Chapter Eleven.

Chapter Eleven.Life on an African Cruiser.That naval officers do not idle away their time when at sea, on beds of roses, the adventures of my three old schoolfellows will, I think, convince all my readers. Who would have thought when we were together at dear old Eagle House, that they would, ere many years had gone over their heads, have actually crossed swords with real red-capped or turbaned Mahomedans, fought with true Greek romantic pirates, hunted down slavers, and explored African rivers with voracious sharks watching their mouths, hungry crocodiles basking in their slimy shallows, and veritable negroes inhabiting their banks; yet here were all the three, Alick Murray, Jack Rogers, and Terence Adair, collected on board Her Majesty’s brig of warArcher, commanded by Captain Grant. Alick had come out in the brig from England, the other two, after being shipwrecked, nearly drowned, murdered, and starved, eaten up by sharks, and having undergone I do not know how many other terrible dangers, had at last been picked up by theArcher, their own ship, theRangerfrigate, being they did not exactly know where. This last circumstance did not probably weigh very much with them. Midshipmen are not generally given to suffer from over anxiety from affairs terrestrial; but Rogers certainly did wish that he could let his family know that he was well, and picked up again, after having, as was supposed, gone down in a slaver the frigate had captured off the African coast. They were capital fellows, those three old friends of mine. Rogers was a good specimen of the Englishman—genus middy—so was Paddy Adair of Green Erin’s isle, full of fun and frolic; and a more gentlemanly, right-minded lad than Alick Murray Scotland never sent forth from her rich valleys or rugged mountains. He too was proud of Scotland, and ever jealous to uphold the name and fame of the land of his birth.TheArcherwas a fine brig, and Captain Grant was a first-rate officer. When naval officers or seamen go on board ships of war they have to take their share of the duty with the rest of the crew; so Rogers and Adair found that they should have plenty of employment, even though they might not for some time be able to join their own ship. Captain Grant considered that idleness is the mother of all vice, so he took care that no one in his ship should be idle, and certainly he had the knack of making good seamen of all who sailed with him.The midshipmen’s berth in theArcherwas a very happy place, because the occupants were, with few exceptions, gentlemanly, well-disposed, and, more than all, well and religiously educated young men. I do not mean to say by that, that they always acted with the wisdom and discretion of a bench of judges. Far from that. They were merry, light-hearted fellows, full of fun and frolic, but they could be grave, and treat serious things as they ought to be treated, with reverence and respect. Jack and Paddy quickly found themselves perfectly at home among them. TheArcherhad been standing off the coast of Africa under easy sail, when, just as the cold grey light of day stole over the waters, a vessel was seen inside of her, evidently making for a harbour in the neighbourhood. As the light increased, she was discovered to be a schooner.“All hands make sail,” cried the officer of the watch, who had just made his report to the commander.“All hands make sail,” echoed the boatswain, giving with his shrill pipe the well-known signal. “Tumble up there, tumble up there,” roared out the boatswain’s mates, with their gruff voices, to the sluggards who seemed inclined to stick in their hammocks.In a few moments the watch below were rushing up on deck and flying to their stations, and then, as if by magic, the masts and yards of the brig were covered with the broad sheets of canvas which had been furled during the night. Topgallant-sails, royals, and studding-sails being set in rapid succession, away glided the brig with her head towards the land, through the calm, leaden-coloured water. Jack and Terence had with the rest sprung on deck, not taking many moments to slip into their clothes. Few landsmen can understand how quickly that operation can, by constant practice, be performed. They had there joined Alick, who had the morning watch. Together they all went aloft to take a look at the chase.“She’s a slaver, from her evident wish to avoid us, and from the way she is standing,” observed Alick, after having taken a long look at her through his glass. “We may prevent her from embarking her slaves, and save the poor wretches the horrors to which they are always exposed, when once they get on board these iniquitous prison-ships. To look down on a slave-deck crowded with human beings, is quite sufficient to make a man abhor slavery for ever after, and to desire to put an end, with all his might, to the system which can produce such horrors.”Jack and Adair agreed that they should have great satisfaction in capturing or destroying every slaver on the coast. The stranger soon discovered that the brig of war was in chase of her, and having crowded all sail, kept away directly for the land. From the wide spread of her white canvas, and from the way she had behaved, there was no doubt she was a slaver. Everybody felt certain that they should capture the stranger; theArcherwas undoubtedly overhauling her, and she could not escape either to the north or south without their perceiving her, and cutting her off. An hour’s chase brought them in sight of the land. It was a low, uninviting shore, lined with a dense belt of mangrove bushes, a few tall palms appearing here and there above them; then the ground rose slightly, with some ranges of blue hills in the distance. As the sun rose, a mist was drawn up which floated just above the water and shut out the lower branches of the mangrove-trees, though their tops, forming a wavy dark line, could just be seen above it. None of the officers of theArcherhad been on the coast before, and as she had no pilot, it was necessary to approach it with caution. The lead was therefore kept going. The schooner stood boldly on.“The fellows will, I am afraid, run her on shore, if they can find no other means of escaping,” observed the captain, after scrutinising the chase and the coast she was approaching through his glass.“We shall have her, she can’t escape us, that’s one comfort,” cried Jack Rogers.On flew the schooner. The wind freshened somewhat. Suddenly she entered the belt of mist. Everybody on board the brig rubbed their eyes. Where was she? Not a vestige of her was to be seen. As they approached the land, the roar of the surf on the shore reached their ears. There could be little doubt that the schooner had been run on shore, and would probably soon be knocked to pieces, while her crew had made their escape to the land. Captain Grant was anxious to stand in as close as he could.“By the deep nine,” sang out one of the men in the chains.“By the mark seven,” soon repeated another.To approach nearer would not have been prudent. The canvas was therefore flattened in, and the brig’s head was once more turned to seaward. Scarcely had she hauled her wind, than the sun having risen high above the land, the mist lifted, and the whole line of coast fringed with mangrove bushes, and here and there with a white belt of sand, appeared in sight. But the chase, where was she? Not a sign of her appeared on the shore, while neither to the north nor to the south was she to be seen. Jack looked at Adair, and Adair looked at Jack, and together they discussed the matter with Alick, but neither of the three could offer any satisfactory explanation of the matter. Captain Grant and the rest of the officers appeared equally puzzled. As the brig stood closer in-shore there was a chance of the mystery being solved. The hands in the chains were kept heaving the lead, which showed that the brig was slowly shoaling her water. At length she was hove-to, and two boats were lowered. Their own lieutenant, Hemming, who had escaped with them from a sinking slaver, volunteered to take charge of one of them, and Evans, the second lieutenant of the brig, went in the other. The former, as the senior officer, had charge of the expedition.“As she cannot have escaped along shore, and certainly has not evaporated into the air, the chase must have got into some creek or inlet, the mouth of which we cannot distinguish,” observed the captain. “You will therefore search for such an entrance, and pursue, and bring her out if you can.”“Ay, ay, sir!” answered Hemming, delighted with the work in prospect.The three midshipmen got leave to go in the boat. Jack accompanied Evans, the other two went with Hemming, as did Jack’s old follower Dick Needham. Away they pulled in high spirits. As they approached the shore they observed that a long line of white surf was breaking heavily on it. Hemming stood up and scanned the coast narrowly, thinking that after all the schooner might have been run on shore, and as slavers are but slightly put together, might have speedily been knocked to pieces. As he stood up, and the boat rose to the top of the swell, he saw not what he expected, but a piece of clear water inside a narrow spit of sand, and a little to the south he observed a spot where the surf broke less heavily, and which he concluded was the entrance to the creek or river.“I have little doubt that this must be the place where the schooner has taken refuge; and as she has gone up, so may we,” shouted Hemming, pointing it out to his brother officer.Evans agreed with him, and the two boats pulled away in the direction indicated. That there was an entrance was evident, but it required great caution in approaching it. A capsize would probably prove fatal to all hands—for had any escaped drowning, they would have fallen a prey to the sharks, which in southern latitudes generally maintain a strict blockade at the mouths of rivers, to pick up any offal which the stream may bring down. The boats rose and fell on the smooth swells as they came rolling in. At last Hemming observed a space on the bar clear of broken water. He gave the signal to go ahead.“Now, my lads, now pull away,” he shouted.The boats dashed on, the surf roared and foamed on either side of them, and not only did the three midshipmen, but most of the older men in the boats, hold their breath till they were well through it, and once more floating in smooth water inside the bar. Instead of being in a mere creek, they found that they had entered a broad deep river which seemed to come down from a considerable distance in the interior. They pulled on more certain than before of finding the chase. However, after they had gone some distance, they arrived at a spot where the river formed two distinct branches, or, rather, it might be, where another broad stream joined the main current. Up which the schooner had proceeded it was impossible to say.“I’ll take one stream, you take the other,” shouted Hemming to Evans; and the boats dashed on.It was important to overtake the schooner before she got higher up, and perhaps hidden away in some narrow creek where it might be no easy matter to find her. The scenery was far from attractive. Little else on either side was to be seen but long lines of mangrove bushes, and as the tide fell black banks of mud began to appear, which it was evident would soon narrow the width of the stream. Evans and Jack took the branch of the stream which came from the southward. It wound about a good deal, so that they were aware they might any moment come on the schooner. They kept their muskets by their sides ready loaded.“I say, Mr Evans, I wish that we could see the chase some time before we get up to her,” observed Jack. “What are we to do should we find her, sir?”“Jump on board, and knock every fellow down who resists,” was the lieutenant’s answer. “Depend on it she is a slaver or pirate, probably both, and her crew will not give in without a tussle.”“With the greatest pleasure in the world,” replied Jack, who was very practical in his notions about fighting, and had no idea of half measures.The current was now making down very strong, and the boat consequently progressed but slowly. Still Mr Evans persevered. The men bent lustily to their oars, and reach after reach of the river was passed, but there was no sign of the chase. Now and then there were openings in the mangrove bushes, and more than once Jack felt certain that he saw some dark figures running along parallel with the river, and evidently watching their movements. Jack pointed them out to Mr Evans.“That looks as if we had enemies in the neighbourhood,” observed the lieutenant. “Be ready, my men—marines, look to your arms.”The boat pulled eight oars, and there were two marines in the bows, and two in the stern-sheets, sitting with their muskets between their knees. In the bows of the boat was a small swivel-gun, and all the bluejackets with cutlasses and pistols. Besides the lieutenant and Jack, there was the coxswain, and there were some half-dozen long pikes which, as the latter observed, would come in handy, if they had a fight with another boat or had to attack a fort, but for boarding he would not give a rush for them. The ebb-tide rushed past the boat dark and smooth, but with swirling eddies, which showed the strength of the current against which they had to contend.“I wonder whether the other boat has fallen in with the slaver.”“I envy them if they have,” observed Jack, who didn’t much like being silent just then.There was something very oppressive in the atmosphere, and in the dark solemn scenery which surrounded them. The sea-breeze had by this time set in and blew up the river, but it had not yet been strong enough to make it worth while to hoist the sail.“I scarcely think the schooner could have got up so far as this,” observed Mr Evans. “But we will pull on a little farther, and then if we do not see her, we will go back, and join the other boat.”They had just then arrived at the end of a reach. The extent of the next one was hidden from their sight by a point of land thickly covered with trees. They pulled on, and soon doubled the point. Directly they did so there appeared before them, pressing up the stream, under all sail, the object of their search. The men required no urging, but, bending to their oars, away they pulled in hot chase after her. The schooner stood on steadily, as if no one on board was aware of the presence of the boat of a British man-of-war. The boat rapidly came up with her. As they drew near, Jack remarked that her decks were crowded with a very ill-looking set of ruffians, but he cared little for that, and he knew that every man in the boat would be ready to attack even twice as many as there were there. They had got up to within a hundred yards of the schooner without any notice being taken of them.“Give way, my lads; we’ll be alongside in a moment,” shouted the lieutenant.Scarcely had he uttered the words, when a couple of guns were ran out at the schooner’s stern ports, and a shower of langrage, nails, bits of iron, lead, and missiles of all sorts, came rattling among them, accompanied by a volley of musketry. One or two of the seamen and one of the marines were hit, but the boat pulled on as fast as before.“Marines, give it the scoundrels,” cried Mr Evans. The red-jackets, turning round, deliberately picked off several of the people who had fired at them. They had scarcely time to load again before the boat was alongside the schooner, and the seamen, cutlass in hand, began to scramble up on her decks. Pikes were poked out at them, pistols were flashed in their faces, and cold shot hove into their boat, but fiercely as the pirates fought, they could not prevent the British seamen from gaining the deck of their vessel. Desperate was the struggle which took place there. Both parties fought for their lives. The English knew that they should receive no quarter. The pirates did not expect it either. Jack was soon knocked down, but he got up again with a somewhat ugly gash on his arm, and went at it as hard as ever. At length Mr Evans and his men gained the afterpart of the vessel, and were thus able to command her movements, but the pirates still clustered thickly in the bows, and were evidently preparing to make a rush aft. The English had left their boat, which was alongside, with her painter made fast to the fore-chains. This was an oversight. The pirates perceived it, hauled her ahead, and instead of attempting to regain their vessel, the greater number, jumping into her, made off, leaving four or five of their companions in the hands of the British. These few threw down their arms and sang out for quarter. This was granted them, little as they deserved it. Meantime the rest of the pirates pulled away for the shore, and were soon concealed from view behind a wooded point.“See the cable ranged, to bring up, Mr Rogers,” was the first order given by the lieutenant.“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, but he found that he could not obey the order, as there were neither cables nor anchors on board. It was therefore necessary to keep the vessel under weigh, and to endeavour to beat down the river. Had the English known the channel, this might have been a more easy task than it was likely to prove. They were obliged to make very short tacks for fear of getting on shore, and in whatever reach they were the wind always seemed to head them, so that their progress, notwithstanding the strong current in their favour, was but slow. Their victory had not been gained without considerable loss: a marine had been killed, and three other men, besides Jack, had been wounded, two of them so badly that they were unable to help in working the vessel. This made Mr Evans not a little anxious, and he kept looking out ahead, in the hopes of seeing the other boat coming to his assistance. Jack also, who never failed to make good use of his eyes, was not altogether comfortable, for he had observed in the openings where he had before seen people, a much greater number, evidently keeping a watch on the movements of the schooner. As long as she could be kept moving, there was no great cause for fear; but should she get on the mud, it was difficult to say what might happen. Jack was stationed forward. At length the schooner entered a reach which ran nearly north and south, and the wind enabled her to lay nearly down it.“No sign of the boat yet, Mr Rogers?” sang out Mr Evans, from aft.“No, sir,” answered Jack; “but there are a number of dark objects in the water which look remarkably like canoes. They seem to be waiting for us at the end of the reach, where we must go about.”“We must run some of them down, and give the rest a taste of the pirate’s guns,” replied Mr Evans. The guns were got forward, but neither shot nor powder was to be found. Still undaunted, the seamen and marines stood ready to receive the expected attack. Things looked serious. Jack soon made out not less than twenty canoes full of men, with a couple of large boats so posted that it would be almost impossible to avoid them. The schooner was but a very little way from the junction of the two rivers, and the other boat might come to her assistance, but her best chance of escaping was by getting a strong breeze, so that she might dash past the fleet of canoes before they could manage to catch hold of her. There was a prospect of this. The wind had for some time been blowing in fitful gusts, and now it came down on them stronger than ever. To shorten sail was out of the question, but in another minute Jack and his companions found that they had more than the little vessel could well stagger under. That was all right though. On she flew towards their enemies.“Why, there is our boat among them,” exclaimed Jack; “she must have got down by some other channel. We shall have a hard tussle for it.” The critical moment was approaching. They could already see the faces of their enemies, and most villainous-looking ruffians they were. Many of them were blacks, but there were several white men among them.“Steady, my lads, now. Don’t throw a shot away till they attack us,” sang out Mr Evans. “Stand by to go about.” Down went the helm. The jib was shivering in the breeze. A loud shout arose from the canoes and boats, and, making a dash at the schooner, many of the villains began clambering up on each quarter. At that moment a violent gust coming down between an opening in the trees struck the vessel. It was not a moment to start sheet or tack. Every one, indeed, was engaged in the desperate conflict with their assailants. Jack was rushing forward to drive back some fellows who had just hooked on their canoe at the lee fore-chains. The marines were thrusting away with their bayonets. A huge mulatto had grasped Mr Evans by the throat, and several of the seamen were grappling with their opponents. Over heeled the vessel. Just as she was in midstream another gust, more furious than the first, struck her. In an instant Jack felt that she had gone over not to rise again. He scrambled up over the bulwarks into the weather-chains, where he hung on while the rest of the combatants, English, pirates and negroes, were precipitated into the rapidly running stream. Two or three of the canoes were swamped. Some of the blacks swam to the other canoes, and were picked up, but numbers of the combatants, grappling with each other, went down in the dark whirling stream, their shouts, cries, and struggles quieted only by the water which closed over their heads. Jack climbed up to the bottom of the vessel and looked around. His heart sank within him. Where were his late gallant comrades, Mr Evans and the rest? Not one remained. The capsized schooner was drifting rapidly down the stream.Jack, however, found that he was not alone; but he would gladly have dispensed with his companions. Two blacks had hung on by the rudder-chains, and now, as they climbed up, they caught sight of him. Their eyes flashed vindictively. They had their knives in their belts, but no other weapons. He had retained his grasp on his cutlass, and he had a pistol in his belt, but he feared that the priming must have got wet. The blacks began to creep slowly towards him. They grinned horribly, and were evidently intent on his destruction. Jack saw that he had not the slightest prospect of escape, and must depend entirely on his own exertions. He had no notion, however, of giving in.The schooner rapidly drifted away from the place where she upset, and none of the canoes were following her. Jack grasped firm hold of the keel of the vessel while he held his weapons in his hands ready for action. Fortunately the blacks could only move on by following each other. They shouted to him in fierce, rough tones, but what they said he could not understand. He was not alarmed, but he held his pistol very tight. The ruffian got close to him; Jack cocked and presented his pistol: if it missed he had his cutlass ready. The negro smiled or rather grinned. He thought the pistol would not go off. Jack pulled the trigger; the negro fell over and over down the side of the vessel into the water. He tried to swim and to regain his lost hold, but his strength failed him, and, with a cry of disappointed rage, he sank under the tide, a small circle of ruddy hue marking the spot where he had gone down.Jack had not, however, a moment to think about this; he had just time to grasp his cutlass in his right-hand, before his enemy made a spring on him. Jack was still only a boy, though a good stout one, but his nerves were well strung and his muscles were strong. He swung his cutlass round with all his might till the blade met the neck and shoulders of the black, and over he went into the water, where he at once sank, without even attempting to strike out for his life, indeed Jack’s blow had almost severed his head from his body. A very short time had been occupied in this encounter; still the schooner had drifted down some way, and neither the pirates nor their allies seemed inclined to follow her. Notwithstanding this, Jack’s position was far from a pleasant one. If the vessel drifted on to either bank of the river, he would probably be murdered, and if she continued in the stream, she would soon be among the heavy breakers on the bar, where he would, in all probability, be washed off and devoured by the sharks. With straining eyes he looked out for Hemming’s boat, but she was nowhere to be seen. He soon drifted past the channel up which she had gone: not a sign of her could he perceive.On drifted the schooner. The channel must be very deep, he knew, or the masts must have stuck in the bottom. Should this latter happen, he was afraid that the current gathering round her would speedily wash him off his hold. He felt very grave and sad, and though he was certainly not afraid, he could not help being aware that the life he had found so pleasant and so cheerful, and to which he had so many ties, was slipping away from him. The courage of an older man might well have given way. Jack sighed deeply, but his courage did not give way, for he said to himself, “God’s will be done.” In that feeling was his strength and support. “I am in God’s hand, He will preserve me if He thinks fit.”On drifted the schooner. The current, strengthened by the additional stream, grew more rapid. The vessel kept in mid-channel. He might have gained nothing had she verged on either side, unless he could have got near enough to catch hold of a stout branch of some mangrove bush, where he might have hung on to it till the boat came by, when, should anybody see him, he might be rescued, otherwise a lingering and painful death would be his lot, instead of the speedy one he had every reason to expect. The roar of the breakers on the bar sounded mournfully on his ears. He could see the white surf dancing less high above the sandbank, and he knew that in a few minutes he must be among those roaring, hissing, raging breakers. He thought that he could see the white sails of the brig in the offing, but she was much too far off to render him the slightest assistance. There was, he thought, one chance more. The current might set against the sandspit which crossed its course, and if so, he might be washed on shore. He watched eagerly to ascertain if any logs or branches floating down took that direction. There was nothing to give him assurance of this. For a minute he thought that she was going towards the spit, but the current again seized her, and whirling her round, sent her driving rapidly onwards towards the boiling breakers. Jack felt the wreck rise and fall. He clutched firmly hold of the keel, useless as he believed it to be. The foaming waters sounded in his ears, the foam washed over him, and he knew that he was on that terrible bar, in the midst of the raging breakers.

That naval officers do not idle away their time when at sea, on beds of roses, the adventures of my three old schoolfellows will, I think, convince all my readers. Who would have thought when we were together at dear old Eagle House, that they would, ere many years had gone over their heads, have actually crossed swords with real red-capped or turbaned Mahomedans, fought with true Greek romantic pirates, hunted down slavers, and explored African rivers with voracious sharks watching their mouths, hungry crocodiles basking in their slimy shallows, and veritable negroes inhabiting their banks; yet here were all the three, Alick Murray, Jack Rogers, and Terence Adair, collected on board Her Majesty’s brig of warArcher, commanded by Captain Grant. Alick had come out in the brig from England, the other two, after being shipwrecked, nearly drowned, murdered, and starved, eaten up by sharks, and having undergone I do not know how many other terrible dangers, had at last been picked up by theArcher, their own ship, theRangerfrigate, being they did not exactly know where. This last circumstance did not probably weigh very much with them. Midshipmen are not generally given to suffer from over anxiety from affairs terrestrial; but Rogers certainly did wish that he could let his family know that he was well, and picked up again, after having, as was supposed, gone down in a slaver the frigate had captured off the African coast. They were capital fellows, those three old friends of mine. Rogers was a good specimen of the Englishman—genus middy—so was Paddy Adair of Green Erin’s isle, full of fun and frolic; and a more gentlemanly, right-minded lad than Alick Murray Scotland never sent forth from her rich valleys or rugged mountains. He too was proud of Scotland, and ever jealous to uphold the name and fame of the land of his birth.

TheArcherwas a fine brig, and Captain Grant was a first-rate officer. When naval officers or seamen go on board ships of war they have to take their share of the duty with the rest of the crew; so Rogers and Adair found that they should have plenty of employment, even though they might not for some time be able to join their own ship. Captain Grant considered that idleness is the mother of all vice, so he took care that no one in his ship should be idle, and certainly he had the knack of making good seamen of all who sailed with him.

The midshipmen’s berth in theArcherwas a very happy place, because the occupants were, with few exceptions, gentlemanly, well-disposed, and, more than all, well and religiously educated young men. I do not mean to say by that, that they always acted with the wisdom and discretion of a bench of judges. Far from that. They were merry, light-hearted fellows, full of fun and frolic, but they could be grave, and treat serious things as they ought to be treated, with reverence and respect. Jack and Paddy quickly found themselves perfectly at home among them. TheArcherhad been standing off the coast of Africa under easy sail, when, just as the cold grey light of day stole over the waters, a vessel was seen inside of her, evidently making for a harbour in the neighbourhood. As the light increased, she was discovered to be a schooner.

“All hands make sail,” cried the officer of the watch, who had just made his report to the commander.

“All hands make sail,” echoed the boatswain, giving with his shrill pipe the well-known signal. “Tumble up there, tumble up there,” roared out the boatswain’s mates, with their gruff voices, to the sluggards who seemed inclined to stick in their hammocks.

In a few moments the watch below were rushing up on deck and flying to their stations, and then, as if by magic, the masts and yards of the brig were covered with the broad sheets of canvas which had been furled during the night. Topgallant-sails, royals, and studding-sails being set in rapid succession, away glided the brig with her head towards the land, through the calm, leaden-coloured water. Jack and Terence had with the rest sprung on deck, not taking many moments to slip into their clothes. Few landsmen can understand how quickly that operation can, by constant practice, be performed. They had there joined Alick, who had the morning watch. Together they all went aloft to take a look at the chase.

“She’s a slaver, from her evident wish to avoid us, and from the way she is standing,” observed Alick, after having taken a long look at her through his glass. “We may prevent her from embarking her slaves, and save the poor wretches the horrors to which they are always exposed, when once they get on board these iniquitous prison-ships. To look down on a slave-deck crowded with human beings, is quite sufficient to make a man abhor slavery for ever after, and to desire to put an end, with all his might, to the system which can produce such horrors.”

Jack and Adair agreed that they should have great satisfaction in capturing or destroying every slaver on the coast. The stranger soon discovered that the brig of war was in chase of her, and having crowded all sail, kept away directly for the land. From the wide spread of her white canvas, and from the way she had behaved, there was no doubt she was a slaver. Everybody felt certain that they should capture the stranger; theArcherwas undoubtedly overhauling her, and she could not escape either to the north or south without their perceiving her, and cutting her off. An hour’s chase brought them in sight of the land. It was a low, uninviting shore, lined with a dense belt of mangrove bushes, a few tall palms appearing here and there above them; then the ground rose slightly, with some ranges of blue hills in the distance. As the sun rose, a mist was drawn up which floated just above the water and shut out the lower branches of the mangrove-trees, though their tops, forming a wavy dark line, could just be seen above it. None of the officers of theArcherhad been on the coast before, and as she had no pilot, it was necessary to approach it with caution. The lead was therefore kept going. The schooner stood boldly on.

“The fellows will, I am afraid, run her on shore, if they can find no other means of escaping,” observed the captain, after scrutinising the chase and the coast she was approaching through his glass.

“We shall have her, she can’t escape us, that’s one comfort,” cried Jack Rogers.

On flew the schooner. The wind freshened somewhat. Suddenly she entered the belt of mist. Everybody on board the brig rubbed their eyes. Where was she? Not a vestige of her was to be seen. As they approached the land, the roar of the surf on the shore reached their ears. There could be little doubt that the schooner had been run on shore, and would probably soon be knocked to pieces, while her crew had made their escape to the land. Captain Grant was anxious to stand in as close as he could.

“By the deep nine,” sang out one of the men in the chains.

“By the mark seven,” soon repeated another.

To approach nearer would not have been prudent. The canvas was therefore flattened in, and the brig’s head was once more turned to seaward. Scarcely had she hauled her wind, than the sun having risen high above the land, the mist lifted, and the whole line of coast fringed with mangrove bushes, and here and there with a white belt of sand, appeared in sight. But the chase, where was she? Not a sign of her appeared on the shore, while neither to the north nor to the south was she to be seen. Jack looked at Adair, and Adair looked at Jack, and together they discussed the matter with Alick, but neither of the three could offer any satisfactory explanation of the matter. Captain Grant and the rest of the officers appeared equally puzzled. As the brig stood closer in-shore there was a chance of the mystery being solved. The hands in the chains were kept heaving the lead, which showed that the brig was slowly shoaling her water. At length she was hove-to, and two boats were lowered. Their own lieutenant, Hemming, who had escaped with them from a sinking slaver, volunteered to take charge of one of them, and Evans, the second lieutenant of the brig, went in the other. The former, as the senior officer, had charge of the expedition.

“As she cannot have escaped along shore, and certainly has not evaporated into the air, the chase must have got into some creek or inlet, the mouth of which we cannot distinguish,” observed the captain. “You will therefore search for such an entrance, and pursue, and bring her out if you can.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” answered Hemming, delighted with the work in prospect.

The three midshipmen got leave to go in the boat. Jack accompanied Evans, the other two went with Hemming, as did Jack’s old follower Dick Needham. Away they pulled in high spirits. As they approached the shore they observed that a long line of white surf was breaking heavily on it. Hemming stood up and scanned the coast narrowly, thinking that after all the schooner might have been run on shore, and as slavers are but slightly put together, might have speedily been knocked to pieces. As he stood up, and the boat rose to the top of the swell, he saw not what he expected, but a piece of clear water inside a narrow spit of sand, and a little to the south he observed a spot where the surf broke less heavily, and which he concluded was the entrance to the creek or river.

“I have little doubt that this must be the place where the schooner has taken refuge; and as she has gone up, so may we,” shouted Hemming, pointing it out to his brother officer.

Evans agreed with him, and the two boats pulled away in the direction indicated. That there was an entrance was evident, but it required great caution in approaching it. A capsize would probably prove fatal to all hands—for had any escaped drowning, they would have fallen a prey to the sharks, which in southern latitudes generally maintain a strict blockade at the mouths of rivers, to pick up any offal which the stream may bring down. The boats rose and fell on the smooth swells as they came rolling in. At last Hemming observed a space on the bar clear of broken water. He gave the signal to go ahead.

“Now, my lads, now pull away,” he shouted.

The boats dashed on, the surf roared and foamed on either side of them, and not only did the three midshipmen, but most of the older men in the boats, hold their breath till they were well through it, and once more floating in smooth water inside the bar. Instead of being in a mere creek, they found that they had entered a broad deep river which seemed to come down from a considerable distance in the interior. They pulled on more certain than before of finding the chase. However, after they had gone some distance, they arrived at a spot where the river formed two distinct branches, or, rather, it might be, where another broad stream joined the main current. Up which the schooner had proceeded it was impossible to say.

“I’ll take one stream, you take the other,” shouted Hemming to Evans; and the boats dashed on.

It was important to overtake the schooner before she got higher up, and perhaps hidden away in some narrow creek where it might be no easy matter to find her. The scenery was far from attractive. Little else on either side was to be seen but long lines of mangrove bushes, and as the tide fell black banks of mud began to appear, which it was evident would soon narrow the width of the stream. Evans and Jack took the branch of the stream which came from the southward. It wound about a good deal, so that they were aware they might any moment come on the schooner. They kept their muskets by their sides ready loaded.

“I say, Mr Evans, I wish that we could see the chase some time before we get up to her,” observed Jack. “What are we to do should we find her, sir?”

“Jump on board, and knock every fellow down who resists,” was the lieutenant’s answer. “Depend on it she is a slaver or pirate, probably both, and her crew will not give in without a tussle.”

“With the greatest pleasure in the world,” replied Jack, who was very practical in his notions about fighting, and had no idea of half measures.

The current was now making down very strong, and the boat consequently progressed but slowly. Still Mr Evans persevered. The men bent lustily to their oars, and reach after reach of the river was passed, but there was no sign of the chase. Now and then there were openings in the mangrove bushes, and more than once Jack felt certain that he saw some dark figures running along parallel with the river, and evidently watching their movements. Jack pointed them out to Mr Evans.

“That looks as if we had enemies in the neighbourhood,” observed the lieutenant. “Be ready, my men—marines, look to your arms.”

The boat pulled eight oars, and there were two marines in the bows, and two in the stern-sheets, sitting with their muskets between their knees. In the bows of the boat was a small swivel-gun, and all the bluejackets with cutlasses and pistols. Besides the lieutenant and Jack, there was the coxswain, and there were some half-dozen long pikes which, as the latter observed, would come in handy, if they had a fight with another boat or had to attack a fort, but for boarding he would not give a rush for them. The ebb-tide rushed past the boat dark and smooth, but with swirling eddies, which showed the strength of the current against which they had to contend.

“I wonder whether the other boat has fallen in with the slaver.”

“I envy them if they have,” observed Jack, who didn’t much like being silent just then.

There was something very oppressive in the atmosphere, and in the dark solemn scenery which surrounded them. The sea-breeze had by this time set in and blew up the river, but it had not yet been strong enough to make it worth while to hoist the sail.

“I scarcely think the schooner could have got up so far as this,” observed Mr Evans. “But we will pull on a little farther, and then if we do not see her, we will go back, and join the other boat.”

They had just then arrived at the end of a reach. The extent of the next one was hidden from their sight by a point of land thickly covered with trees. They pulled on, and soon doubled the point. Directly they did so there appeared before them, pressing up the stream, under all sail, the object of their search. The men required no urging, but, bending to their oars, away they pulled in hot chase after her. The schooner stood on steadily, as if no one on board was aware of the presence of the boat of a British man-of-war. The boat rapidly came up with her. As they drew near, Jack remarked that her decks were crowded with a very ill-looking set of ruffians, but he cared little for that, and he knew that every man in the boat would be ready to attack even twice as many as there were there. They had got up to within a hundred yards of the schooner without any notice being taken of them.

“Give way, my lads; we’ll be alongside in a moment,” shouted the lieutenant.

Scarcely had he uttered the words, when a couple of guns were ran out at the schooner’s stern ports, and a shower of langrage, nails, bits of iron, lead, and missiles of all sorts, came rattling among them, accompanied by a volley of musketry. One or two of the seamen and one of the marines were hit, but the boat pulled on as fast as before.

“Marines, give it the scoundrels,” cried Mr Evans. The red-jackets, turning round, deliberately picked off several of the people who had fired at them. They had scarcely time to load again before the boat was alongside the schooner, and the seamen, cutlass in hand, began to scramble up on her decks. Pikes were poked out at them, pistols were flashed in their faces, and cold shot hove into their boat, but fiercely as the pirates fought, they could not prevent the British seamen from gaining the deck of their vessel. Desperate was the struggle which took place there. Both parties fought for their lives. The English knew that they should receive no quarter. The pirates did not expect it either. Jack was soon knocked down, but he got up again with a somewhat ugly gash on his arm, and went at it as hard as ever. At length Mr Evans and his men gained the afterpart of the vessel, and were thus able to command her movements, but the pirates still clustered thickly in the bows, and were evidently preparing to make a rush aft. The English had left their boat, which was alongside, with her painter made fast to the fore-chains. This was an oversight. The pirates perceived it, hauled her ahead, and instead of attempting to regain their vessel, the greater number, jumping into her, made off, leaving four or five of their companions in the hands of the British. These few threw down their arms and sang out for quarter. This was granted them, little as they deserved it. Meantime the rest of the pirates pulled away for the shore, and were soon concealed from view behind a wooded point.

“See the cable ranged, to bring up, Mr Rogers,” was the first order given by the lieutenant.

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, but he found that he could not obey the order, as there were neither cables nor anchors on board. It was therefore necessary to keep the vessel under weigh, and to endeavour to beat down the river. Had the English known the channel, this might have been a more easy task than it was likely to prove. They were obliged to make very short tacks for fear of getting on shore, and in whatever reach they were the wind always seemed to head them, so that their progress, notwithstanding the strong current in their favour, was but slow. Their victory had not been gained without considerable loss: a marine had been killed, and three other men, besides Jack, had been wounded, two of them so badly that they were unable to help in working the vessel. This made Mr Evans not a little anxious, and he kept looking out ahead, in the hopes of seeing the other boat coming to his assistance. Jack also, who never failed to make good use of his eyes, was not altogether comfortable, for he had observed in the openings where he had before seen people, a much greater number, evidently keeping a watch on the movements of the schooner. As long as she could be kept moving, there was no great cause for fear; but should she get on the mud, it was difficult to say what might happen. Jack was stationed forward. At length the schooner entered a reach which ran nearly north and south, and the wind enabled her to lay nearly down it.

“No sign of the boat yet, Mr Rogers?” sang out Mr Evans, from aft.

“No, sir,” answered Jack; “but there are a number of dark objects in the water which look remarkably like canoes. They seem to be waiting for us at the end of the reach, where we must go about.”

“We must run some of them down, and give the rest a taste of the pirate’s guns,” replied Mr Evans. The guns were got forward, but neither shot nor powder was to be found. Still undaunted, the seamen and marines stood ready to receive the expected attack. Things looked serious. Jack soon made out not less than twenty canoes full of men, with a couple of large boats so posted that it would be almost impossible to avoid them. The schooner was but a very little way from the junction of the two rivers, and the other boat might come to her assistance, but her best chance of escaping was by getting a strong breeze, so that she might dash past the fleet of canoes before they could manage to catch hold of her. There was a prospect of this. The wind had for some time been blowing in fitful gusts, and now it came down on them stronger than ever. To shorten sail was out of the question, but in another minute Jack and his companions found that they had more than the little vessel could well stagger under. That was all right though. On she flew towards their enemies.

“Why, there is our boat among them,” exclaimed Jack; “she must have got down by some other channel. We shall have a hard tussle for it.” The critical moment was approaching. They could already see the faces of their enemies, and most villainous-looking ruffians they were. Many of them were blacks, but there were several white men among them.

“Steady, my lads, now. Don’t throw a shot away till they attack us,” sang out Mr Evans. “Stand by to go about.” Down went the helm. The jib was shivering in the breeze. A loud shout arose from the canoes and boats, and, making a dash at the schooner, many of the villains began clambering up on each quarter. At that moment a violent gust coming down between an opening in the trees struck the vessel. It was not a moment to start sheet or tack. Every one, indeed, was engaged in the desperate conflict with their assailants. Jack was rushing forward to drive back some fellows who had just hooked on their canoe at the lee fore-chains. The marines were thrusting away with their bayonets. A huge mulatto had grasped Mr Evans by the throat, and several of the seamen were grappling with their opponents. Over heeled the vessel. Just as she was in midstream another gust, more furious than the first, struck her. In an instant Jack felt that she had gone over not to rise again. He scrambled up over the bulwarks into the weather-chains, where he hung on while the rest of the combatants, English, pirates and negroes, were precipitated into the rapidly running stream. Two or three of the canoes were swamped. Some of the blacks swam to the other canoes, and were picked up, but numbers of the combatants, grappling with each other, went down in the dark whirling stream, their shouts, cries, and struggles quieted only by the water which closed over their heads. Jack climbed up to the bottom of the vessel and looked around. His heart sank within him. Where were his late gallant comrades, Mr Evans and the rest? Not one remained. The capsized schooner was drifting rapidly down the stream.

Jack, however, found that he was not alone; but he would gladly have dispensed with his companions. Two blacks had hung on by the rudder-chains, and now, as they climbed up, they caught sight of him. Their eyes flashed vindictively. They had their knives in their belts, but no other weapons. He had retained his grasp on his cutlass, and he had a pistol in his belt, but he feared that the priming must have got wet. The blacks began to creep slowly towards him. They grinned horribly, and were evidently intent on his destruction. Jack saw that he had not the slightest prospect of escape, and must depend entirely on his own exertions. He had no notion, however, of giving in.

The schooner rapidly drifted away from the place where she upset, and none of the canoes were following her. Jack grasped firm hold of the keel of the vessel while he held his weapons in his hands ready for action. Fortunately the blacks could only move on by following each other. They shouted to him in fierce, rough tones, but what they said he could not understand. He was not alarmed, but he held his pistol very tight. The ruffian got close to him; Jack cocked and presented his pistol: if it missed he had his cutlass ready. The negro smiled or rather grinned. He thought the pistol would not go off. Jack pulled the trigger; the negro fell over and over down the side of the vessel into the water. He tried to swim and to regain his lost hold, but his strength failed him, and, with a cry of disappointed rage, he sank under the tide, a small circle of ruddy hue marking the spot where he had gone down.

Jack had not, however, a moment to think about this; he had just time to grasp his cutlass in his right-hand, before his enemy made a spring on him. Jack was still only a boy, though a good stout one, but his nerves were well strung and his muscles were strong. He swung his cutlass round with all his might till the blade met the neck and shoulders of the black, and over he went into the water, where he at once sank, without even attempting to strike out for his life, indeed Jack’s blow had almost severed his head from his body. A very short time had been occupied in this encounter; still the schooner had drifted down some way, and neither the pirates nor their allies seemed inclined to follow her. Notwithstanding this, Jack’s position was far from a pleasant one. If the vessel drifted on to either bank of the river, he would probably be murdered, and if she continued in the stream, she would soon be among the heavy breakers on the bar, where he would, in all probability, be washed off and devoured by the sharks. With straining eyes he looked out for Hemming’s boat, but she was nowhere to be seen. He soon drifted past the channel up which she had gone: not a sign of her could he perceive.

On drifted the schooner. The channel must be very deep, he knew, or the masts must have stuck in the bottom. Should this latter happen, he was afraid that the current gathering round her would speedily wash him off his hold. He felt very grave and sad, and though he was certainly not afraid, he could not help being aware that the life he had found so pleasant and so cheerful, and to which he had so many ties, was slipping away from him. The courage of an older man might well have given way. Jack sighed deeply, but his courage did not give way, for he said to himself, “God’s will be done.” In that feeling was his strength and support. “I am in God’s hand, He will preserve me if He thinks fit.”

On drifted the schooner. The current, strengthened by the additional stream, grew more rapid. The vessel kept in mid-channel. He might have gained nothing had she verged on either side, unless he could have got near enough to catch hold of a stout branch of some mangrove bush, where he might have hung on to it till the boat came by, when, should anybody see him, he might be rescued, otherwise a lingering and painful death would be his lot, instead of the speedy one he had every reason to expect. The roar of the breakers on the bar sounded mournfully on his ears. He could see the white surf dancing less high above the sandbank, and he knew that in a few minutes he must be among those roaring, hissing, raging breakers. He thought that he could see the white sails of the brig in the offing, but she was much too far off to render him the slightest assistance. There was, he thought, one chance more. The current might set against the sandspit which crossed its course, and if so, he might be washed on shore. He watched eagerly to ascertain if any logs or branches floating down took that direction. There was nothing to give him assurance of this. For a minute he thought that she was going towards the spit, but the current again seized her, and whirling her round, sent her driving rapidly onwards towards the boiling breakers. Jack felt the wreck rise and fall. He clutched firmly hold of the keel, useless as he believed it to be. The foaming waters sounded in his ears, the foam washed over him, and he knew that he was on that terrible bar, in the midst of the raging breakers.

Chapter Twelve.Adventures on Shore.While Jack Rogers, with Lieutenant Evans and his unfortunate boat’s crew, took the southern branch of the river, Mr Hemming, with Murray and Adair, pulled away in the boat up the northern channel, each party believing that they were following the track of the schooner of which they were in search. On dashed Lieutenant Hemming’s boat, the crew, as British seamen always will when work is to be done, bending bravely to their oars. They also, as had the other boat, met a strong current.“Hurrah, my lads, hurrah!” shouted the lieutenant, bending forward almost mechanically to give time to their strokes. “If the chase has gone up the channel, we must take care that she does not creep away from us, that is all.”“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Dick Needham. “No fear but we’ll hunt her up if she is above water.”In a chase on shore some signs discernible either by the eyes or the olfactory nerves are perceptible by which the pursuers may be guided, but the gallant seamen had only hope on this occasion to lead them on. That, however, was enough. The scenery of this branch was as monotonous as that of the other. Mangrove bushes, with a few tall palms appearing over them, lined the banks, and here and there an opening left blank by nature, or perhaps made by the dark-skinned natives.“I wonder if, after all, the schooner did come up this way,” observed Paddy Adair sagaciously. “If she went up the other, I don’t think she could.”His remark of course produced a laugh. No great amount of wit was required to do that. They looked about in every direction, to discover some one from whom they might obtain information, but no one was seen.“It is not very likely the black fellows would trouble themselves with telling us the truth, so it doesn’t much matter,” said Paddy. “They are all in league with the slavers, from the king who dresses up on great occasions in a cocked-hat, top-boots, and an old blanket, to poor Quasho, who has never had his nakedness covered since he was born.”Notwithstanding their want of success, still they perseveringly pulled on.Suddenly Murray put his hand on Adair’s shoulder, pointing at the same time with the other ahead. “I say, Terence, what do you see away there at the end of the reach?” he asked. “Does it not look to you like the stern of a vessel?”“So like it that it must be one,” said Hemming. “Hurrah! the slaver must be ours after all.”Just at that moment the sound of firearms coming from a distance was heard, borne faintly on the wind through an opening in the mangrove bushes. Shot after shot followed. “The other boat must have fallen in with some of the rascals; the two channels cannot be far apart,” exclaimed Mr Hemming. “Give way, my lads, give way.”He could not help in his eagerness saying this, although the men were already pulling as hard as they could. He was eagerly looking about all the time for some passage through which they might get to the assistance of their comrades. The boat dashed on up the river, and very soon they came in sight of a schooner moored close to the bank of a small creek. They were quickly up to her and mounting her sides. No one opposed them, and not a human being was to be seen. There were, however, evident signs that people had only just left her. A stage of planks led from her deck to the shore. Her sails were bent, her anchor stowed, she was in perfect readiness for sea. A hurried glance below showed that she was undoubtedly a slaver, and about probably that very day to receive her human cargo on board. In her hold were leaguers or huge water-casks filled with water; a large supply of wood and provisions, especially of farina, on which slaves are chiefly fed. Then there was the slave-deck, scarcely thirty-six inches in height, and large coppers for boiling the slaves’ food, and some hundred pairs of slave irons or manacles for confining their legs or arms; indeed, nothing was wanting to condemn her. Although Hemming guessed that the crew would soon be back, he was so eager to go to the assistance of Mr Evans, that leaving Murray and a couple of men on board the schooner, he leaped again into his boat and pulled up the creek, thinking that he might get through it into the other channel. It narrowed, however, very rapidly. The trees grew closer and closer together till the branches touched, and finally arched so much overhead as to shut out the view of the sky. It was almost evident that there could not be a navigable passage into the other stream, and Hemming felt that he was not doing a prudent thing in thus pushing on into what might prove not only a hornets’ nest, but a hornets’ trap, where he and those whose lives were entrusted to him might be stung to death without the power of defending themselves. Still he did not like to abandon his purpose. To push over land would be still more dangerous. The question about proceeding was settled for him. The boat, although in mid-channel, ran her stem into the mud. With a falling tide it would have been madness to proceed farther.“Back all!” cried the lieutenant.There was barely room for the oars between the two banks. It seemed doubtful, at first, whether the boat could be shoved off. Delay in this case, as it is in many others, was dangerous. Paddy Adair and several of the men on this instantly leaped out, but sank very nearly up to their middles in slime and water. With their weight, however, out of her the boat floated, and the rest standing up and shoving at the same time, they got her a little way down the stream. Paddy, who was always ready to do anything, however unpleasant, for the sake of setting an example, continued in the water shoving the boat along; the black banks on either side showing the importance of getting out of the trap into which they had gone as quickly as possible.“Jump in Adair—jump in—she’ll freely swim now,” said Hemming.“We’ll just get her past this log of wood and give her a shove off from it,” said Paddy, making a spring on a dark brown object close to them. He jumped off again, however, very much faster, and sprang towards the boat, for the seeming log opened a huge pair of jaws, exhibiting a terrific row of teeth, with which it made a furious snap at the midshipman’s legs. Happily Mr Hemming, leaning over, caught him by the arm and dragged him in, while one of the men gave the monster a rap with the end of his oar, which somewhat distracted his attention, and allowed the rest of the men to scramble on board, which they did in a very great hurry, and no little consternation exhibited in their looks. The alligator first vented his rage by gnawing the blade of the oar, and then made a terrific rush at the boat.“Shove away, my lads—shove away,” cried Hemming, not wishing to waste time in a contest with the beast.The men, standing up, urged on the boat with their oars as fast as they could; but the savage brute still followed, biting at the blades and trying to get in between them. Terence, however, who very speedily recovered from his alarm, seized a musket, and, watching for the moment when the alligator next opened his huge mouth, fired right down it.“A hard pill that to digest, if it does not kill him,” cried Paddy, when he had done the deed.At first the brute seemed scarcely aware that anything unusual had gone down his throat; but, as he was making another dart at the boat, he suddenly began to move about in an eccentric way—as Paddy said, “as if something troubled him in his inside,” and then, turning away, buried his huge body in the mud, while his tail lashed the water into foam. Round the spot above where his head was probably hidden, a red circle was formed, which, whirling round in the eddies of the current, came sweeping past the boat, proving that Adair’s shot had not failed to take effect. Well content to get thus easily rid of their unpleasant antagonist, the men shaved the boat on rapidly down the creek. They had not quite come in sight of the slave schooner when a shout reached their ears. It was repeated. It sounded like a cry for help.“It is Murray’s voice, sir,” exclaimed Adair; “he is shouting to us; he is attacked, depend on it.”So Mr Hemming thought. The boat was got round, the men sprang into their seats, and, getting out their oars, dashed away down the stream. The sound of several pistol-shots reached their ears and increased their eagerness to get on. They soon came in sight of the schooner. Murray and his two companions were on her deck, and keeping at bay a dozen Spaniards and blacks, who were attempting to force their way across the platform. Several other people were coming up, and in another instant Murray and the two seamen would have been overpowered. Even when united the Englishmen were far outnumbered by the Spaniards and blacks. Murray heard the shout of his friends as they drew near, and it encouraged him to persevere in his hitherto almost hopeless defence of the prize. In another instant the boat dashed alongside. The crew quickly scrambled on board, and, whirling their cutlasses round their heads, with loud shouts they charged the enemy, and drove them off the platform.They next set to work to cut it away. They were not long about it. Not a moment was to be lost. More people were coming up, blacks and whites, armed with muskets. The warps which moored the vessel to the shore were speedily cut. Three hands jumped into the boat, and the end of a hawser being heaved to them, they towed round the schooner’s head—the current caught it and helped them. Meantime the topsails were loosed and the jib run up; a puff of wind also came down the creek. Away glided the schooner—the boat dropped alongside. The slave-dealers, now mustering strong, began firing at them. They fired in return, so as to drive the villains to seek shelter behind the trees. It might well have enraged the Spaniards to see their vessel carried away from before their very eyes. They did their best to revenge themselves by trying to pick off the Englishmen; but though two of the latter were slightly wounded, no one was disabled, and the schooner held her course unimpeded down the stream. Our friends found, however, before long, in one of the reaches, the wind heading them; and, looking astern, they saw that several large canoes and other boats had put out from the shore, and were in pursuit of them. The slavers probably calculated on their getting on shore, to enable them to come up with them. The current, however, was strong, the wind was tolerably steady, the schooner went about like a top, and a few tacks carried them through each of the reaches, when the wind headed them. Thus they made good way; but still there were many dangers to be encountered. They might, for the present, easily keep ahead of their pursuers; but, unless they could get a free wind, to cross the bar, they must bring up, as it would otherwise be madness to make the attempt. They had gone a long way up the river, and it was difficult to say how the wind might be at the mouth. At last, in a long reach, they ran the pirates out of sight. They, however, suspected that the latter were stopping to collect more of their forces before coming on to the attack. At length the schooner reached the main channel of the river. Hemming and Murray and Adair looked anxiously up the other stream in the hopes of seeing Mr Evans’ boat.“Perhaps she has come down, and will be waiting for us at the bar,” observed Hemming. “If she has got hold of the schooner we were looking for, we shall very likely find her ahead of us; at all events we must keep on till we find her.”The little vessel was accordingly kept on down the river. Great was their disappointment, on coming in sight of the bar, to find a heavy surf breaking over it, while the breeze which came in set very nearly up the stream. It was absolutely necessary to bring up. The anchor was dropped, and as the vessel swung to the tide the dark waters came whirling and eddying by with a force which made Hemming thankful that he had not attempted to cross the bar. As soon as he had brought up, he made every preparation for defending the vessel from the attack to be expected. Having got all their arms ready, he had ropes passed round and round the vessel above the bulwarks, so as to serve in the place of boarding-nettings, and then, not without great difficulty, they hoisted their own boat on board, and stowed her amidships. These important preparations being made, they lighted the fire in the caboose and cooked a dinner, for which an abundance of provisions was found on board. A couple of hours passed away. They were anxious ones to Hemming—so they were to Murray, and perhaps to Adair, though the men did not probably trouble themselves much about the matter. A constant lookout, however, was kept—up the river, lest the pirates should come on them unawares, and down the river, in the hopes of seeing the surf diminishing on the bar and the wind set more out of it. What could have become of Mr Evans, Rogers, and their party, was also the constant subject of conversation.“Hurrah!” at last cried Murray, who had been looking out astern, “the bar is getting quite smooth. See, there is scarcely any current passing us, and the wind is setting almost out of the river.”“And here come the canoes in battle-array,” cried Adair from forward. “They will be down upon us before many minutes are over.”“Heave up the anchor, my lads,” shouted Hemming; “let fall the topsails. Run up the jib and fore-staysail. Set the foresail and mainsail.” These orders followed in rapid succession. The men did not require to be told to be smart about the work. Round came the schooner’s head. Her sails filled, and, under complete command, she stood towards the bar. A clear piece of water showed the only passage she could take with safety. The slave-trader’s fleet of canoes came on, but they were just in time to be too late. The schooner stood on, and, well piloted, dashed through the dangerous passage; the surf boiling up still on either side, but not breaking on board her. In another minute she was over it, and floating free in the open ocean.The brig was at a considerable distance, in chase of a vessel in the offing; but there was no sign of the other boat, or of the schooner, which it was hoped she might have captured. Not knowing the sad fate of Mr Evans and his party, Murray and Adair were eagerly on the lookout for them. Occasionally they turned a glance astern to see what had become of their pursuers; but the pirates seemed to have considered it useless or too hazardous to attempt to cross the bar, and had given up the chase.“I say, Alick, what do you make out that dark object to be there?” exclaimed Adair, pointing to the southward. One after the other examined it through the glass.“It’s a whale or a ship’s bottom,” answered Murray, after a long scrutiny. They reported what they had seen to Hemming.“No whale is likely to have floated into these latitudes,” he remarked; “some vessel must have been capsized. Keep her away towards it.” The schooner, with a fair breeze, rapidly approached the object they had seen. It was soon ascertained that Hemming was right in his conjectures. They got close up to the wreck. There was no one on her! “By the set of the current here, I judge that she may have come over the very bar we have just crossed—not very long ago either,” observed Hemming, thoughtfully. Twice he sailed round the wreck, examining her narrowly. “I am afraid something has happened,” he observed at last; “I am not happy on the subject. It cannot be helped though. It may be the lot of any of us. Keep her up once more for the brig.”Alick and Terence became very sad when they heard these remarks. They scarcely liked to ask Hemming what he meant. As they talked over the matter, they felt very much alarmed on Jack’s account. Still they could not believe that he, their old friend and companion, could possibly be lost.“No, no, he’ll turn up somewhere, I’m sure,” cried Paddy.“I trust he will,” answered Alick, gravely; but he felt very sad and depressed in spirits.Hemming seemed doubtful what to do; whether he would across the bar, make a dash at the pirates, and run up the river and look for his friends, or stand on at once and get greater force from the brig. The latter was the wisest course, and he determined to follow it. TheArcherhad stood away in chase of another vessel of a suspicious appearance, and when night fell she was nowhere to be seen. Hemming, therefore, hove the schooner to, to wait till her return. Had he gone after her they might very probably, in the darkness of night, have missed each other.Never, perhaps, had my two old schoolfellows passed a more anxious night, even when they were wrecked on the coast of Greece; then the three friends were together; now their minds were racked with doubts of the most painful description as to what had become of Jack and his companions. Had they known of the destruction of the boat and her crew, they would, if possible, have been still more anxious.Hemming also kept pacing the deck all night long, looking out on every side, like a good officer, as he was, who felt that the lives of the people with him were entrusted to his care. He did not dread any attack from boats, but he knew that armed slavers might be attempting to run in or out of the river while the brig was away, and that if they attempted to molest him, he should find them very difficult customers to dispose of. Still he was not the man to allow a slaver to pass him without attempting to capture her, inferior as he might be to her in force. The night was very dark, now and then a few flashes of phosphorescent light played over the ocean, or were stirred up by the bows of the schooner, as she slowly worked her way through the water; but even the sharpest eyes on board could scarcely distinguish anything two or three hundred yards off. Terence and Alick could not bring themselves to lie down nor take any rest, even though Hemming urged them to do so. They were leaning together over the bulwarks. They neither of them could have said whether they were asleep or awake. The wind had dropped considerably, and at intervals the sails shook themselves and gave a loud flap against the masts. Terence felt a hand suddenly resting on his shoulder.“What is that? Do you hear a sound? Did you see anything?” said a voice in his ear.The voice appeared so deep and hollow and strange, that he did not at first discover that it was Murray speaking to him. Alick repeated the question twice before he replied. He had, in truth, been fast asleep, but he did not know it.“No—what? see, hear what? I don’t see anything,” was his somewhat incoherent answer.“There it is again; music—some one singing,” continued Alick. “Can you see nothing?”The two midshipmen peered eagerly out into the darkness, but nothing could they discern. They, however, drew Hemming’s attention to the circumstance. He had been walking the deck, so the noise of his own footsteps prevented him from hearing the sound. He now listened with them, but after some time, hearing nothing, was inclined to think that they had been deceived by their fancy. Murray thought not, and, keeping his eyes on the point from which he believed the sounds had come, was almost certain that he could distinguish the sails of a square-rigged vessel passing at no great distance off, standing in towards the coast. He called Hemming’s attention to it, but whether or not the night mists had at the moment he was looking lifted up, and again sunk down, and allowed him to see a vessel really there, or that his fancy still misled him, it was impossible to say. Certainly no sail was to be seen, nor was a sound again heard. Slowly the hours of that night seemed to pass away. Day came at last, a gloomy coast of Africa morning, with a thick damp ague-and-fever giving fog. In vain they looked out for theArcher. They began to fear that she might have followed the vessel after which she had gone in chase to a considerable distance, thus delaying the expedition they were so anxious to undertake in search of the other boat. As the sun rose, however, his rays began a struggle with the mist, and, aided by a light breeze which sprung up from the northward, finally triumphed, and rolling off their adversary, they beamed forth on the dancing blue waters, and on the white canvas of the brig, which came gliding on majestically towards them, followed by another vessel, which she had overtaken and captured. The prize had half a cargo of slaves on board, and was on her way up to another place where her owners had agents to complete it. The first question which Alick and Terence asked on getting on board theArcher, was for Rogers and the other boat’s crew. Their hearts sank within them, when they found that nothing had been seen of the boat. Captain Grant listened to all the information they could give, and promptly formed a plan, the execution of which he entrusted to Hemming and the two midshipmen, complimenting them at the same time for the gallant way in which they had captured the slaver and brought her out of the river.

While Jack Rogers, with Lieutenant Evans and his unfortunate boat’s crew, took the southern branch of the river, Mr Hemming, with Murray and Adair, pulled away in the boat up the northern channel, each party believing that they were following the track of the schooner of which they were in search. On dashed Lieutenant Hemming’s boat, the crew, as British seamen always will when work is to be done, bending bravely to their oars. They also, as had the other boat, met a strong current.

“Hurrah, my lads, hurrah!” shouted the lieutenant, bending forward almost mechanically to give time to their strokes. “If the chase has gone up the channel, we must take care that she does not creep away from us, that is all.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered Dick Needham. “No fear but we’ll hunt her up if she is above water.”

In a chase on shore some signs discernible either by the eyes or the olfactory nerves are perceptible by which the pursuers may be guided, but the gallant seamen had only hope on this occasion to lead them on. That, however, was enough. The scenery of this branch was as monotonous as that of the other. Mangrove bushes, with a few tall palms appearing over them, lined the banks, and here and there an opening left blank by nature, or perhaps made by the dark-skinned natives.

“I wonder if, after all, the schooner did come up this way,” observed Paddy Adair sagaciously. “If she went up the other, I don’t think she could.”

His remark of course produced a laugh. No great amount of wit was required to do that. They looked about in every direction, to discover some one from whom they might obtain information, but no one was seen.

“It is not very likely the black fellows would trouble themselves with telling us the truth, so it doesn’t much matter,” said Paddy. “They are all in league with the slavers, from the king who dresses up on great occasions in a cocked-hat, top-boots, and an old blanket, to poor Quasho, who has never had his nakedness covered since he was born.”

Notwithstanding their want of success, still they perseveringly pulled on.

Suddenly Murray put his hand on Adair’s shoulder, pointing at the same time with the other ahead. “I say, Terence, what do you see away there at the end of the reach?” he asked. “Does it not look to you like the stern of a vessel?”

“So like it that it must be one,” said Hemming. “Hurrah! the slaver must be ours after all.”

Just at that moment the sound of firearms coming from a distance was heard, borne faintly on the wind through an opening in the mangrove bushes. Shot after shot followed. “The other boat must have fallen in with some of the rascals; the two channels cannot be far apart,” exclaimed Mr Hemming. “Give way, my lads, give way.”

He could not help in his eagerness saying this, although the men were already pulling as hard as they could. He was eagerly looking about all the time for some passage through which they might get to the assistance of their comrades. The boat dashed on up the river, and very soon they came in sight of a schooner moored close to the bank of a small creek. They were quickly up to her and mounting her sides. No one opposed them, and not a human being was to be seen. There were, however, evident signs that people had only just left her. A stage of planks led from her deck to the shore. Her sails were bent, her anchor stowed, she was in perfect readiness for sea. A hurried glance below showed that she was undoubtedly a slaver, and about probably that very day to receive her human cargo on board. In her hold were leaguers or huge water-casks filled with water; a large supply of wood and provisions, especially of farina, on which slaves are chiefly fed. Then there was the slave-deck, scarcely thirty-six inches in height, and large coppers for boiling the slaves’ food, and some hundred pairs of slave irons or manacles for confining their legs or arms; indeed, nothing was wanting to condemn her. Although Hemming guessed that the crew would soon be back, he was so eager to go to the assistance of Mr Evans, that leaving Murray and a couple of men on board the schooner, he leaped again into his boat and pulled up the creek, thinking that he might get through it into the other channel. It narrowed, however, very rapidly. The trees grew closer and closer together till the branches touched, and finally arched so much overhead as to shut out the view of the sky. It was almost evident that there could not be a navigable passage into the other stream, and Hemming felt that he was not doing a prudent thing in thus pushing on into what might prove not only a hornets’ nest, but a hornets’ trap, where he and those whose lives were entrusted to him might be stung to death without the power of defending themselves. Still he did not like to abandon his purpose. To push over land would be still more dangerous. The question about proceeding was settled for him. The boat, although in mid-channel, ran her stem into the mud. With a falling tide it would have been madness to proceed farther.

“Back all!” cried the lieutenant.

There was barely room for the oars between the two banks. It seemed doubtful, at first, whether the boat could be shoved off. Delay in this case, as it is in many others, was dangerous. Paddy Adair and several of the men on this instantly leaped out, but sank very nearly up to their middles in slime and water. With their weight, however, out of her the boat floated, and the rest standing up and shoving at the same time, they got her a little way down the stream. Paddy, who was always ready to do anything, however unpleasant, for the sake of setting an example, continued in the water shoving the boat along; the black banks on either side showing the importance of getting out of the trap into which they had gone as quickly as possible.

“Jump in Adair—jump in—she’ll freely swim now,” said Hemming.

“We’ll just get her past this log of wood and give her a shove off from it,” said Paddy, making a spring on a dark brown object close to them. He jumped off again, however, very much faster, and sprang towards the boat, for the seeming log opened a huge pair of jaws, exhibiting a terrific row of teeth, with which it made a furious snap at the midshipman’s legs. Happily Mr Hemming, leaning over, caught him by the arm and dragged him in, while one of the men gave the monster a rap with the end of his oar, which somewhat distracted his attention, and allowed the rest of the men to scramble on board, which they did in a very great hurry, and no little consternation exhibited in their looks. The alligator first vented his rage by gnawing the blade of the oar, and then made a terrific rush at the boat.

“Shove away, my lads—shove away,” cried Hemming, not wishing to waste time in a contest with the beast.

The men, standing up, urged on the boat with their oars as fast as they could; but the savage brute still followed, biting at the blades and trying to get in between them. Terence, however, who very speedily recovered from his alarm, seized a musket, and, watching for the moment when the alligator next opened his huge mouth, fired right down it.

“A hard pill that to digest, if it does not kill him,” cried Paddy, when he had done the deed.

At first the brute seemed scarcely aware that anything unusual had gone down his throat; but, as he was making another dart at the boat, he suddenly began to move about in an eccentric way—as Paddy said, “as if something troubled him in his inside,” and then, turning away, buried his huge body in the mud, while his tail lashed the water into foam. Round the spot above where his head was probably hidden, a red circle was formed, which, whirling round in the eddies of the current, came sweeping past the boat, proving that Adair’s shot had not failed to take effect. Well content to get thus easily rid of their unpleasant antagonist, the men shaved the boat on rapidly down the creek. They had not quite come in sight of the slave schooner when a shout reached their ears. It was repeated. It sounded like a cry for help.

“It is Murray’s voice, sir,” exclaimed Adair; “he is shouting to us; he is attacked, depend on it.”

So Mr Hemming thought. The boat was got round, the men sprang into their seats, and, getting out their oars, dashed away down the stream. The sound of several pistol-shots reached their ears and increased their eagerness to get on. They soon came in sight of the schooner. Murray and his two companions were on her deck, and keeping at bay a dozen Spaniards and blacks, who were attempting to force their way across the platform. Several other people were coming up, and in another instant Murray and the two seamen would have been overpowered. Even when united the Englishmen were far outnumbered by the Spaniards and blacks. Murray heard the shout of his friends as they drew near, and it encouraged him to persevere in his hitherto almost hopeless defence of the prize. In another instant the boat dashed alongside. The crew quickly scrambled on board, and, whirling their cutlasses round their heads, with loud shouts they charged the enemy, and drove them off the platform.

They next set to work to cut it away. They were not long about it. Not a moment was to be lost. More people were coming up, blacks and whites, armed with muskets. The warps which moored the vessel to the shore were speedily cut. Three hands jumped into the boat, and the end of a hawser being heaved to them, they towed round the schooner’s head—the current caught it and helped them. Meantime the topsails were loosed and the jib run up; a puff of wind also came down the creek. Away glided the schooner—the boat dropped alongside. The slave-dealers, now mustering strong, began firing at them. They fired in return, so as to drive the villains to seek shelter behind the trees. It might well have enraged the Spaniards to see their vessel carried away from before their very eyes. They did their best to revenge themselves by trying to pick off the Englishmen; but though two of the latter were slightly wounded, no one was disabled, and the schooner held her course unimpeded down the stream. Our friends found, however, before long, in one of the reaches, the wind heading them; and, looking astern, they saw that several large canoes and other boats had put out from the shore, and were in pursuit of them. The slavers probably calculated on their getting on shore, to enable them to come up with them. The current, however, was strong, the wind was tolerably steady, the schooner went about like a top, and a few tacks carried them through each of the reaches, when the wind headed them. Thus they made good way; but still there were many dangers to be encountered. They might, for the present, easily keep ahead of their pursuers; but, unless they could get a free wind, to cross the bar, they must bring up, as it would otherwise be madness to make the attempt. They had gone a long way up the river, and it was difficult to say how the wind might be at the mouth. At last, in a long reach, they ran the pirates out of sight. They, however, suspected that the latter were stopping to collect more of their forces before coming on to the attack. At length the schooner reached the main channel of the river. Hemming and Murray and Adair looked anxiously up the other stream in the hopes of seeing Mr Evans’ boat.

“Perhaps she has come down, and will be waiting for us at the bar,” observed Hemming. “If she has got hold of the schooner we were looking for, we shall very likely find her ahead of us; at all events we must keep on till we find her.”

The little vessel was accordingly kept on down the river. Great was their disappointment, on coming in sight of the bar, to find a heavy surf breaking over it, while the breeze which came in set very nearly up the stream. It was absolutely necessary to bring up. The anchor was dropped, and as the vessel swung to the tide the dark waters came whirling and eddying by with a force which made Hemming thankful that he had not attempted to cross the bar. As soon as he had brought up, he made every preparation for defending the vessel from the attack to be expected. Having got all their arms ready, he had ropes passed round and round the vessel above the bulwarks, so as to serve in the place of boarding-nettings, and then, not without great difficulty, they hoisted their own boat on board, and stowed her amidships. These important preparations being made, they lighted the fire in the caboose and cooked a dinner, for which an abundance of provisions was found on board. A couple of hours passed away. They were anxious ones to Hemming—so they were to Murray, and perhaps to Adair, though the men did not probably trouble themselves much about the matter. A constant lookout, however, was kept—up the river, lest the pirates should come on them unawares, and down the river, in the hopes of seeing the surf diminishing on the bar and the wind set more out of it. What could have become of Mr Evans, Rogers, and their party, was also the constant subject of conversation.

“Hurrah!” at last cried Murray, who had been looking out astern, “the bar is getting quite smooth. See, there is scarcely any current passing us, and the wind is setting almost out of the river.”

“And here come the canoes in battle-array,” cried Adair from forward. “They will be down upon us before many minutes are over.”

“Heave up the anchor, my lads,” shouted Hemming; “let fall the topsails. Run up the jib and fore-staysail. Set the foresail and mainsail.” These orders followed in rapid succession. The men did not require to be told to be smart about the work. Round came the schooner’s head. Her sails filled, and, under complete command, she stood towards the bar. A clear piece of water showed the only passage she could take with safety. The slave-trader’s fleet of canoes came on, but they were just in time to be too late. The schooner stood on, and, well piloted, dashed through the dangerous passage; the surf boiling up still on either side, but not breaking on board her. In another minute she was over it, and floating free in the open ocean.

The brig was at a considerable distance, in chase of a vessel in the offing; but there was no sign of the other boat, or of the schooner, which it was hoped she might have captured. Not knowing the sad fate of Mr Evans and his party, Murray and Adair were eagerly on the lookout for them. Occasionally they turned a glance astern to see what had become of their pursuers; but the pirates seemed to have considered it useless or too hazardous to attempt to cross the bar, and had given up the chase.

“I say, Alick, what do you make out that dark object to be there?” exclaimed Adair, pointing to the southward. One after the other examined it through the glass.

“It’s a whale or a ship’s bottom,” answered Murray, after a long scrutiny. They reported what they had seen to Hemming.

“No whale is likely to have floated into these latitudes,” he remarked; “some vessel must have been capsized. Keep her away towards it.” The schooner, with a fair breeze, rapidly approached the object they had seen. It was soon ascertained that Hemming was right in his conjectures. They got close up to the wreck. There was no one on her! “By the set of the current here, I judge that she may have come over the very bar we have just crossed—not very long ago either,” observed Hemming, thoughtfully. Twice he sailed round the wreck, examining her narrowly. “I am afraid something has happened,” he observed at last; “I am not happy on the subject. It cannot be helped though. It may be the lot of any of us. Keep her up once more for the brig.”

Alick and Terence became very sad when they heard these remarks. They scarcely liked to ask Hemming what he meant. As they talked over the matter, they felt very much alarmed on Jack’s account. Still they could not believe that he, their old friend and companion, could possibly be lost.

“No, no, he’ll turn up somewhere, I’m sure,” cried Paddy.

“I trust he will,” answered Alick, gravely; but he felt very sad and depressed in spirits.

Hemming seemed doubtful what to do; whether he would across the bar, make a dash at the pirates, and run up the river and look for his friends, or stand on at once and get greater force from the brig. The latter was the wisest course, and he determined to follow it. TheArcherhad stood away in chase of another vessel of a suspicious appearance, and when night fell she was nowhere to be seen. Hemming, therefore, hove the schooner to, to wait till her return. Had he gone after her they might very probably, in the darkness of night, have missed each other.

Never, perhaps, had my two old schoolfellows passed a more anxious night, even when they were wrecked on the coast of Greece; then the three friends were together; now their minds were racked with doubts of the most painful description as to what had become of Jack and his companions. Had they known of the destruction of the boat and her crew, they would, if possible, have been still more anxious.

Hemming also kept pacing the deck all night long, looking out on every side, like a good officer, as he was, who felt that the lives of the people with him were entrusted to his care. He did not dread any attack from boats, but he knew that armed slavers might be attempting to run in or out of the river while the brig was away, and that if they attempted to molest him, he should find them very difficult customers to dispose of. Still he was not the man to allow a slaver to pass him without attempting to capture her, inferior as he might be to her in force. The night was very dark, now and then a few flashes of phosphorescent light played over the ocean, or were stirred up by the bows of the schooner, as she slowly worked her way through the water; but even the sharpest eyes on board could scarcely distinguish anything two or three hundred yards off. Terence and Alick could not bring themselves to lie down nor take any rest, even though Hemming urged them to do so. They were leaning together over the bulwarks. They neither of them could have said whether they were asleep or awake. The wind had dropped considerably, and at intervals the sails shook themselves and gave a loud flap against the masts. Terence felt a hand suddenly resting on his shoulder.

“What is that? Do you hear a sound? Did you see anything?” said a voice in his ear.

The voice appeared so deep and hollow and strange, that he did not at first discover that it was Murray speaking to him. Alick repeated the question twice before he replied. He had, in truth, been fast asleep, but he did not know it.

“No—what? see, hear what? I don’t see anything,” was his somewhat incoherent answer.

“There it is again; music—some one singing,” continued Alick. “Can you see nothing?”

The two midshipmen peered eagerly out into the darkness, but nothing could they discern. They, however, drew Hemming’s attention to the circumstance. He had been walking the deck, so the noise of his own footsteps prevented him from hearing the sound. He now listened with them, but after some time, hearing nothing, was inclined to think that they had been deceived by their fancy. Murray thought not, and, keeping his eyes on the point from which he believed the sounds had come, was almost certain that he could distinguish the sails of a square-rigged vessel passing at no great distance off, standing in towards the coast. He called Hemming’s attention to it, but whether or not the night mists had at the moment he was looking lifted up, and again sunk down, and allowed him to see a vessel really there, or that his fancy still misled him, it was impossible to say. Certainly no sail was to be seen, nor was a sound again heard. Slowly the hours of that night seemed to pass away. Day came at last, a gloomy coast of Africa morning, with a thick damp ague-and-fever giving fog. In vain they looked out for theArcher. They began to fear that she might have followed the vessel after which she had gone in chase to a considerable distance, thus delaying the expedition they were so anxious to undertake in search of the other boat. As the sun rose, however, his rays began a struggle with the mist, and, aided by a light breeze which sprung up from the northward, finally triumphed, and rolling off their adversary, they beamed forth on the dancing blue waters, and on the white canvas of the brig, which came gliding on majestically towards them, followed by another vessel, which she had overtaken and captured. The prize had half a cargo of slaves on board, and was on her way up to another place where her owners had agents to complete it. The first question which Alick and Terence asked on getting on board theArcher, was for Rogers and the other boat’s crew. Their hearts sank within them, when they found that nothing had been seen of the boat. Captain Grant listened to all the information they could give, and promptly formed a plan, the execution of which he entrusted to Hemming and the two midshipmen, complimenting them at the same time for the gallant way in which they had captured the slaver and brought her out of the river.

Chapter Thirteen.To fight his Friends.Poor Jack Rogers! His lot was indeed a hard one. We left him clinging to the keel of the schooner, while she was carried on by the rapid current over the bar, amidst the raging waters and blinding foam. Every moment he expected to be torn from his hold; but life was dear to him, and he exerted every particle of strength he possessed to hold on. Now a sea would come and wash over the vessel, almost drowning him, and completely preventing him from seeing; then he felt that he was whirled round and round, till he looked up—but it was only to see another huge breaker rolling up ready to overwhelm him. He felt the terrific dash of the wave, its roar sounded in his ears—he was almost stunned. He prayed that he might be preserved from the terrible danger to which he was exposed. The roller passed on, leaving him still firmly clutching the wreck. Again he looked up. The blue sea danced cheerfully before his eyes; the sun shone brightly; the wreck had drifted clear of the influence of the breakers. Most grateful he felt at having been thus far preserved. Still he knew that he was not out of danger. The schooner might any moment go down, and he might be left, without a plank to rest on, to the mercy of the ravenous sharks which swarmed around. His first impulse was to look out for the brig. She was in the offing, standing away to the westward. He had no hope from any help she could render him. Then he looked back over the bar, in the expectation of seeing the other boat coming out; but nowhere was she to be discovered. He saw, meantime, that the wreck was drifting to the southward down the coast, and at no great distance from it. He calculated the distance, and thought to himself that he could swim on shore. If he delayed, the vessel might drift farther out to sea, and the feat might be impossible.“The sooner it is done, the better,” he thought to himself. “I have swum as far in a worse sea before now.” Before slipping off into the water, he commended himself with a hearty prayer to the care of a Merciful Providence. He was on the very point of letting go his hold, when, as he looked into the water, his eye fell on a dark triangular object, just rising out of it, slowly moving past. He looked again with a shudder, for he recognised the fin of a shark. Another and another passed by. Truly thankful did he feel that he had not trusted himself voluntarily within the power of their voracious jaws. If the vessel sank though, where would he be? He could not help thinking of that. He got up and gazed around. He was beginning to feel very hungry, and to his other dangers the risk of starvation was now added. Still, he did not allow himself to despair. He hoped that his old schoolfellows and Hemming would soon recross the bar, and, seeing the wreck, come and find him. After a little time, as he was casting his eye to the southward, he thought he saw a dark object moving along close in-shore, just outside the surf. He soon made out that it was a canoe, and then that she was manned by blacks. As they drew near, it was evident that they saw him on the wreck, for they at once pulled towards him. He scarcely knew whether to hail them as friends or foes. They were very ill-looking fellows he thought. There were also two white men in the stern-sheets of the canoe. He did not like their looks at all either. They were soon alongside, and when they saw his uniform, they looked up at him with no very friendly eye. Having held a short parley among themselves, they hailed him, but what they said he could not make out. Dangerous as his present position was, he felt no inclination to entrust himself to their care. However, they made signs to him to come down into the canoe, and after a little reflection, and thinking it better not to show any fear or mistrust of them, he complied with their demands, and as he slid down over the side of the vessel, they caught him, and hauled him in. He saw them minutely examining the vessel, and then they asked him a number of questions in Spanish, or a sort of mongrel Spanish, which he could not clearly comprehend, and he thought it more prudent not to show that he understood them at all. He made out, however, that the strangers were inquiring how the vessel was capsized, and how he came to be on board her. He guessed also that they knew that she was a slaver, and had been captured by the party to which he had belonged. When they found that he did not reply to their questions, they let him sit down at the bottom of the canoe, while the two whites and one of the black men talked together among themselves. They every now and then cast glances ominous of evil intentions towards him. Poor Jack did not at all like their looks, still less the tenor of the few words whose meaning he caught. “Knock him on the head at once,” said one. “Throw him overboard, and let the sharks have him,” proposed another. “Shoot him with pistol,” quoth the big negro,—grinning horribly. These words were uttered with the most cold-blooded indifference, as if the act proposed by the speakers was one of everyday occurrence with them. Jack, as he listened, longed to make an effort to save his life; anything was better than to sit there quietly and be murdered. Far rather would he die struggling bravely for existence. Still, as the pirates did not make any further demonstration, he thought it would be wiser to appear unconscious of their threats, and remained where he was without moving. Jack, however, every now and then, looked over the gunwale of the canoe, to ascertain where they were going. They quickly arrived off the bar, but the slave-dealers or pirates, or whatever they were, seemed to think that there was too much surf to allow them to cross it. They therefore pulled back a little way to the south. Jack observed a patch of sandy beach, with a clear channel up to it, between two rocks. They waited for a short time, and then the canoe, mounting on the top of a roller, was carried rapidly forward, the foam hissing and bubbling round her, till she grounded on the beach. In a moment the crew, jumping out of her, ran her up out of the reach of the succeeding roller, which roared angrily, as if disappointed of its prey. Jack was going to walk on, but he felt a hand laid heavily on his shoulder, and his arms, being seized by two of the black fellows, were bound behind him, and he found himself a prisoner on the coast of Africa, without the slightest prospect, as far as he could see, of making his escape from his ruffian captors.Poor Jack was dragged along by his savage companions, the muzzle of a pistol or the point of a long knife every now and then being shown him, as a hint that he must keep up his spirits and move on. This was no easy matter without stumbling, for the ground was strewed with decayed timber, while creepers and parasitical plants of numerous species formed traps to catch his feet. He saw, too, the grass frequently moving, as a hideous snake or some other reptile crept away among it. Overhead were birds of every variety, and of the richest plumage; parrots, trumpet birds, pigeons, whydahs, green paroquets, and numberless others, which he was in no humour just then to admire, while monkeys of all sorts skipped about among the boughs of the lofty palms, and chattered away, as if to inquire where the stranger had come from. In one or two openings between the giant palms, bananas, and other lofty trees, Jack caught sight of some blue ranges of mountains in the far distance, and towards them, as they pushed their way through the dense underwood, his captors seemed to be proceeding. The dreadful thought occurred to him, that he was being carried off into the interior to be turned into a slave, and perhaps that he should never be able to make his escape. The jungle grew thicker and thicker, and the forest more gloomy as they proceeded, till he could scarcely work his way along, and even the Spaniards and blacks, with their arms at liberty, had no little difficulty in making progress through it. At last they came to a standstill, and a talk among themselves. Poor Jack caught the very ominous words, “mata el chico,” which he knew too well meant “kill the little chap.”“He is not worth the trouble he costs us,” added the ferocious Spaniard who had spoken. “This knife of mine will settle him with a blow.”“It is a pity we did not do it in the canoe, and save ourselves trouble,” growled out his companion, drawing his long knife from his belt.Jack felt that his last moments had come. He, however, eyed his captors boldly, and tried to nerve himself for the expected stroke. A short time before, some villains of the same character as those into whose power he had fallen had murdered a young midshipman, whom they had found on board a prize they had retaken, and he knew that they would have no scruple about killing him. The blacks stood by, enjoying, apparently, his agony; for, brave as he was, it was a bitter thing thus, without cause, to be cruelly murdered in cold blood. No one spoke. Jack tried to offer up a prayer to Heaven, but, at such a moment, even to pray was difficult. His heart, though, was praying, and One who knows what is in the heart heard him. Suddenly there was a rustling of leaves, a crashing of boughs. A loud shriek was uttered, and a huge animal leaped through the brushwood, and, seizing one of the negroes, again bounded off into the thicket. The unfortunate wretch cried out piteously for help. The Spaniards and the negroes turned to pursue the wild beast. From the glimpse Jack had of it, he believed it to be a tiger. The negro who had been seized was the smallest of the party, and of light weight; and the savage brute was more accustomed to make his way through the tangled underwood than were his pursuers. On he went, bounding through the thicket, his miserable victim in vain crying for assistance. The rest pursued as fast as they could, apparently forgetting Jack altogether. They were soon hid from his sight by the trees. He had no wish to follow them, even had he possessed the power of so doing. His arms were bound, and before he could do anything he must contrive to get them loose. He tugged and tugged away frantically. He was afraid his captors would be back before he could get free, and execute their murderous threats. By what means he was to escape, he could not just then tell. The first thing was to obtain the use of his limbs. He worked away for life and death.At last he twisted the rope round so that he could reach one of the knots with his teeth. He pulled away lustily. He found that he was slackening it. He listened for the shouts and cries of the pirates. He thought that their voices sounded louder and nearer again. He was every moment getting the ropes looser. One more tug, and his hands were at liberty. He struck out on either side to assure himself that he had the free use of them. He looked round; no one was in sight. His first impulse was to set off and run back to the coast, but then he recollected that he might be easily pursued, that it must be seven or eight miles off at least, as three or four hours had passed since he and his captors had left it. After a moment’s reflection he determined to find his way as soon as possible to the banks of the river. He was certain that the boats would be sent in to look for his party, and, by watching for them, he hoped to be able to make some signal to call their attention to himself. He still heard the voices of the pirates. A tall palm-tree was near. He thought that the safest plan would be to get to the top of it. He could easily hide himself among the wide-spreading leaves, and the Spaniards, believing that his arms were bound, would never think of looking there for him. He would also have the advantage of watching all that was going on below. He had seen blacks climb a tree with a band partly round their stem and partly round their waists. The rope he had just got clear of his arms would help him up in the same way. He rapidly fitted it, and, with knees and hands working away, up he went the smooth stem. He had got nearly to the top, when he heard a chattering, and looking up, he saw a very ugly face grinning down upon him. An ape had previous possession of his proposed stronghold. He was not to be daunted, however, but, swinging himself up on the bough, prepared to do battle for its possession. He had still a pistol in his belt, though it was not loaded. The pirates had forgotten to deprive him of it. He held it by the muzzle, and Master Quacko, who seemed to be a very sensible monkey, thought that it would be foolish to pick a quarrel with so well-armed a stranger. As Jack advanced, he retreated, till Jack reached the centre of the tree, where he could coil himself away without the possibility of any one below discovering him. He looked round before sitting down. Below him was a dense mass of foliage, with only here and there an opening. To the west, in the far distance, was the sea, looking bright and blue; to the east were ranges of mountains, the most remote evidently of considerable elevation; while to the north he caught a glimpse of the river, to his great satisfaction, not very far off. He could still hear the voices of the pirates, but he could not discover whether they had succeeded in rescuing the wretched negro from the fangs of the tiger. Meantime the monkey sat on the farther end of a branch watching him.“I hope you have formed a favourable opinion of me, Master Quacko,” he said, looking at the ape, for even in the dangerous predicament in which he was placed he could not resist a joke.“Quacko, quacko, quacko,” went the monkey, in a tone which Jack thought was friendly.He felt about in his pockets, and found a piece of biscuit. He nibbled a bit, and then held it out to his companion. The ape drew near, at first, hesitatingly; Jack nibbled a little more of the biscuit. Quacko thought that it would all be gone if he did not make haste, so he made one or two more hops up towards Jack. Jack nibbled away, then once more held out the biscuit. The monkey made one spring, and nearly caught it, but Jack drew it back, that the animal might feel that it was given him. Then he held it out, and the ape took it quite gently, but ran off to the end of a bough, that he might examine this new sort of food, and eat it at his leisure.The pirates had now found their way back to where they had left Jack. He could plainly hear them asking one another what could have become of him. They were under the tree in which he lay so snugly ensconced.“He must have hid himself in the brushwood; he cannot be far off,” said one.“If he had had his hands at liberty, I should say he would have got up one of these trees,” observed another. “Those English sailors can climb anything. I have seen them go up the side of a slippery rock without a hole in which to stick their nails.”“He cannot be up this tree,” remarked the first. “See! there is a monkey quietly eating a nut on one of the branches. There is no other tree near in which he could hide.”After this the men hunted about on every side, and Jack hoped that they would then go away.“He must still be near,” exclaimed one of them. “Sancho, do you climb that tree and look about you. You will soon find out where he is by the shaking of the bushes as he moves along. Up! man, up!”Jack knew, by the voice which replied, that one of the negroes was climbing up. The monkey had finished his biscuit, and, liking it very much, came back for some more, not observing what was occurring below. Jack had now won his confidence; and by giving him a very little bit at a time kept the animal close to him. Up climbed the black. Jack knew that he could knock him down again with the butt end of his pistol, but if he did he would only hasten his own destruction, as the others would quickly find means to get hold of him. He felt that the black was close under him. He caught sight of his woolly pate working its way through, the leaves. “Now or never,” thought Jack. He seized the unsuspecting ape, and threw him down directly on the negro’s head. The monkey, as much astonished as anybody, laid hold of the woolly crop with his claws, and scratched and bit, chattering away with all his might.“Fetish! fetish! fetish!” screamed out the negro, sliding down the tree a great deal faster than he had come up, coming down the latter part by the run, and reaching the ground more dead than alive; while the monkey clambered up again, and, not daring to approach Jack, took his seat at the end of a bough, chattering away in the greatest state of agitation.Jack lay snug. He had hopes that none of the other blacks would attempt to climb the tree after the reception their companion had met with; and from what he heard them say he had great hopes that they really believed they had seen a fetish. The Spaniards too, though pretending to laugh at the superstition of the negroes, having no real religion of their own to supply its place, were very strongly impressed with the black man’s superstition, and would on no account have attempted to climb up the tree. Jack therefore began to hope that he should escape from his intending murderers, and he did not despair of ultimately getting back to his ship.In a short time the Spaniards and negroes, uttering loud oaths at their ill luck in having lost one of their companions as well as their captive, set off once more; and Jack watched them as they worked their way through the brushwood to the eastward. He felt truly glad when they were no longer to be seen. He was now also in a hurry to be off. “Good-bye, Mr Quacko,” said he, turning to the monkey, and making him a profound bow, for Jack was the pink of politeness. “I am much obliged to you for the accommodation your tree has afforded me, and for the assistance you have rendered me, and if you will ever venture afloat I shall be very happy to see you on board our ship. Good-bye, old fellow, give us a paw.” He felt in a curiously excited state, and ready to talk any nonsense. Quacko, who thought he was to have some more biscuit, came near, but when he saw that there was none he hopped off again and chattered away louder than ever.Jack now descended in the same way that he had got up. His first care was to cut a thick stick to serve as a weapon of defence, for he thought to himself, “If the tigers about here are so bold as to carry off a black man, they are just as likely to attack me.” He accordingly kept his eyes about him, and, steering as well as he could by the sun, he pushed away towards the north. He could not help expecting to see a tiger spring out towards him, and every now and then he was startled by a snake crawling across his path; while the cawing of parrots and parrakeets, and the chattering of monkeys, made him feel like one of those knights in fairy stories, who have to traverse a forest haunted by evil spirits, who do their utmost to turn him from his gallant purpose of rescuing a lovely princess from the enchanted castle in which she has been shut up. Jack, however, was not to be turned from his intention of getting down to the banks of the river. He forgot that he would have to cross through a mangrove swamp, unless he could hit upon one of the few paths used by the negroes for the purpose of crossing it. Night was now rapidly approaching. He saw that unless he would run a very great risk of serving as the supper of some hungry wild beast, he must get up into a tree and pass it there. He was getting very hungry also, and he had but a few scraps of the biscuit he had shared with the monkey. Still, as long as there was daylight, he was anxious to push on, for he was sure that the boats would be sent in to look for him the first thing in the morning, and he wanted to be near the river to signalise to them. So he pushed on, beating down the bushes with his thick stick. Many a snake, lizard, and other creeping or crawling thing hissed or croaked at him as he passed. At last he saw before him an open space. “Ah! now, at all events, I shall be able to push on rapidly,” he thought to himself. So he did, and he went on some way, when on a sudden he found himself in front of a pailing with some grotesque-looking figures carved in wood grinning above it, and within it a bamboo-leaf-covered hut, before which stood a remarkably big ugly-looking blackamoor. Jack looked at him, and he looked at Jack, and uttered some words which clearly were meant to express, “Hillo, youngster, where are you hurrying to?” Jack followed a very natural impulse, which was to run as fast as he could. Under other circumstances this might have been a wise proceeding, for he certainly could run faster than the black man, who was not only big but fat. He had scarcely begun to run when a piece of painted wood came whizzing through the air after him, which would certainly have knocked him down had it hit him. He dodged it, however; but the next moment he heard the gruff voice of the black hounding on a dog, and when he turned his head he saw a huge Spanish bloodhound leaping over the pailing, followed by the negro. To attempt to escape was now hopeless, so he ran forward, flourishing his stick in the hope of keeping the dog at bay. When the negro saw he was coming back he called the hound off him.“For why you run so?” exclaimed the negro, who saw that he was an Englishman.“For the same reason that a pig does, because I was in a hurry,” answered Jack, who saw that his best course was to put a good face on the matter.“Ah, you funny young ossifer, you laugh moch,” observed the negro.“Yes, it runs in the family, we are addicted to laughing,” replied Jack with perfect coolness. “And now, old gentleman, I’m very sharp set, and as I doubt not that you have, plenty of provender in your house, I shall be much obliged to you for some supper.”The negro evidently could not make out what Jack was about, and seemed to have an idea that he had run away from his ship. Jack was not sorry to encourage this. The black was evidently balancing in his mind whether he should make most by giving him up and claiming a reward, or helping him to hide, and then getting possession of any wealth he might have about him. He, in the most friendly way, led Jack into his house. It was very neatly built of bamboo, of considerable size, oblong in shape, and divided into four or five rooms. In one was a table, with some chairs; and the negro, having given some orders in a loud voice to several ebon-hued damsels, who appeared at the door, in a short time several dishes of meat and grain were placed on it. “Come you eat,” said the host. Jack stuck his fork into the meat. It was not a hare, or a rabbit, or a pig, or a kid. He could not help thinking of his friend Quacko, as he turned it over and over. However, he was very hungry, and he thought he would taste a bit. It was very tender and nice, so he resolved that he would not ask questions, but go on eating till his appetite was satisfied. There was a sort of porringer of farina, and some cakes of the same substance. He ate away, and felt much more satisfied than at first with the state of affairs. His host informed him that he was a grand pilot of the river, and showed him a variety of certificates which he had received to prove the fact, from the masters of English, American, Spanish, Portuguese, and French traders. Some praised him, but others remarked that he was one of the greatest rascals unhung, and that he would cheat and rob whenever he had the opportunity, and tell any falsehood to suit his purpose. “A nice sort of gentleman,” thought Jack, but he did not express his opinions, and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could. The negro placed wine and spirits before him, but he partook sparingly of them.“You say I good man,” observed his host. “Go off to fight ship. Tell moch. Ah, ah!” And he winked and nodded and turned his eyes about in a curious way.Jack concluded that he proposed going off to the ship, and would give some information about the slavers, and that he wanted him to vouch for his character.“All right,” answered Jack; “you come on board; we shall be very happy to see you, and bring your book of certificates—remember that.” Considering the small vocabulary possessed by the negro, he managed to carry on a good deal of conversation with his guest. At last he made a sign that it was time to go to bed, and, pointing to a bundle of mats, he told him to lie down, and that no harm would come to him. Jack did as he was bid, and, having a good conscience and a good digestion, was very soon asleep.The household was astir by an early hour. When Jack opened his eyes, he saw that two or three strangers were in the room. They looked at him askance, with no friendly glance. His host soon after entered, and it was very evident that a change had come over the man’s feelings towards him. Jack, however, got up, and, shaking himself, tried to look as unconcerned as possible. The bloodhound also, which had been very good friends with him the previous evening, walked in and stalked, snuffing, and growling round and round him. Jack did not like the look of affairs. Some food at last was brought in for breakfast—baked yams, fried fish, farina, and other delicacies, of which his host invited him to partake, but was evidently inclined to treat him with very little ceremony. When the meal was over. Jack intimated that he should like to begin his journey to get on board his ship. The negro laughed and said something to the other men. “You no go dere now, you go wid dees.” Jack’s countenance fell. The other blackamoors grinned, and without ceremony took him by the shoulder to lead him off. The midshipman’s impulse was to resist, and he began to lay about him with his stick, which he snatched up from a corner, but the blacks threw themselves upon him, while the horrid bloodhound sprang at his legs, and in an instant he was overpowered, and his hands once more bound behind him. Jack thought that before he was carried off, he would try and induce the big negro to help him, so he exclaimed, “I say, friend pilot, perhaps you can’t help this; so just let them know on board ship where I am, and you will be well rewarded.” He saw the negro grin, but before he could get an answer, he was hurried off by his new masters. They conducted him along over ground very similar to that which he had passed the previous day. Now and then he saw fields of Indian corn, and small patches cultivated with other grains, but otherwise the country was covered mostly with a dense jungle, very narrow paths only being cut through it. After travelling five or six miles, they reached the river, and having dragged a canoe from among the bushes on the banks, all the party got into it, and paddled away up the stream. The cords were by this time really hurting Jack’s arms, and he made all the signs he could think of to induce the negroes to remove them. To his great satisfaction, after talking together, one of them got up and slackened the knots, so that he could throw the rope off. He expressed his thanks to the negro, and placed it gently by his side. Scarcely had he done so, when his eye fell on a piece of board floating by. He stretched out his hand and got hold of it. That instant the idea flashed into his mind, that this board might enable him to communicate with his shipmates. It very soon dried, and then, as if to amuse himself, he took out his knife and began cutting away at it. If he could carve but a few words, they might be sufficient to signify where he had gone. He carved, in no very regular characters, “A prisoner, up south branch.—Jack R.” As soon as he had done this, pretending to be tired of the amusement, he threw the board into the stream and watched it floating down towards the sea. “It is a hundred to one whether it is picked up,” he said to himself with a sigh, “I’ll double the chances though.” So he looked out for another board or piece of stick; and having before long got one, carved that in the same way. The blacks did not seem to suspect his object, and allowed him to continue the operation. After paddling about an hour, they ran up a small creek with black mudbanks; and when they had drawn the canoe on shore, Jack found himself standing before a strong stockade or fort with a deep ditch round it. There was no gate on the side turned towards the river, but going round some way, they arrived at an entrance over a rough drawbridge. The negroes talked a few minutes together, and then led Jack in. The object for which the fort was used was very clear. In the centre stood a large barracoon full of slaves. This barracoon was a shed built of heavy piles driven down into the earth, lashed together with bamboos, and thatched with palm-leaves. Jack, as he passed, looked in. Sad was the spectacle which met his sight. The negroes who had charge of Jack did not appear to have found the person of whom they were in search; for after waiting some time they led him again out of the fort and took the road up a hill away from the river. After walking some way they reached a village or town. It was surrounded by a bamboo fence. They entered by a narrow gateway at the end of a street. The houses, or rather huts, were all joined together, forming one long shed of uniform height on each side of the road. Each habitation had a small low door, which alone showed the number of separate dwellings in a row. The sides were composed of broad strips of bark, and bamboo leaves served for the thatch. Here and there were larger houses built of bamboo, with raised floors, marking the residences of chief men. At last they reached a house nearly a hundred feet in length, and, having ascended some steps, Jack found himself ushered into the presence of a burly negro, who was sitting in oriental style on a pile of mats smoking a pipe. He had on a cocked-hat and a green uniform coat covered with gold-lace, wide seamen’s trousers and yellow slippers, a striped shirt, and a red sash round his waist. From his air he evidently considered himself a very important personage, and Jack did not doubt that he was in the presence of some Indian potentate. Round the room were several mirrors in gilt frames, and on a table stood a large silver bowl, while there were a couple of chairs and a sofa covered with damask or silk. The king, for so he called himself, looked at Jack sternly and said, “For what you come to my country, eh?”Jack answered that he had been brought there against his will, and that he had no intention of coming. But his Majesty seemed to doubt him, and asked him a number of questions to elicit the truth. At length, however, he seemed satisfied. Jack was in hopes that he had made a favourable impression, and as he was getting hungry, he intimated that he should like some dinner. The king seemed pleased at the request, and ordered it to be brought into the room. It was a very good repast, and Jack was getting very happy, and hoping that there would be no great difficulty in making his escape, when the aspect of affairs was once more changed by the appearance of the two Spaniards who had picked him off the wreck of the slaver. They looked very fierce, and made threatening gestures at him, and abused him to the king for running away from them, and he discovered that they knew all about the expedition of theArcher’sboats up the river, and the capture of the schooner. He, however, went on eating his dinner, and tried to look unconcerned about the matter. This enraged them still more. What they might have done he could not tell; but suddenly a man rushed into the room, and gave some piece of information which seemed to put them all into a state of great agitation. They seized upon Jack and dragged him off, and they and a number of other people, headed by the king, rushed down the bill towards the fort. From the few words dropped which Jack could comprehend, he understood that they expected an attack to be made on it for the purpose of rescuing the slaves, and that they were resolved to defend it to the last. He found himself dragged along till he was carried into the fort with the crowd; he was then shown a gun, and it was intimated to him that if he did not do his best to fight, he should forthwith have his brains blown out—a dreadful alternative, but from which he could discover not the slightest prospect of escaping.

Poor Jack Rogers! His lot was indeed a hard one. We left him clinging to the keel of the schooner, while she was carried on by the rapid current over the bar, amidst the raging waters and blinding foam. Every moment he expected to be torn from his hold; but life was dear to him, and he exerted every particle of strength he possessed to hold on. Now a sea would come and wash over the vessel, almost drowning him, and completely preventing him from seeing; then he felt that he was whirled round and round, till he looked up—but it was only to see another huge breaker rolling up ready to overwhelm him. He felt the terrific dash of the wave, its roar sounded in his ears—he was almost stunned. He prayed that he might be preserved from the terrible danger to which he was exposed. The roller passed on, leaving him still firmly clutching the wreck. Again he looked up. The blue sea danced cheerfully before his eyes; the sun shone brightly; the wreck had drifted clear of the influence of the breakers. Most grateful he felt at having been thus far preserved. Still he knew that he was not out of danger. The schooner might any moment go down, and he might be left, without a plank to rest on, to the mercy of the ravenous sharks which swarmed around. His first impulse was to look out for the brig. She was in the offing, standing away to the westward. He had no hope from any help she could render him. Then he looked back over the bar, in the expectation of seeing the other boat coming out; but nowhere was she to be discovered. He saw, meantime, that the wreck was drifting to the southward down the coast, and at no great distance from it. He calculated the distance, and thought to himself that he could swim on shore. If he delayed, the vessel might drift farther out to sea, and the feat might be impossible.

“The sooner it is done, the better,” he thought to himself. “I have swum as far in a worse sea before now.” Before slipping off into the water, he commended himself with a hearty prayer to the care of a Merciful Providence. He was on the very point of letting go his hold, when, as he looked into the water, his eye fell on a dark triangular object, just rising out of it, slowly moving past. He looked again with a shudder, for he recognised the fin of a shark. Another and another passed by. Truly thankful did he feel that he had not trusted himself voluntarily within the power of their voracious jaws. If the vessel sank though, where would he be? He could not help thinking of that. He got up and gazed around. He was beginning to feel very hungry, and to his other dangers the risk of starvation was now added. Still, he did not allow himself to despair. He hoped that his old schoolfellows and Hemming would soon recross the bar, and, seeing the wreck, come and find him. After a little time, as he was casting his eye to the southward, he thought he saw a dark object moving along close in-shore, just outside the surf. He soon made out that it was a canoe, and then that she was manned by blacks. As they drew near, it was evident that they saw him on the wreck, for they at once pulled towards him. He scarcely knew whether to hail them as friends or foes. They were very ill-looking fellows he thought. There were also two white men in the stern-sheets of the canoe. He did not like their looks at all either. They were soon alongside, and when they saw his uniform, they looked up at him with no very friendly eye. Having held a short parley among themselves, they hailed him, but what they said he could not make out. Dangerous as his present position was, he felt no inclination to entrust himself to their care. However, they made signs to him to come down into the canoe, and after a little reflection, and thinking it better not to show any fear or mistrust of them, he complied with their demands, and as he slid down over the side of the vessel, they caught him, and hauled him in. He saw them minutely examining the vessel, and then they asked him a number of questions in Spanish, or a sort of mongrel Spanish, which he could not clearly comprehend, and he thought it more prudent not to show that he understood them at all. He made out, however, that the strangers were inquiring how the vessel was capsized, and how he came to be on board her. He guessed also that they knew that she was a slaver, and had been captured by the party to which he had belonged. When they found that he did not reply to their questions, they let him sit down at the bottom of the canoe, while the two whites and one of the black men talked together among themselves. They every now and then cast glances ominous of evil intentions towards him. Poor Jack did not at all like their looks, still less the tenor of the few words whose meaning he caught. “Knock him on the head at once,” said one. “Throw him overboard, and let the sharks have him,” proposed another. “Shoot him with pistol,” quoth the big negro,—grinning horribly. These words were uttered with the most cold-blooded indifference, as if the act proposed by the speakers was one of everyday occurrence with them. Jack, as he listened, longed to make an effort to save his life; anything was better than to sit there quietly and be murdered. Far rather would he die struggling bravely for existence. Still, as the pirates did not make any further demonstration, he thought it would be wiser to appear unconscious of their threats, and remained where he was without moving. Jack, however, every now and then, looked over the gunwale of the canoe, to ascertain where they were going. They quickly arrived off the bar, but the slave-dealers or pirates, or whatever they were, seemed to think that there was too much surf to allow them to cross it. They therefore pulled back a little way to the south. Jack observed a patch of sandy beach, with a clear channel up to it, between two rocks. They waited for a short time, and then the canoe, mounting on the top of a roller, was carried rapidly forward, the foam hissing and bubbling round her, till she grounded on the beach. In a moment the crew, jumping out of her, ran her up out of the reach of the succeeding roller, which roared angrily, as if disappointed of its prey. Jack was going to walk on, but he felt a hand laid heavily on his shoulder, and his arms, being seized by two of the black fellows, were bound behind him, and he found himself a prisoner on the coast of Africa, without the slightest prospect, as far as he could see, of making his escape from his ruffian captors.

Poor Jack was dragged along by his savage companions, the muzzle of a pistol or the point of a long knife every now and then being shown him, as a hint that he must keep up his spirits and move on. This was no easy matter without stumbling, for the ground was strewed with decayed timber, while creepers and parasitical plants of numerous species formed traps to catch his feet. He saw, too, the grass frequently moving, as a hideous snake or some other reptile crept away among it. Overhead were birds of every variety, and of the richest plumage; parrots, trumpet birds, pigeons, whydahs, green paroquets, and numberless others, which he was in no humour just then to admire, while monkeys of all sorts skipped about among the boughs of the lofty palms, and chattered away, as if to inquire where the stranger had come from. In one or two openings between the giant palms, bananas, and other lofty trees, Jack caught sight of some blue ranges of mountains in the far distance, and towards them, as they pushed their way through the dense underwood, his captors seemed to be proceeding. The dreadful thought occurred to him, that he was being carried off into the interior to be turned into a slave, and perhaps that he should never be able to make his escape. The jungle grew thicker and thicker, and the forest more gloomy as they proceeded, till he could scarcely work his way along, and even the Spaniards and blacks, with their arms at liberty, had no little difficulty in making progress through it. At last they came to a standstill, and a talk among themselves. Poor Jack caught the very ominous words, “mata el chico,” which he knew too well meant “kill the little chap.”

“He is not worth the trouble he costs us,” added the ferocious Spaniard who had spoken. “This knife of mine will settle him with a blow.”

“It is a pity we did not do it in the canoe, and save ourselves trouble,” growled out his companion, drawing his long knife from his belt.

Jack felt that his last moments had come. He, however, eyed his captors boldly, and tried to nerve himself for the expected stroke. A short time before, some villains of the same character as those into whose power he had fallen had murdered a young midshipman, whom they had found on board a prize they had retaken, and he knew that they would have no scruple about killing him. The blacks stood by, enjoying, apparently, his agony; for, brave as he was, it was a bitter thing thus, without cause, to be cruelly murdered in cold blood. No one spoke. Jack tried to offer up a prayer to Heaven, but, at such a moment, even to pray was difficult. His heart, though, was praying, and One who knows what is in the heart heard him. Suddenly there was a rustling of leaves, a crashing of boughs. A loud shriek was uttered, and a huge animal leaped through the brushwood, and, seizing one of the negroes, again bounded off into the thicket. The unfortunate wretch cried out piteously for help. The Spaniards and the negroes turned to pursue the wild beast. From the glimpse Jack had of it, he believed it to be a tiger. The negro who had been seized was the smallest of the party, and of light weight; and the savage brute was more accustomed to make his way through the tangled underwood than were his pursuers. On he went, bounding through the thicket, his miserable victim in vain crying for assistance. The rest pursued as fast as they could, apparently forgetting Jack altogether. They were soon hid from his sight by the trees. He had no wish to follow them, even had he possessed the power of so doing. His arms were bound, and before he could do anything he must contrive to get them loose. He tugged and tugged away frantically. He was afraid his captors would be back before he could get free, and execute their murderous threats. By what means he was to escape, he could not just then tell. The first thing was to obtain the use of his limbs. He worked away for life and death.

At last he twisted the rope round so that he could reach one of the knots with his teeth. He pulled away lustily. He found that he was slackening it. He listened for the shouts and cries of the pirates. He thought that their voices sounded louder and nearer again. He was every moment getting the ropes looser. One more tug, and his hands were at liberty. He struck out on either side to assure himself that he had the free use of them. He looked round; no one was in sight. His first impulse was to set off and run back to the coast, but then he recollected that he might be easily pursued, that it must be seven or eight miles off at least, as three or four hours had passed since he and his captors had left it. After a moment’s reflection he determined to find his way as soon as possible to the banks of the river. He was certain that the boats would be sent in to look for his party, and, by watching for them, he hoped to be able to make some signal to call their attention to himself. He still heard the voices of the pirates. A tall palm-tree was near. He thought that the safest plan would be to get to the top of it. He could easily hide himself among the wide-spreading leaves, and the Spaniards, believing that his arms were bound, would never think of looking there for him. He would also have the advantage of watching all that was going on below. He had seen blacks climb a tree with a band partly round their stem and partly round their waists. The rope he had just got clear of his arms would help him up in the same way. He rapidly fitted it, and, with knees and hands working away, up he went the smooth stem. He had got nearly to the top, when he heard a chattering, and looking up, he saw a very ugly face grinning down upon him. An ape had previous possession of his proposed stronghold. He was not to be daunted, however, but, swinging himself up on the bough, prepared to do battle for its possession. He had still a pistol in his belt, though it was not loaded. The pirates had forgotten to deprive him of it. He held it by the muzzle, and Master Quacko, who seemed to be a very sensible monkey, thought that it would be foolish to pick a quarrel with so well-armed a stranger. As Jack advanced, he retreated, till Jack reached the centre of the tree, where he could coil himself away without the possibility of any one below discovering him. He looked round before sitting down. Below him was a dense mass of foliage, with only here and there an opening. To the west, in the far distance, was the sea, looking bright and blue; to the east were ranges of mountains, the most remote evidently of considerable elevation; while to the north he caught a glimpse of the river, to his great satisfaction, not very far off. He could still hear the voices of the pirates, but he could not discover whether they had succeeded in rescuing the wretched negro from the fangs of the tiger. Meantime the monkey sat on the farther end of a branch watching him.

“I hope you have formed a favourable opinion of me, Master Quacko,” he said, looking at the ape, for even in the dangerous predicament in which he was placed he could not resist a joke.

“Quacko, quacko, quacko,” went the monkey, in a tone which Jack thought was friendly.

He felt about in his pockets, and found a piece of biscuit. He nibbled a bit, and then held it out to his companion. The ape drew near, at first, hesitatingly; Jack nibbled a little more of the biscuit. Quacko thought that it would all be gone if he did not make haste, so he made one or two more hops up towards Jack. Jack nibbled away, then once more held out the biscuit. The monkey made one spring, and nearly caught it, but Jack drew it back, that the animal might feel that it was given him. Then he held it out, and the ape took it quite gently, but ran off to the end of a bough, that he might examine this new sort of food, and eat it at his leisure.

The pirates had now found their way back to where they had left Jack. He could plainly hear them asking one another what could have become of him. They were under the tree in which he lay so snugly ensconced.

“He must have hid himself in the brushwood; he cannot be far off,” said one.

“If he had had his hands at liberty, I should say he would have got up one of these trees,” observed another. “Those English sailors can climb anything. I have seen them go up the side of a slippery rock without a hole in which to stick their nails.”

“He cannot be up this tree,” remarked the first. “See! there is a monkey quietly eating a nut on one of the branches. There is no other tree near in which he could hide.”

After this the men hunted about on every side, and Jack hoped that they would then go away.

“He must still be near,” exclaimed one of them. “Sancho, do you climb that tree and look about you. You will soon find out where he is by the shaking of the bushes as he moves along. Up! man, up!”

Jack knew, by the voice which replied, that one of the negroes was climbing up. The monkey had finished his biscuit, and, liking it very much, came back for some more, not observing what was occurring below. Jack had now won his confidence; and by giving him a very little bit at a time kept the animal close to him. Up climbed the black. Jack knew that he could knock him down again with the butt end of his pistol, but if he did he would only hasten his own destruction, as the others would quickly find means to get hold of him. He felt that the black was close under him. He caught sight of his woolly pate working its way through, the leaves. “Now or never,” thought Jack. He seized the unsuspecting ape, and threw him down directly on the negro’s head. The monkey, as much astonished as anybody, laid hold of the woolly crop with his claws, and scratched and bit, chattering away with all his might.

“Fetish! fetish! fetish!” screamed out the negro, sliding down the tree a great deal faster than he had come up, coming down the latter part by the run, and reaching the ground more dead than alive; while the monkey clambered up again, and, not daring to approach Jack, took his seat at the end of a bough, chattering away in the greatest state of agitation.

Jack lay snug. He had hopes that none of the other blacks would attempt to climb the tree after the reception their companion had met with; and from what he heard them say he had great hopes that they really believed they had seen a fetish. The Spaniards too, though pretending to laugh at the superstition of the negroes, having no real religion of their own to supply its place, were very strongly impressed with the black man’s superstition, and would on no account have attempted to climb up the tree. Jack therefore began to hope that he should escape from his intending murderers, and he did not despair of ultimately getting back to his ship.

In a short time the Spaniards and negroes, uttering loud oaths at their ill luck in having lost one of their companions as well as their captive, set off once more; and Jack watched them as they worked their way through the brushwood to the eastward. He felt truly glad when they were no longer to be seen. He was now also in a hurry to be off. “Good-bye, Mr Quacko,” said he, turning to the monkey, and making him a profound bow, for Jack was the pink of politeness. “I am much obliged to you for the accommodation your tree has afforded me, and for the assistance you have rendered me, and if you will ever venture afloat I shall be very happy to see you on board our ship. Good-bye, old fellow, give us a paw.” He felt in a curiously excited state, and ready to talk any nonsense. Quacko, who thought he was to have some more biscuit, came near, but when he saw that there was none he hopped off again and chattered away louder than ever.

Jack now descended in the same way that he had got up. His first care was to cut a thick stick to serve as a weapon of defence, for he thought to himself, “If the tigers about here are so bold as to carry off a black man, they are just as likely to attack me.” He accordingly kept his eyes about him, and, steering as well as he could by the sun, he pushed away towards the north. He could not help expecting to see a tiger spring out towards him, and every now and then he was startled by a snake crawling across his path; while the cawing of parrots and parrakeets, and the chattering of monkeys, made him feel like one of those knights in fairy stories, who have to traverse a forest haunted by evil spirits, who do their utmost to turn him from his gallant purpose of rescuing a lovely princess from the enchanted castle in which she has been shut up. Jack, however, was not to be turned from his intention of getting down to the banks of the river. He forgot that he would have to cross through a mangrove swamp, unless he could hit upon one of the few paths used by the negroes for the purpose of crossing it. Night was now rapidly approaching. He saw that unless he would run a very great risk of serving as the supper of some hungry wild beast, he must get up into a tree and pass it there. He was getting very hungry also, and he had but a few scraps of the biscuit he had shared with the monkey. Still, as long as there was daylight, he was anxious to push on, for he was sure that the boats would be sent in to look for him the first thing in the morning, and he wanted to be near the river to signalise to them. So he pushed on, beating down the bushes with his thick stick. Many a snake, lizard, and other creeping or crawling thing hissed or croaked at him as he passed. At last he saw before him an open space. “Ah! now, at all events, I shall be able to push on rapidly,” he thought to himself. So he did, and he went on some way, when on a sudden he found himself in front of a pailing with some grotesque-looking figures carved in wood grinning above it, and within it a bamboo-leaf-covered hut, before which stood a remarkably big ugly-looking blackamoor. Jack looked at him, and he looked at Jack, and uttered some words which clearly were meant to express, “Hillo, youngster, where are you hurrying to?” Jack followed a very natural impulse, which was to run as fast as he could. Under other circumstances this might have been a wise proceeding, for he certainly could run faster than the black man, who was not only big but fat. He had scarcely begun to run when a piece of painted wood came whizzing through the air after him, which would certainly have knocked him down had it hit him. He dodged it, however; but the next moment he heard the gruff voice of the black hounding on a dog, and when he turned his head he saw a huge Spanish bloodhound leaping over the pailing, followed by the negro. To attempt to escape was now hopeless, so he ran forward, flourishing his stick in the hope of keeping the dog at bay. When the negro saw he was coming back he called the hound off him.

“For why you run so?” exclaimed the negro, who saw that he was an Englishman.

“For the same reason that a pig does, because I was in a hurry,” answered Jack, who saw that his best course was to put a good face on the matter.

“Ah, you funny young ossifer, you laugh moch,” observed the negro.

“Yes, it runs in the family, we are addicted to laughing,” replied Jack with perfect coolness. “And now, old gentleman, I’m very sharp set, and as I doubt not that you have, plenty of provender in your house, I shall be much obliged to you for some supper.”

The negro evidently could not make out what Jack was about, and seemed to have an idea that he had run away from his ship. Jack was not sorry to encourage this. The black was evidently balancing in his mind whether he should make most by giving him up and claiming a reward, or helping him to hide, and then getting possession of any wealth he might have about him. He, in the most friendly way, led Jack into his house. It was very neatly built of bamboo, of considerable size, oblong in shape, and divided into four or five rooms. In one was a table, with some chairs; and the negro, having given some orders in a loud voice to several ebon-hued damsels, who appeared at the door, in a short time several dishes of meat and grain were placed on it. “Come you eat,” said the host. Jack stuck his fork into the meat. It was not a hare, or a rabbit, or a pig, or a kid. He could not help thinking of his friend Quacko, as he turned it over and over. However, he was very hungry, and he thought he would taste a bit. It was very tender and nice, so he resolved that he would not ask questions, but go on eating till his appetite was satisfied. There was a sort of porringer of farina, and some cakes of the same substance. He ate away, and felt much more satisfied than at first with the state of affairs. His host informed him that he was a grand pilot of the river, and showed him a variety of certificates which he had received to prove the fact, from the masters of English, American, Spanish, Portuguese, and French traders. Some praised him, but others remarked that he was one of the greatest rascals unhung, and that he would cheat and rob whenever he had the opportunity, and tell any falsehood to suit his purpose. “A nice sort of gentleman,” thought Jack, but he did not express his opinions, and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could. The negro placed wine and spirits before him, but he partook sparingly of them.

“You say I good man,” observed his host. “Go off to fight ship. Tell moch. Ah, ah!” And he winked and nodded and turned his eyes about in a curious way.

Jack concluded that he proposed going off to the ship, and would give some information about the slavers, and that he wanted him to vouch for his character.

“All right,” answered Jack; “you come on board; we shall be very happy to see you, and bring your book of certificates—remember that.” Considering the small vocabulary possessed by the negro, he managed to carry on a good deal of conversation with his guest. At last he made a sign that it was time to go to bed, and, pointing to a bundle of mats, he told him to lie down, and that no harm would come to him. Jack did as he was bid, and, having a good conscience and a good digestion, was very soon asleep.

The household was astir by an early hour. When Jack opened his eyes, he saw that two or three strangers were in the room. They looked at him askance, with no friendly glance. His host soon after entered, and it was very evident that a change had come over the man’s feelings towards him. Jack, however, got up, and, shaking himself, tried to look as unconcerned as possible. The bloodhound also, which had been very good friends with him the previous evening, walked in and stalked, snuffing, and growling round and round him. Jack did not like the look of affairs. Some food at last was brought in for breakfast—baked yams, fried fish, farina, and other delicacies, of which his host invited him to partake, but was evidently inclined to treat him with very little ceremony. When the meal was over. Jack intimated that he should like to begin his journey to get on board his ship. The negro laughed and said something to the other men. “You no go dere now, you go wid dees.” Jack’s countenance fell. The other blackamoors grinned, and without ceremony took him by the shoulder to lead him off. The midshipman’s impulse was to resist, and he began to lay about him with his stick, which he snatched up from a corner, but the blacks threw themselves upon him, while the horrid bloodhound sprang at his legs, and in an instant he was overpowered, and his hands once more bound behind him. Jack thought that before he was carried off, he would try and induce the big negro to help him, so he exclaimed, “I say, friend pilot, perhaps you can’t help this; so just let them know on board ship where I am, and you will be well rewarded.” He saw the negro grin, but before he could get an answer, he was hurried off by his new masters. They conducted him along over ground very similar to that which he had passed the previous day. Now and then he saw fields of Indian corn, and small patches cultivated with other grains, but otherwise the country was covered mostly with a dense jungle, very narrow paths only being cut through it. After travelling five or six miles, they reached the river, and having dragged a canoe from among the bushes on the banks, all the party got into it, and paddled away up the stream. The cords were by this time really hurting Jack’s arms, and he made all the signs he could think of to induce the negroes to remove them. To his great satisfaction, after talking together, one of them got up and slackened the knots, so that he could throw the rope off. He expressed his thanks to the negro, and placed it gently by his side. Scarcely had he done so, when his eye fell on a piece of board floating by. He stretched out his hand and got hold of it. That instant the idea flashed into his mind, that this board might enable him to communicate with his shipmates. It very soon dried, and then, as if to amuse himself, he took out his knife and began cutting away at it. If he could carve but a few words, they might be sufficient to signify where he had gone. He carved, in no very regular characters, “A prisoner, up south branch.—Jack R.” As soon as he had done this, pretending to be tired of the amusement, he threw the board into the stream and watched it floating down towards the sea. “It is a hundred to one whether it is picked up,” he said to himself with a sigh, “I’ll double the chances though.” So he looked out for another board or piece of stick; and having before long got one, carved that in the same way. The blacks did not seem to suspect his object, and allowed him to continue the operation. After paddling about an hour, they ran up a small creek with black mudbanks; and when they had drawn the canoe on shore, Jack found himself standing before a strong stockade or fort with a deep ditch round it. There was no gate on the side turned towards the river, but going round some way, they arrived at an entrance over a rough drawbridge. The negroes talked a few minutes together, and then led Jack in. The object for which the fort was used was very clear. In the centre stood a large barracoon full of slaves. This barracoon was a shed built of heavy piles driven down into the earth, lashed together with bamboos, and thatched with palm-leaves. Jack, as he passed, looked in. Sad was the spectacle which met his sight. The negroes who had charge of Jack did not appear to have found the person of whom they were in search; for after waiting some time they led him again out of the fort and took the road up a hill away from the river. After walking some way they reached a village or town. It was surrounded by a bamboo fence. They entered by a narrow gateway at the end of a street. The houses, or rather huts, were all joined together, forming one long shed of uniform height on each side of the road. Each habitation had a small low door, which alone showed the number of separate dwellings in a row. The sides were composed of broad strips of bark, and bamboo leaves served for the thatch. Here and there were larger houses built of bamboo, with raised floors, marking the residences of chief men. At last they reached a house nearly a hundred feet in length, and, having ascended some steps, Jack found himself ushered into the presence of a burly negro, who was sitting in oriental style on a pile of mats smoking a pipe. He had on a cocked-hat and a green uniform coat covered with gold-lace, wide seamen’s trousers and yellow slippers, a striped shirt, and a red sash round his waist. From his air he evidently considered himself a very important personage, and Jack did not doubt that he was in the presence of some Indian potentate. Round the room were several mirrors in gilt frames, and on a table stood a large silver bowl, while there were a couple of chairs and a sofa covered with damask or silk. The king, for so he called himself, looked at Jack sternly and said, “For what you come to my country, eh?”

Jack answered that he had been brought there against his will, and that he had no intention of coming. But his Majesty seemed to doubt him, and asked him a number of questions to elicit the truth. At length, however, he seemed satisfied. Jack was in hopes that he had made a favourable impression, and as he was getting hungry, he intimated that he should like some dinner. The king seemed pleased at the request, and ordered it to be brought into the room. It was a very good repast, and Jack was getting very happy, and hoping that there would be no great difficulty in making his escape, when the aspect of affairs was once more changed by the appearance of the two Spaniards who had picked him off the wreck of the slaver. They looked very fierce, and made threatening gestures at him, and abused him to the king for running away from them, and he discovered that they knew all about the expedition of theArcher’sboats up the river, and the capture of the schooner. He, however, went on eating his dinner, and tried to look unconcerned about the matter. This enraged them still more. What they might have done he could not tell; but suddenly a man rushed into the room, and gave some piece of information which seemed to put them all into a state of great agitation. They seized upon Jack and dragged him off, and they and a number of other people, headed by the king, rushed down the bill towards the fort. From the few words dropped which Jack could comprehend, he understood that they expected an attack to be made on it for the purpose of rescuing the slaves, and that they were resolved to defend it to the last. He found himself dragged along till he was carried into the fort with the crowd; he was then shown a gun, and it was intimated to him that if he did not do his best to fight, he should forthwith have his brains blown out—a dreadful alternative, but from which he could discover not the slightest prospect of escaping.

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