, leaving us to be parboiled, and rose again, without a sail appearing. We ate our breakfasts, and dinners, and suppers, and smoked our pipes, and sat up, and went to sleep again, in the same regular manner for several successive days.At length, one morning, a light breeze sprang up; and, as the fog was blown off in dense wreaths, the topsails of a schooner were seen rising above them.“Out oars, my men, and give way with a will!” exclaimed Waller, in an animated voice. “We are not yet seen, and may get alongside before they find us out.”The men, in their delight at the prospect of having something to do, would have cheered, but he silenced them. We hoped that she was a slaver; but she might, after all, be only an honest Liverpool trader. When first seen, she was little more than a mile off, to the south-west of us, running in for the land with the wind, which was from the northward abeam.“What do you think of her, Jack?” asked Waller, after Stretcher had been eyeing her narrowly.“Why, sir, to my mind, those topsails have only been cut by Spanish fingers; so I make pretty sure she’s nothing else than a nigger passage-vessel.”This announcement made the men give way still more heartily, for, though the wind was fair, we did not make sail, as we should thereby have been more quickly seen. Away we pulled, the water bubbling and hissing under our bows as we cut through it. When we got within a quarter of a mile of the chase, she saw us, we judged, by hearing a musket fired and seeing a bullet strike the water near us.“That proves he has got no guns on board. Give way, my lads!” shouted Waller.The men cheered, and bent to their oars with greater vigour. We then hoisted the British ensign, and fired a musket to make the fellow heave-to; but, taking no notice of the signal, he held on his course. The wind continued so light, however, that we were overhauling him fast; but there were signs, both on the sky and water, that it might again get up, and afford him a better chance of escaping. At all events, he was evidently not inclined to give in.“I must teach the fellow that the British flag is not to be trifled with,” said Waller, taking up his rifle. “I have no compassion on these slaving villains.”Scarcely had he spoken, when a man, whom we both took to be the captain, jumped into the netting abaft the main-rigging, and made some very significant gestures to us to be off; and directly afterwards, seeing that we continued our course, several of his crew let fly their muskets at us.“You’ve brought it on your own head,” exclaimed Waller, loading his rifle. He fired. The next moment we saw the man fall back upon his deck. There was then a great deal of shouting on board the schooner; her helm was put up, and, the breeze freshening, she began to pay off before the wind. She had not got round, though, before we were under her quarter.“Hook on to her main-chains, my lad,—hook on fast!” cried Waller.Unfortunately the bowman missed his aim; and the schooner, falling off, brought the stern of our boat in contact with her counter. Without a moment’s thought, Waller had sprung over her low bulwarks, followed by Stretcher and me. In an instant we were attacked by the whole of the slaver’s crew, who, with loud shouts and ferocious gestures, rushed aft, fully hoping, as they saw that the pinnace had dropped astern, to make us an easy prey.The mainsheet of the schooner had been eased off, the foreyards had been squared, and, with the now strengthening breeze, the schooner was running fast through the water. Waller took one glance over his shoulder, and that showed him that there was scarcely a chance of the boat overtaking us. Our fate was sealed: no mercy could we expect from the slaver’s crew. One hope only remained,—Waller had thought of it.“Knock down the man at the helm, and jam the tiller down hard!” he sung out to Stretcher. “We will keep the other fellows at bay in the meantime.”“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, as coolly as if he had been merely ordered to give a pull at the main-brace.There was a cry, and the next moment the body of the helmsman dropped on the deck. Jack had literally cut his head off with a sweep of his cutlass. The sight had the effect of making the Spaniards hang back for a moment, when Jack, putting the helm hard down, made the sails all shiver, and finally got her fore-topsail aback. Seeing what had occurred, the crew of the pinnace cheered, and, giving way, were soon clambering over the counter, while we made a dash at the Spaniards, few of whom attempted to oppose us even for a moment; most of them, indeed, throwing away their arms, made their escape to the forecastle. The rest followed their example; and in two minutes the schoonerZerlina, with a hundred and fifty slaves on board, was ours. Besides the captain, and the other man who was killed, there were twenty stout fellows, two or three only being out of fighting order with their wounds. We had difficulty enough to keep the rest quiet. They were, in truth, very sulky, and inclined to revolt, when they had recovered from their fright, and saw to how few they had succumbed. Curses, loud and many, escaped their lips, and showed that, if they had an opportunity, they would murder us, and retake their vessel, without scruple. We therefore kept four of our men as a watch over them, with loaded muskets, with orders to shoot the first who showed signs of proving mutinous. Having made these arrangements, we turned our attention to the living cargo crowded between her decks. It was a sickening sight, as we got the hatches off and looked down upon the mass of black faces which, with their white eyeballs rolling and mouths agape, gazed up at us, wondering what was next to happen. There sat a hundred and fifty human beings chained down to iron bars running across the deck—men and women of all ages, their chins resting on their knees, without space to stretch out their limbs, or to alter their position in any way; a rag round their loins being their only covering. They were in good health, not having been out many days; and there was a good supply of water and farina on board. We did our best to make them understand that we were friends, and would set them on shore again, and make them free, as soon as we could.During our examination of the schooner, we had discovered a number of spare handcuffs. Jack Stretcher brought them from below, and threw them on the deck, with a significant look at the Spaniards, who, in defiance of orders, had made several attempts to come out on deck.“I think if we was to clap ’em on to them Spanish lubbers, it wouldn’t be amiss, sir,” said he to me, holding up a pair before me.I mentioned the suggestion to Waller, who at length agreed that it would be safe to follow it, taking one-half at a time, while the rest remained in their berth under the forecastle. Jack received the necessary orders.“Ay, ay, sir,” he answered. “Senhor Dons, understando, move forewardo instanto, or I’ll drive the pointo of my cutlasho into vostros sternosos.”The prisoners understood his actions more than his words, for he fully suited the one to the other, and they showed no inclination to dispute them, he having evidently made them respect him, from his strength, and the daring he had displayed on boarding. Some we confined forward—some in the after-cabin; and most fortunate it was that we did so.It was some time before all our arrangements were made. About an hour before dark we tacked, to stand inshore again, Waller intending, should we not fall in with the brig, to shape a course for Sierra Leone. We tacked again about midnight; but when daylight came, not a sign was there of theOpossum; and, accordingly, towards the above-mentioned place we steered. We had the pinnace in tow; but we had taken the gun out of her, and placed it amidships on the deck of the schooner. Overcome with fatigue, Waller had thrown himself down aft, wrapped up in his blanket, while I stood near him, with my eyes winking, and trying in vain to be wide awake, when I was startled by the cry of “A sail on the weather-bow!”“Which way is she standing?” asked Waller, springing to his feet.“Right down for us,” answered Jack, who had gone aloft. “I was hoping she might be the brig, at first; but she’s a large square-topsail schooner, and, by the cut of her canvas, she looks like a Spanish or a Portuguese slaver.”As the stranger drew near, no doubt as to what she was remained on our minds. Waller took his measures accordingly, with perfect coolness. Seeing that the prisoners were thoroughly secured, we got ready all our arms, and supplied ourselves with ammunition. The gun amidships was also loaded to the muzzle, and covered with a tarpaulin. With the calm courage which British seamen on all occasion display, our men waited the approach of the stranger. As she drew near, we made out that she had three guns on each side, and that her decks were crowded with men. Notwithstanding this overpowering disparity of force, our men looked at her in no way daunted; and I felt sure that what men could do they would for our defence. Waller, however, judged that it would be as well to animate their courage with a few words.“Now, my men,” said he, “we are but ten of us on board this craft, but we are true and honest; and though there are probably fifty or sixty Spaniards in yonder schooner, they are a set of slaving scoundrels, who cannot stand up a moment before British seamen. They will not attempt to hull us with their shot, because they will wish to get back the schooner uninjured; so they will try to take us by boarding. I hope they may, that we may show them that they have caught a Tartar. All we have to do is to blaze away with our muskets till we can give them a taste of our cutlasses. Our big gun we’ll keep for a last dose; so now, my boys, trust in a righteous cause, and huzza for Old England and victory.”Our men cheered long and lustily, and the sound must have reached the ears of the Spaniards, and at once showed them, had they before doubted it, that the schooner was a prize to a British cruiser. They forthwith began to blaze away with their guns; but, as we had expected, they fired high, in the hope of cutting away some of our rigging, that they might the more easily lay us aboard. We replied with our musketry as soon as they got within range, and Waller picked off several of their people with his rifle, so that they probably fancied we had some good marksmen concealed under our bulwarks. When they drew nearer, however, they could not have failed to discover the smallness of our numbers. As they sailed faster than we did, all we could do to prevent their raking us, which more than once they attempted to do, was to keep away when they endeavoured to cross our bows, and to luff up again when they threatened to pass under our stern. Seeing, therefore, that the quickest way of deciding the engagement was to run us on board, they bore right down upon us; and, unable to avoid them, the fluke of our anchor became hooked on to their fore-rigging. At the same instant full thirty swarthy figures were seen crowding into the Spaniard’s riggings and nettings, brandishing their swords, with fierce cries of vengeance, thinking to terrify us into surrendering.“Now, my lads! give them the dose I spoke of,” shouted Waller.The enemy leaped down on our deck, and were already in possession of the forecastle. The tarpaulin was cast off from the gun, and the muzzle, loaded as it was with missiles of all sorts, was turned towards them, and fired right in among them where they mustered the thickest. Scarcely a man escaped being hit; five were killed outright; and so astonished were the rest, that, thinking probably that the vessel herself was blowing up, they tumbled, scrambled, and clambered back into their own schooner in the greatest confusion.“On! my boys, on!” shouted Waller; and, making a dash at the fellows, we much expedited their movements. In an instant not an enemy was left alive on our decks.“Up with the helm!” sung out Waller; and at the same time Jack and another man cutting away at the fore-rigging of the enemy, we sheered clear of him; while he, backing his fore-topsail, dropped under our stern without firing a shot. We therefore hauled our wind, and kept on our course, and soon afterwards he filled his sails, and stood away to the southward. He had enjoyed a sufficient taste of our quality. Not one of us was hurt, while a quarter of his people must have been killed or wounded.Our men gave a loud huzza as they found themselves free. To me it seemed like a wild dream. A few minutes before we were engaged in a desperate struggle for life; and now, uninjured, we were sailing gaily over the calm water, victors in the strife. Had it not been for the dead bodies of our foes remaining on the deck, we could scarcely have believed our senses. This action is considered one of the most gallant that has occurred on the coast.The next day, to our great satisfaction, theOpossumhove in sight. Captain Idle, having taken our prisoners out of us, ordered us to proceed forthwith with the negroes to Sierra Leone for adjudication.

We had been some weeks on the coast without having taken a prize, although we had chased several suspicious-looking craft, which had contrived to get away from us. At Sierra Leone we had shipped a dozen Kroomen, to get wood and water for the ship, a work which Europeans in that climate are unable to perform without great risk. At length Captain Idle began to grow impatient. One day he sent for Waller, who had been on the coast before with him, and was a very clever, active fellow.

“Waller,” said he, “I want you to go away in the pinnace, and while some of these slaving gentlemen are running away from us, perhaps you may be able to render a good account of them. You will require a companion. Will you like to take D’Arcy with you?”

Waller expressed his readiness to go, and to have my society; and so it was settled. Among his other accomplishments, he was a first-rate shot with a rifle, and it was reported, when he was before on the coast, that he used to pick off the men at the helm, and any of the crew who went aloft or appeared above the bulwarks, and had thus caused the capture of several slavers. I was to see this talent exerted. Jack Stretcher, who was a capital companion, went with us as coxswain. We were all dressed in thick flannel shirts, and had blankets in which to wrap ourselves at night. We had water and provisions for ten days, and a small stove, with which to warm up our cocoa and tea, and to make a stew or a broil on occasion. I do not remember that we had any other luxuries. Towards the end of the afternoon watch we shoved off from the brig’s side, having wished our shipmates “Good-bye!” with a sort of feeling that we might not meet again. While theOpossumstood away on a bowline to the northward, we shaped a course for the mouth of the Gaboon river. We arrived at our cruising ground before daybreak. Waller then ordering the men to lay in their oars, which had hitherto been kept going, and lowering the sail, told them to wrap themselves in their blankets, and to lie down under the thwarts. I kept watch while he also slept. The night was bright and beautiful, and the sea, smooth as a mirror, reflected the glittering stars which shone forth from the dark blue heavens, while our boat lay floating idly on its slumbering bosom. So deep was the silence which reigned around, that the breathing of the sleepers sounded strangely loud, and I fancied that I could hear vessels, even though out of sight, passing by, or fish rising to the surface to breathe, or cleaving the water with their fins. At other times my imagination made me fancy that I could hear beings of another world calling to each other as they flew through the air or floated on the ocean; and I almost expected to see their shadowy forms glide by me. About an hour before dawn, Waller got up and told me to take some rest. I was not sorry to lie down, albeit my rest was far from refreshing. I soon began to dream, and dreamed that I was a plum-pudding, and that Betty, the cook at Daisy Cottage, had fastened me up in a flannel pudding-bag, and put me into a pot to boil. The water soon began to simmer, and I to swell and swell away, till the string got tighter and tighter round my throat, while a thick black smoke arose from some coals which she had just put on. I was looking out of the pot, and meditating on the proverb, “Out of the frying-pan into the fire,” when, being unable to stand it any longer, I jumped out of the pudding-bag, and found myself rolling at the bottom of the boat.

“Why, D’Arcy, I thought you were going to spring overboard,” said Waller. When I told him my dream, he laughed heartily, and agreed there was ample cause for it.

Our blankets were wet through and through, and a dense black fog hung over us, through which it was impossible to discover the position of the sun, which had some time been up, or of any object ten fathoms off; while the sea was as smooth as a sheet of glass, and as dull-coloured as lead. As I awoke I found my throat sore from the unwholesome moisture I had inhaled. We had nothing, therefore, to do but cook and eat our breakfast, and practise patience. There was little use exhausting the men’s strength by pulling, as we were as likely to pull from, as towards, a vessel. Hour after hour thus passed away, till at length the sun conquered the mist, and gradually drew it off from the face of the deep, discovering a wide expanse of shining water, unbroken by a single dot or speck which was likely to prove a sail; while to the eastward arose a long dark line of mangrove-trees, at the mouth of the Gaboon river. The land-breeze came off to us, smelling of the hot parched earth; and we turned our eyes anxiously whence it blew, in the hope of seeing some white sail dancing before it over the bar of the river; but we were doomed to disappointment. The hot sun struck down on our heads, and tanned and scorched our cheeks, and the upper works of the boat cracked with the heat, till a beefsteak might have been broiled on the gunwale. At last the land-wind died away; there was again a dead calm, in which we roasted still faster, till the sea-breeze set in and somewhat cooled our parched tongues. Now we looked out seaward, in the hopes of finding some slaver, unsuspectingly standing in, either to ship the whole or the portion of a cargo, having already, perhaps, taken some on board at another part of the coast. Nothing is more trying to the temper than to have to sit quiet and do nothing; yet such was our fate from day to day, as we lay like a snake ready to spring on its prey. The sun rose, and roasted us, and set, leaving us to be parboiled, and rose again, without a sail appearing. We ate our breakfasts, and dinners, and suppers, and smoked our pipes, and sat up, and went to sleep again, in the same regular manner for several successive days.

At length, one morning, a light breeze sprang up; and, as the fog was blown off in dense wreaths, the topsails of a schooner were seen rising above them.

“Out oars, my men, and give way with a will!” exclaimed Waller, in an animated voice. “We are not yet seen, and may get alongside before they find us out.”

The men, in their delight at the prospect of having something to do, would have cheered, but he silenced them. We hoped that she was a slaver; but she might, after all, be only an honest Liverpool trader. When first seen, she was little more than a mile off, to the south-west of us, running in for the land with the wind, which was from the northward abeam.

“What do you think of her, Jack?” asked Waller, after Stretcher had been eyeing her narrowly.

“Why, sir, to my mind, those topsails have only been cut by Spanish fingers; so I make pretty sure she’s nothing else than a nigger passage-vessel.”

This announcement made the men give way still more heartily, for, though the wind was fair, we did not make sail, as we should thereby have been more quickly seen. Away we pulled, the water bubbling and hissing under our bows as we cut through it. When we got within a quarter of a mile of the chase, she saw us, we judged, by hearing a musket fired and seeing a bullet strike the water near us.

“That proves he has got no guns on board. Give way, my lads!” shouted Waller.

The men cheered, and bent to their oars with greater vigour. We then hoisted the British ensign, and fired a musket to make the fellow heave-to; but, taking no notice of the signal, he held on his course. The wind continued so light, however, that we were overhauling him fast; but there were signs, both on the sky and water, that it might again get up, and afford him a better chance of escaping. At all events, he was evidently not inclined to give in.

“I must teach the fellow that the British flag is not to be trifled with,” said Waller, taking up his rifle. “I have no compassion on these slaving villains.”

Scarcely had he spoken, when a man, whom we both took to be the captain, jumped into the netting abaft the main-rigging, and made some very significant gestures to us to be off; and directly afterwards, seeing that we continued our course, several of his crew let fly their muskets at us.

“You’ve brought it on your own head,” exclaimed Waller, loading his rifle. He fired. The next moment we saw the man fall back upon his deck. There was then a great deal of shouting on board the schooner; her helm was put up, and, the breeze freshening, she began to pay off before the wind. She had not got round, though, before we were under her quarter.

“Hook on to her main-chains, my lad,—hook on fast!” cried Waller.

Unfortunately the bowman missed his aim; and the schooner, falling off, brought the stern of our boat in contact with her counter. Without a moment’s thought, Waller had sprung over her low bulwarks, followed by Stretcher and me. In an instant we were attacked by the whole of the slaver’s crew, who, with loud shouts and ferocious gestures, rushed aft, fully hoping, as they saw that the pinnace had dropped astern, to make us an easy prey.

The mainsheet of the schooner had been eased off, the foreyards had been squared, and, with the now strengthening breeze, the schooner was running fast through the water. Waller took one glance over his shoulder, and that showed him that there was scarcely a chance of the boat overtaking us. Our fate was sealed: no mercy could we expect from the slaver’s crew. One hope only remained,—Waller had thought of it.

“Knock down the man at the helm, and jam the tiller down hard!” he sung out to Stretcher. “We will keep the other fellows at bay in the meantime.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, as coolly as if he had been merely ordered to give a pull at the main-brace.

There was a cry, and the next moment the body of the helmsman dropped on the deck. Jack had literally cut his head off with a sweep of his cutlass. The sight had the effect of making the Spaniards hang back for a moment, when Jack, putting the helm hard down, made the sails all shiver, and finally got her fore-topsail aback. Seeing what had occurred, the crew of the pinnace cheered, and, giving way, were soon clambering over the counter, while we made a dash at the Spaniards, few of whom attempted to oppose us even for a moment; most of them, indeed, throwing away their arms, made their escape to the forecastle. The rest followed their example; and in two minutes the schoonerZerlina, with a hundred and fifty slaves on board, was ours. Besides the captain, and the other man who was killed, there were twenty stout fellows, two or three only being out of fighting order with their wounds. We had difficulty enough to keep the rest quiet. They were, in truth, very sulky, and inclined to revolt, when they had recovered from their fright, and saw to how few they had succumbed. Curses, loud and many, escaped their lips, and showed that, if they had an opportunity, they would murder us, and retake their vessel, without scruple. We therefore kept four of our men as a watch over them, with loaded muskets, with orders to shoot the first who showed signs of proving mutinous. Having made these arrangements, we turned our attention to the living cargo crowded between her decks. It was a sickening sight, as we got the hatches off and looked down upon the mass of black faces which, with their white eyeballs rolling and mouths agape, gazed up at us, wondering what was next to happen. There sat a hundred and fifty human beings chained down to iron bars running across the deck—men and women of all ages, their chins resting on their knees, without space to stretch out their limbs, or to alter their position in any way; a rag round their loins being their only covering. They were in good health, not having been out many days; and there was a good supply of water and farina on board. We did our best to make them understand that we were friends, and would set them on shore again, and make them free, as soon as we could.

During our examination of the schooner, we had discovered a number of spare handcuffs. Jack Stretcher brought them from below, and threw them on the deck, with a significant look at the Spaniards, who, in defiance of orders, had made several attempts to come out on deck.

“I think if we was to clap ’em on to them Spanish lubbers, it wouldn’t be amiss, sir,” said he to me, holding up a pair before me.

I mentioned the suggestion to Waller, who at length agreed that it would be safe to follow it, taking one-half at a time, while the rest remained in their berth under the forecastle. Jack received the necessary orders.

“Ay, ay, sir,” he answered. “Senhor Dons, understando, move forewardo instanto, or I’ll drive the pointo of my cutlasho into vostros sternosos.”

The prisoners understood his actions more than his words, for he fully suited the one to the other, and they showed no inclination to dispute them, he having evidently made them respect him, from his strength, and the daring he had displayed on boarding. Some we confined forward—some in the after-cabin; and most fortunate it was that we did so.

It was some time before all our arrangements were made. About an hour before dark we tacked, to stand inshore again, Waller intending, should we not fall in with the brig, to shape a course for Sierra Leone. We tacked again about midnight; but when daylight came, not a sign was there of theOpossum; and, accordingly, towards the above-mentioned place we steered. We had the pinnace in tow; but we had taken the gun out of her, and placed it amidships on the deck of the schooner. Overcome with fatigue, Waller had thrown himself down aft, wrapped up in his blanket, while I stood near him, with my eyes winking, and trying in vain to be wide awake, when I was startled by the cry of “A sail on the weather-bow!”

“Which way is she standing?” asked Waller, springing to his feet.

“Right down for us,” answered Jack, who had gone aloft. “I was hoping she might be the brig, at first; but she’s a large square-topsail schooner, and, by the cut of her canvas, she looks like a Spanish or a Portuguese slaver.”

As the stranger drew near, no doubt as to what she was remained on our minds. Waller took his measures accordingly, with perfect coolness. Seeing that the prisoners were thoroughly secured, we got ready all our arms, and supplied ourselves with ammunition. The gun amidships was also loaded to the muzzle, and covered with a tarpaulin. With the calm courage which British seamen on all occasion display, our men waited the approach of the stranger. As she drew near, we made out that she had three guns on each side, and that her decks were crowded with men. Notwithstanding this overpowering disparity of force, our men looked at her in no way daunted; and I felt sure that what men could do they would for our defence. Waller, however, judged that it would be as well to animate their courage with a few words.

“Now, my men,” said he, “we are but ten of us on board this craft, but we are true and honest; and though there are probably fifty or sixty Spaniards in yonder schooner, they are a set of slaving scoundrels, who cannot stand up a moment before British seamen. They will not attempt to hull us with their shot, because they will wish to get back the schooner uninjured; so they will try to take us by boarding. I hope they may, that we may show them that they have caught a Tartar. All we have to do is to blaze away with our muskets till we can give them a taste of our cutlasses. Our big gun we’ll keep for a last dose; so now, my boys, trust in a righteous cause, and huzza for Old England and victory.”

Our men cheered long and lustily, and the sound must have reached the ears of the Spaniards, and at once showed them, had they before doubted it, that the schooner was a prize to a British cruiser. They forthwith began to blaze away with their guns; but, as we had expected, they fired high, in the hope of cutting away some of our rigging, that they might the more easily lay us aboard. We replied with our musketry as soon as they got within range, and Waller picked off several of their people with his rifle, so that they probably fancied we had some good marksmen concealed under our bulwarks. When they drew nearer, however, they could not have failed to discover the smallness of our numbers. As they sailed faster than we did, all we could do to prevent their raking us, which more than once they attempted to do, was to keep away when they endeavoured to cross our bows, and to luff up again when they threatened to pass under our stern. Seeing, therefore, that the quickest way of deciding the engagement was to run us on board, they bore right down upon us; and, unable to avoid them, the fluke of our anchor became hooked on to their fore-rigging. At the same instant full thirty swarthy figures were seen crowding into the Spaniard’s riggings and nettings, brandishing their swords, with fierce cries of vengeance, thinking to terrify us into surrendering.

“Now, my lads! give them the dose I spoke of,” shouted Waller.

The enemy leaped down on our deck, and were already in possession of the forecastle. The tarpaulin was cast off from the gun, and the muzzle, loaded as it was with missiles of all sorts, was turned towards them, and fired right in among them where they mustered the thickest. Scarcely a man escaped being hit; five were killed outright; and so astonished were the rest, that, thinking probably that the vessel herself was blowing up, they tumbled, scrambled, and clambered back into their own schooner in the greatest confusion.

“On! my boys, on!” shouted Waller; and, making a dash at the fellows, we much expedited their movements. In an instant not an enemy was left alive on our decks.

“Up with the helm!” sung out Waller; and at the same time Jack and another man cutting away at the fore-rigging of the enemy, we sheered clear of him; while he, backing his fore-topsail, dropped under our stern without firing a shot. We therefore hauled our wind, and kept on our course, and soon afterwards he filled his sails, and stood away to the southward. He had enjoyed a sufficient taste of our quality. Not one of us was hurt, while a quarter of his people must have been killed or wounded.

Our men gave a loud huzza as they found themselves free. To me it seemed like a wild dream. A few minutes before we were engaged in a desperate struggle for life; and now, uninjured, we were sailing gaily over the calm water, victors in the strife. Had it not been for the dead bodies of our foes remaining on the deck, we could scarcely have believed our senses. This action is considered one of the most gallant that has occurred on the coast.

The next day, to our great satisfaction, theOpossumhove in sight. Captain Idle, having taken our prisoners out of us, ordered us to proceed forthwith with the negroes to Sierra Leone for adjudication.

Chapter Twenty One.Blown off the Coast—Waller’s Kindness to the Negroes—Run Short of Provisions and Water—Vessel Leaking—American Hard-heartedness—Waller’s Noble Resolve—Beach Bahia—Audacious Trick of Brazilian Slave-dealers.We had parted from theOpossumabout a couple of days, when we observed signs of one of those terrific easterly gales which sometimes blow off the coast of Africa. Waller, from his previous experience, knew them, and remarked them in time, so that we were able to get all snug to meet the wind when it came. On a sudden the hitherto calm leaden water was covered with a foam-drift, like the fine sand swept across the stony desert. The only sail we had set was a close-reefed topsail and storm-jib; the helm was put up, and away she flew before the gale, swift as the albatross on its snowy wing. Away, away we sped, and soon, leaving the African coast far astern, were ploughing the water of the South Atlantic. TheZerlina, though a beautiful model, as are most of her class, was flimsily built, and far from a good sea-boat, speed only having been cared for in her construction. As we got away from the land, we met a good deal of sea, in which she laboured much; and Ned Awlhole, one of the carpenter’s mates, who was acting carpenter, came one afternoon with a very long face into the cabin, where Waller and I were sitting at dinner, to inform us that she was making far more water than was satisfactory.“Get the pumps rigged, then, and we must try and keep her clear till we can manage to beat back to Sierra Leone,” said Waller, as coolly as if it were a matter of slight importance.“It is rather a serious thing this, is it not?” I observed. “I wonder you make so light of it.”“Very serious; and on that account it behoves us, as officers, to keep up our own spirits, and to cheer up the men,” he replied. “I am sorry to say also, that I very much fear we shall fall short of water before we get into port, if this wind continues; and, with all these poor blacks on board, that will indeed be a very serious thing. Good seamanship may enable us to keep, the ship afloat, but God only can provide us with water.”“What must we do, then?” I asked.“We must place all hands on short allowance, and we may fall in with some vessel which may supply us; or showers may come, and we may collect enough for our more pressing wants,” he replied. “We must keep the poor negroes on deck as much as possible—with fresh air they may exist with less water.”Waller had speedily won the confidence and affection of the negroes, by his kindness and considerate conduct. At first, when we had taken possession of the vessel, they looked upon us as enemies, for the Spaniards had told them that we should cook and eat them; but Waller, who could speak a few words of their language, soon tranquillised their fears on that account. He then got upon deck the sick, and those whose limbs were chafed or bruised, and gave them medicines, and dressed their wounds with his own hands. He told them that they should be set free to go where they wished, and should, if possible, be enabled to return to their own country. Few, however, had any hope of being enabled to do the latter, for they had mostly all been taken in war, or kidnapped from districts away from the coast, the wars being undertaken by the chiefs nearer the sea for the express purpose of making prisoners to sell into slavery. Two or three of those who had been kidnapped had already been at Sierra Leone, or other British settlements, and as they understood a good deal of English, we were able to communicate pretty freely with them. We found them, poor children of Ham, very intelligent fellows, and as capable of receiving instruction as the people of any other race I have ever met. Waller’s good example was followed by the crew, and at last each man vied in showing kindness to the poor wretches, so that they learned to look on us truly as their friends and protectors. We did but our duty. They were our fellow-creatures, and we were soon to be fellows in suffering. At first I own it was very trying, and more than once, as I was dressing their wounds, I turned sick; but I recollected that they were fellow-beings, with human feelings, and souls to be saved, like ours, and I returned to my duty with renewed strength to perform it. At length we found that we could, with perfect safety, allow all the blacks to come on deck as they liked. Whenever Waller appeared, they shouted after him—“How do, Masser Waller? Bless ’um, Masser Waller!” And some would come and kneel down, and put his hand on their heads, with a look of affection which was unmistakeable.“I believe, sir, it’s all very right with these poor fellows, and there’s no harm in them,” said Jack Stretcher to me one day. “But, to my mind, it doesn’t do to trust these strange niggers too much. They sometimes, I’ve heard, rises and cuts the throats of their friends.”I agreed with Jack that it was necessary, in most cases, to be cautious; but in the present instance it was evident, as things turned out, that it was owing to Waller’s judicious treatment of the negroes that all our lives were preserved.All this time the wind was blowing so strongly from the eastward, that we found it impossible to beat up against it, so we had nothing else to do but to continue running before it. Every day matters were getting more and more serious; our own provisions were growing shorter. Of anything like luxuries we had none—salt beef and pork, hard biscuit and rice, and a little tea and sugar, with a cask of rum—none of the best either, by-the-bye. Waller called me into the cabin for a consultation.“To get back to the coast is now impossible,” he remarked. “If this wind holds, and we can keep the craft afloat, our best chance is to try and make the coast of Brazil. The port of Bahia is the nearest, and I propose steering for that place.”I agreed with him; but we neither of us had any very strong hopes of being really able to make it in time to save our own lives and those of the negroes. On carefully examining our stock of provisions, we found that only by the most economical expenditure of them, and with the most favourable weather, should we be able to reach our destination in time. A foul wind, or a day or two of calm, would ruin us; and a gale would in all probability send us to the bottom. The blacks, of their own accord, took their spell at the pumps, and finally relieved our men entirely of the labour. Had they been compelled to continue pumping, it would, I am certain, have worn them out. We most dreaded a want of water. Not a cloud appeared from which we might draw it forth, and scarcely could we expect a shower. Though constantly on the look-out, not a vessel could we see, from whence we might get provisions. At length, one morning, as Jack Stretcher had gone aloft—“A sail on the weather-bow!” he sung out, in a cheery tone, which gave hope to all our hearts. “She’s standing across our course, so we can speak her without altering it.”In about two hours we were up to her. She was a good sized brig, and the ensign, with the stars and stripes, which flew out at her peak, showed that she hailed from the United States. We had a signal of distress flying, in addition to the British ensign.“Hillo! what are you?” sung out a man in her main-rigging.“A prize to His Britannic Majesty’s brig of warOpossum,” answered Waller. “What are you?”“TheGo-along, from Baltimore, bound for Rio,” answered a person on board the brig, through a speaking-trumpet.“Heave-to, if you please, sir, and I will pay you a visit—we are in great distress,” said Waller.“Ay, ay, sir,” was the reply from the brig, as she was speedily brought up on a wind and hove-to.So soon as we could get a boat in the water, leaving Jack in charge, Waller and I went on board the brig. The master, a tall, thin, sallow man, with a pointed beard, no whiskers, and a hooked nose, with a huge cigar in his mouth, a straw hat on his head, loose nankeen trousers, and a gingham swallow-tailed coat, received us at the gangway.“Walk into the cabin, gentlemen, and let’s liquor a bit,” said he, as we stepped on board, showing us the way before we had time to reply.The cabin, to our eyes, looked luxuriously furnished, and not unwelcome was the repast of cold beef and ham and fine biscuits which the steward placed speedily before us, not forgetting a spirit-stand with four tall bottles. We did ample justice to the good things placed before us.“And now, what’s your pleasure, Mr Lieutenant?” laid the master of the brig.Waller explained exactly what had occurred. “And now,” he continued, “we are in a sinking state; we have neither provisions nor water to last us till we can reach a port; and the destruction of all these poor people is sealed if you do not help us.”“What! take all them dirty niggers aboard my craft?” exclaimed the skipper, with a look of ineffable disgust. “You Britishers have rum notions, I calculate.”“No, pardon me,” said Waller. “I only ask you to preserve from almost certain destruction a number of our fellow-creatures; and any remuneration which you may require will certainly be paid you.”“What! do you call them black niggers fellow-creatures, master? That’s a rum joke, I guess,” exclaimed the skipper. “I should be happy to be of service to you, but you are so unreasonable,—that you are.”“Scarcely unreasonable, sir,” urged Waller, mildly. “Can you not name a sum for which you could land all the people I have on board at Bahia, or the nearest port we can make.”“No, sir; I guess no sum would pay me to defile my vessel in the way you propose,” said the Yankee. “I’ll take you and your own crew with pleasure; but the niggers are out of the question.”“What! would you leave the poor wretches to perish in the most horrible way, with thirst and starvation?” exclaimed Waller, shuddering at the thought.“They are niggers,” said the Yankee, coolly puffing forth a cloud of smoke, and leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied look.“Hear me, sir!” exclaimed Waller, rising, a flush mantling on his brow. “I have six thousand pounds of my own in this world. That sum I will make over to you, by every legal means you can devise, if you will take these poor people on board your brig, and land them in a place of safety. This shall be over and above what my Government may award you. I entreat you, as you hope for mercy here and hereafter, to do as I ask.”“Not if you were to go down on your knees and pray till to-morrow morning,” replied the Yankee, slowly. “Niggers are niggers, and they can’t be otherwise. If you and your people like to come aboard, you are welcome. You’ve got my answer, Sir.”“Then, sir,” exclaimed Waller, rising from his seat, “I’ll trust to the negroes’ God, to mine, and to yours, for that help which you deny them. May you never be in the same strait and seek in vain for help. Good day, sir.”The Yankee looked at us with an expression more of surprise than anger as we left the brig’s deck.“Stay! you are not a bad chap, I guess. Here, just take these things; you are welcome to them.”Saying this he ordered a cask of water, some beef and biscuits, and a few little luxuries, to be put into the boat. We were not in a position to decline the gift; and, to do the Yankee full justice, he would receive no remuneration. We thanked him sincerely; and assured him that we regretted deeply our opinions on the nature of negroes did not coincide; at which he shrugged his shoulders, and we pulled back to the schooner.We again made sail for the westward.When I told Jack Stretcher what had occurred, he slapped his hand on his thigh, and exclaimed:“Mr Waller was right, sir, that he was, not to think of deserting the poor niggers; and there isn’t a man of us but would gladly stick by him to the last.”I told Waller what Jack had said, and he replied that he was sure all our people would have refused to have deserted the poor blacks, even if he had proposed so cruel a proceeding to them. We husbanded to the utmost the provisions we had brought from the brig; though, divided among all the people, there was scarcely more than enough to sustain life for a day. Still, not a seaman grumbled. Far from so doing, he willingly shared his own scanty allowance with any negro who appeared more particularly to require sustenance. It was amusing to see the weather-beaten, thick-bearded men carrying about the little black children, whose mothers were too weak to bring them on deck.Though these Africans had hitherto been taught, with good reason, to look upon white men as incarnations of devils, they began to consider our gallant fellows as something approaching to angels; and, like savages in general, always in extremes, they were ready now to worship us. Providentially the easterly wind continued, and the sea remained calm, so that we made very good way, and were able to keep the leak under. It was with a sense of deep gratitude that we at length made the land, when we had not a drop of water remaining, and with scarcely food enough to sustain life for another day. We fondly believed that all our troubles were over. The negroes shouted, and clapped their hands, and laughed with joy: some of them fancied, I believe, that they had got back to Africa. The next morning we dropped our anchor in the harbour of Bahia. Waller proposed to get the schooner repaired, to take in a supply of provisions, and to return to Sierra Leone, intending, if necessary, to bear all the expenses himself. Now I am going to relate a circumstance which may seem very strange, but is, nevertheless, perfectly true. As soon as we brought up, Waller went on shore, intending to report all that had occurred to the British Consul, and to get his assistance in carrying out his intentions. I was in the meantime left in charge on board. Waller had been gone a couple of hours, and I was looking anxiously for his return, hoping that he would bring some provisions and water, when, as I was walking the deck, I observed three boats pulling off towards us. As they came near, I saw that one of them contained several men in uniform. They stepped on board without ceremony; and one of them presented a paper, in Portuguese, which looked like an official document, though, of course, I could not make it out. I shook my head to signify this, when he commenced explaining in broken English that he and his party were sent by the Governor to convey the negroes on shore, that the vessel might be the more speedily hove-down to be repaired. I was somewhat surprised that Waller had not first returned; but it never occurred to me to suspect a fraud in the matter.While the Portuguese were speaking, three more boats came alongside, and in a very few minutes all the blacks were transferred from the schooner into them. Without an instant’s delay, the boats left the schooner’s sides; but instead of making towards the town, they pulled away to a spot some distance from it, where the negroes were landed, and I lost sight of them. About an hour after this, Waller returned.“I have settled with the Consul, who will have a large store, where our poor blackies can be housed comfortably while the schooner is repaired; but he says we must keep a strict watch over them, for the people here are such determined slave-dealers, that they will kidnap them before our eyes.”My heart sunk as I heard these words, and I felt like a culprit.“Why,” I exclaimed, “the Governor has sent and had them all conveyed on shore.”Waller could scarcely believe his senses when he found all the negroes gone. He hurried back to the Consul, who went with him to the Governor. The Governor knew nothing whatever of the matter, nor did any of the officials of the town. The Consul and some of the British in the place made every inquiry in their power, but no information whatever could they obtain. There could, however, be no doubt that some slave-dealers had carried out the nefarious plot, while, by the employment of bribes, they easily contrived to escape detection. Waller felt the matter very severely. To have the poor negroes, in whom he took so great an interest, carried into slavery, after all the toil and danger he had gone through, was almost heartbreaking. For long afterwards he could scarcely bear to speak on the subject.It was not without difficulty that we got the schooner repaired; but at last she was ready for sea, and without further delay we made sail for Sierra Leone. We had a very fine run across. Within a day’s sail of the coast, we fell in with a slaver, which, supposing us to be of the same kidney as herself, allowed us to ran alongside; so that, without the slightest opposition, we took possession of her. Although she had no slaves on board, she was in every respect fitted to carry them. She had but a small crew, it being evidently intended to take more men on board when the slaves were shipped. Waller thought it best to remove them into theZerlina, while he sent me and three hands, with Jack Stretcher as my first-lieutenant, to navigate the prize into port. As may be supposed, I felt very proud of my new command, and pictured to myself the satisfaction I should have in reporting my arrival at Sierra Leone.

We had parted from theOpossumabout a couple of days, when we observed signs of one of those terrific easterly gales which sometimes blow off the coast of Africa. Waller, from his previous experience, knew them, and remarked them in time, so that we were able to get all snug to meet the wind when it came. On a sudden the hitherto calm leaden water was covered with a foam-drift, like the fine sand swept across the stony desert. The only sail we had set was a close-reefed topsail and storm-jib; the helm was put up, and away she flew before the gale, swift as the albatross on its snowy wing. Away, away we sped, and soon, leaving the African coast far astern, were ploughing the water of the South Atlantic. TheZerlina, though a beautiful model, as are most of her class, was flimsily built, and far from a good sea-boat, speed only having been cared for in her construction. As we got away from the land, we met a good deal of sea, in which she laboured much; and Ned Awlhole, one of the carpenter’s mates, who was acting carpenter, came one afternoon with a very long face into the cabin, where Waller and I were sitting at dinner, to inform us that she was making far more water than was satisfactory.

“Get the pumps rigged, then, and we must try and keep her clear till we can manage to beat back to Sierra Leone,” said Waller, as coolly as if it were a matter of slight importance.

“It is rather a serious thing this, is it not?” I observed. “I wonder you make so light of it.”

“Very serious; and on that account it behoves us, as officers, to keep up our own spirits, and to cheer up the men,” he replied. “I am sorry to say also, that I very much fear we shall fall short of water before we get into port, if this wind continues; and, with all these poor blacks on board, that will indeed be a very serious thing. Good seamanship may enable us to keep, the ship afloat, but God only can provide us with water.”

“What must we do, then?” I asked.

“We must place all hands on short allowance, and we may fall in with some vessel which may supply us; or showers may come, and we may collect enough for our more pressing wants,” he replied. “We must keep the poor negroes on deck as much as possible—with fresh air they may exist with less water.”

Waller had speedily won the confidence and affection of the negroes, by his kindness and considerate conduct. At first, when we had taken possession of the vessel, they looked upon us as enemies, for the Spaniards had told them that we should cook and eat them; but Waller, who could speak a few words of their language, soon tranquillised their fears on that account. He then got upon deck the sick, and those whose limbs were chafed or bruised, and gave them medicines, and dressed their wounds with his own hands. He told them that they should be set free to go where they wished, and should, if possible, be enabled to return to their own country. Few, however, had any hope of being enabled to do the latter, for they had mostly all been taken in war, or kidnapped from districts away from the coast, the wars being undertaken by the chiefs nearer the sea for the express purpose of making prisoners to sell into slavery. Two or three of those who had been kidnapped had already been at Sierra Leone, or other British settlements, and as they understood a good deal of English, we were able to communicate pretty freely with them. We found them, poor children of Ham, very intelligent fellows, and as capable of receiving instruction as the people of any other race I have ever met. Waller’s good example was followed by the crew, and at last each man vied in showing kindness to the poor wretches, so that they learned to look on us truly as their friends and protectors. We did but our duty. They were our fellow-creatures, and we were soon to be fellows in suffering. At first I own it was very trying, and more than once, as I was dressing their wounds, I turned sick; but I recollected that they were fellow-beings, with human feelings, and souls to be saved, like ours, and I returned to my duty with renewed strength to perform it. At length we found that we could, with perfect safety, allow all the blacks to come on deck as they liked. Whenever Waller appeared, they shouted after him—“How do, Masser Waller? Bless ’um, Masser Waller!” And some would come and kneel down, and put his hand on their heads, with a look of affection which was unmistakeable.

“I believe, sir, it’s all very right with these poor fellows, and there’s no harm in them,” said Jack Stretcher to me one day. “But, to my mind, it doesn’t do to trust these strange niggers too much. They sometimes, I’ve heard, rises and cuts the throats of their friends.”

I agreed with Jack that it was necessary, in most cases, to be cautious; but in the present instance it was evident, as things turned out, that it was owing to Waller’s judicious treatment of the negroes that all our lives were preserved.

All this time the wind was blowing so strongly from the eastward, that we found it impossible to beat up against it, so we had nothing else to do but to continue running before it. Every day matters were getting more and more serious; our own provisions were growing shorter. Of anything like luxuries we had none—salt beef and pork, hard biscuit and rice, and a little tea and sugar, with a cask of rum—none of the best either, by-the-bye. Waller called me into the cabin for a consultation.

“To get back to the coast is now impossible,” he remarked. “If this wind holds, and we can keep the craft afloat, our best chance is to try and make the coast of Brazil. The port of Bahia is the nearest, and I propose steering for that place.”

I agreed with him; but we neither of us had any very strong hopes of being really able to make it in time to save our own lives and those of the negroes. On carefully examining our stock of provisions, we found that only by the most economical expenditure of them, and with the most favourable weather, should we be able to reach our destination in time. A foul wind, or a day or two of calm, would ruin us; and a gale would in all probability send us to the bottom. The blacks, of their own accord, took their spell at the pumps, and finally relieved our men entirely of the labour. Had they been compelled to continue pumping, it would, I am certain, have worn them out. We most dreaded a want of water. Not a cloud appeared from which we might draw it forth, and scarcely could we expect a shower. Though constantly on the look-out, not a vessel could we see, from whence we might get provisions. At length, one morning, as Jack Stretcher had gone aloft—

“A sail on the weather-bow!” he sung out, in a cheery tone, which gave hope to all our hearts. “She’s standing across our course, so we can speak her without altering it.”

In about two hours we were up to her. She was a good sized brig, and the ensign, with the stars and stripes, which flew out at her peak, showed that she hailed from the United States. We had a signal of distress flying, in addition to the British ensign.

“Hillo! what are you?” sung out a man in her main-rigging.

“A prize to His Britannic Majesty’s brig of warOpossum,” answered Waller. “What are you?”

“TheGo-along, from Baltimore, bound for Rio,” answered a person on board the brig, through a speaking-trumpet.

“Heave-to, if you please, sir, and I will pay you a visit—we are in great distress,” said Waller.

“Ay, ay, sir,” was the reply from the brig, as she was speedily brought up on a wind and hove-to.

So soon as we could get a boat in the water, leaving Jack in charge, Waller and I went on board the brig. The master, a tall, thin, sallow man, with a pointed beard, no whiskers, and a hooked nose, with a huge cigar in his mouth, a straw hat on his head, loose nankeen trousers, and a gingham swallow-tailed coat, received us at the gangway.

“Walk into the cabin, gentlemen, and let’s liquor a bit,” said he, as we stepped on board, showing us the way before we had time to reply.

The cabin, to our eyes, looked luxuriously furnished, and not unwelcome was the repast of cold beef and ham and fine biscuits which the steward placed speedily before us, not forgetting a spirit-stand with four tall bottles. We did ample justice to the good things placed before us.

“And now, what’s your pleasure, Mr Lieutenant?” laid the master of the brig.

Waller explained exactly what had occurred. “And now,” he continued, “we are in a sinking state; we have neither provisions nor water to last us till we can reach a port; and the destruction of all these poor people is sealed if you do not help us.”

“What! take all them dirty niggers aboard my craft?” exclaimed the skipper, with a look of ineffable disgust. “You Britishers have rum notions, I calculate.”

“No, pardon me,” said Waller. “I only ask you to preserve from almost certain destruction a number of our fellow-creatures; and any remuneration which you may require will certainly be paid you.”

“What! do you call them black niggers fellow-creatures, master? That’s a rum joke, I guess,” exclaimed the skipper. “I should be happy to be of service to you, but you are so unreasonable,—that you are.”

“Scarcely unreasonable, sir,” urged Waller, mildly. “Can you not name a sum for which you could land all the people I have on board at Bahia, or the nearest port we can make.”

“No, sir; I guess no sum would pay me to defile my vessel in the way you propose,” said the Yankee. “I’ll take you and your own crew with pleasure; but the niggers are out of the question.”

“What! would you leave the poor wretches to perish in the most horrible way, with thirst and starvation?” exclaimed Waller, shuddering at the thought.

“They are niggers,” said the Yankee, coolly puffing forth a cloud of smoke, and leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied look.

“Hear me, sir!” exclaimed Waller, rising, a flush mantling on his brow. “I have six thousand pounds of my own in this world. That sum I will make over to you, by every legal means you can devise, if you will take these poor people on board your brig, and land them in a place of safety. This shall be over and above what my Government may award you. I entreat you, as you hope for mercy here and hereafter, to do as I ask.”

“Not if you were to go down on your knees and pray till to-morrow morning,” replied the Yankee, slowly. “Niggers are niggers, and they can’t be otherwise. If you and your people like to come aboard, you are welcome. You’ve got my answer, Sir.”

“Then, sir,” exclaimed Waller, rising from his seat, “I’ll trust to the negroes’ God, to mine, and to yours, for that help which you deny them. May you never be in the same strait and seek in vain for help. Good day, sir.”

The Yankee looked at us with an expression more of surprise than anger as we left the brig’s deck.

“Stay! you are not a bad chap, I guess. Here, just take these things; you are welcome to them.”

Saying this he ordered a cask of water, some beef and biscuits, and a few little luxuries, to be put into the boat. We were not in a position to decline the gift; and, to do the Yankee full justice, he would receive no remuneration. We thanked him sincerely; and assured him that we regretted deeply our opinions on the nature of negroes did not coincide; at which he shrugged his shoulders, and we pulled back to the schooner.

We again made sail for the westward.

When I told Jack Stretcher what had occurred, he slapped his hand on his thigh, and exclaimed:

“Mr Waller was right, sir, that he was, not to think of deserting the poor niggers; and there isn’t a man of us but would gladly stick by him to the last.”

I told Waller what Jack had said, and he replied that he was sure all our people would have refused to have deserted the poor blacks, even if he had proposed so cruel a proceeding to them. We husbanded to the utmost the provisions we had brought from the brig; though, divided among all the people, there was scarcely more than enough to sustain life for a day. Still, not a seaman grumbled. Far from so doing, he willingly shared his own scanty allowance with any negro who appeared more particularly to require sustenance. It was amusing to see the weather-beaten, thick-bearded men carrying about the little black children, whose mothers were too weak to bring them on deck.

Though these Africans had hitherto been taught, with good reason, to look upon white men as incarnations of devils, they began to consider our gallant fellows as something approaching to angels; and, like savages in general, always in extremes, they were ready now to worship us. Providentially the easterly wind continued, and the sea remained calm, so that we made very good way, and were able to keep the leak under. It was with a sense of deep gratitude that we at length made the land, when we had not a drop of water remaining, and with scarcely food enough to sustain life for another day. We fondly believed that all our troubles were over. The negroes shouted, and clapped their hands, and laughed with joy: some of them fancied, I believe, that they had got back to Africa. The next morning we dropped our anchor in the harbour of Bahia. Waller proposed to get the schooner repaired, to take in a supply of provisions, and to return to Sierra Leone, intending, if necessary, to bear all the expenses himself. Now I am going to relate a circumstance which may seem very strange, but is, nevertheless, perfectly true. As soon as we brought up, Waller went on shore, intending to report all that had occurred to the British Consul, and to get his assistance in carrying out his intentions. I was in the meantime left in charge on board. Waller had been gone a couple of hours, and I was looking anxiously for his return, hoping that he would bring some provisions and water, when, as I was walking the deck, I observed three boats pulling off towards us. As they came near, I saw that one of them contained several men in uniform. They stepped on board without ceremony; and one of them presented a paper, in Portuguese, which looked like an official document, though, of course, I could not make it out. I shook my head to signify this, when he commenced explaining in broken English that he and his party were sent by the Governor to convey the negroes on shore, that the vessel might be the more speedily hove-down to be repaired. I was somewhat surprised that Waller had not first returned; but it never occurred to me to suspect a fraud in the matter.

While the Portuguese were speaking, three more boats came alongside, and in a very few minutes all the blacks were transferred from the schooner into them. Without an instant’s delay, the boats left the schooner’s sides; but instead of making towards the town, they pulled away to a spot some distance from it, where the negroes were landed, and I lost sight of them. About an hour after this, Waller returned.

“I have settled with the Consul, who will have a large store, where our poor blackies can be housed comfortably while the schooner is repaired; but he says we must keep a strict watch over them, for the people here are such determined slave-dealers, that they will kidnap them before our eyes.”

My heart sunk as I heard these words, and I felt like a culprit.

“Why,” I exclaimed, “the Governor has sent and had them all conveyed on shore.”

Waller could scarcely believe his senses when he found all the negroes gone. He hurried back to the Consul, who went with him to the Governor. The Governor knew nothing whatever of the matter, nor did any of the officials of the town. The Consul and some of the British in the place made every inquiry in their power, but no information whatever could they obtain. There could, however, be no doubt that some slave-dealers had carried out the nefarious plot, while, by the employment of bribes, they easily contrived to escape detection. Waller felt the matter very severely. To have the poor negroes, in whom he took so great an interest, carried into slavery, after all the toil and danger he had gone through, was almost heartbreaking. For long afterwards he could scarcely bear to speak on the subject.

It was not without difficulty that we got the schooner repaired; but at last she was ready for sea, and without further delay we made sail for Sierra Leone. We had a very fine run across. Within a day’s sail of the coast, we fell in with a slaver, which, supposing us to be of the same kidney as herself, allowed us to ran alongside; so that, without the slightest opposition, we took possession of her. Although she had no slaves on board, she was in every respect fitted to carry them. She had but a small crew, it being evidently intended to take more men on board when the slaves were shipped. Waller thought it best to remove them into theZerlina, while he sent me and three hands, with Jack Stretcher as my first-lieutenant, to navigate the prize into port. As may be supposed, I felt very proud of my new command, and pictured to myself the satisfaction I should have in reporting my arrival at Sierra Leone.

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