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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the "Seafowl" Sloop, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 21. "Niggah, Sah" |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. "NIGGAH, SAH" A month passed swiftly away, during which the _Seafowl_ sighted and chased vessel after vessel, each of which had been forced to lie to in response to a shot fired across her bows, but only with a disappointing result--one which sent the captain into a temper which made him dangerous to approach for a full half-hour after the strangers' papers had been examined, to prove that she had nothing whatever to do with the slave-trade. Then the captain would calm down, and something like the following would take place: "Did I speak rather sharply to you when the boat returned, Mr Anderson?" "Oh! Well, rather hastily, sir," said the chief officer drily. "But that's nothing, sir. I'm afraid I was not very polite to you. I was horribly disappointed, sir." "Naturally," the captain cried excitedly. "Here we are, getting well within range of the islands where we know this wretched traffic is carried on, where the plantations are cultivated by the unfortunate blacks, and we seem bound to encounter a slaver, and yet the days pass on and we prove to be hunting a will-o'-the-wisp." "Yes, sir, it is maddening," replied the lieutenant. "Day after day I have swept the offing, feeling certain that fate would favour us by letting the sloop come up with that Yankee, or with one of his kidney; but disappointment is always the result." "Yes, Mr Anderson," cried the captain; "always the result. Never mind," he continued, speaking through his closely set teeth; "our turn will come one of these days." And then with his telescope tightly nipped beneath his arm he would tramp up and down the quarter-deck, pausing now and then to focus his glass, take a peep through, close it again with a snap and renew his march. "Look at him," said Roberts, one bright morning, as the two lads stood together well forward, where they fondly hoped that they were quite out of their chief's way. "No, thank you, Dick," was the response; "it isn't safe. He's just in one of his fits, ready to pounce upon any one who gives him a chance. Every one is getting afraid of him. I wish to goodness we could overtake something and have a chance of a prize." "Well, we must find something to do soon, lad. We're right in amongst the islands, and we shall have to land and hunt out some nigger driver's nest." "But we can't do anything if we do. We daren't interfere with any plantation where the blacks are employed." "No, I suppose not; but it would be a glorious change if we got orders to land at one of the islands and could pick up some news or another." "What sort of news?" "What sort? Why, information that a slaver was expected to land a consignment, and then--" "Oh yes, and then! Well, we shall see." "Yes, we shall see; but I don't believe any of the planters will give us a bit of information." "Don't you? I do," said Murray. "There are good planters as well as bad planters, and I feel full of hope." "I don't," said Roberts bitterly. "I think we ought to go back to the West Coast and watch the rivers again. We shall do no good here." But Murray proved the more likely to be right, for after touching at the little port of one island, where the _Seafowl_ was visited by the English gentleman who acted as consul, and who had a long interview with the officers in the cabin, it became bruited through the vessel that something important was on the way, and after boats had been sent ashore and a plentiful supply of fresh water and vegetables taken in, the sloop set sail again, piloted by a fishing boat. Under its guidance the _Seafowl_ lay off the shores of what seemed through the glasses to be an earthly paradise, a perfect scene of verdant beauty, with waving trees and cultivated fields, sheltered by a central mountain the configuration of which suggested that it must at one time have been a volcano, one side of which had been blown away so that a gigantic crater many miles across formed a lake-like harbour. Into this deep water, after careful soundings had been taken, the sloop glided and dropped anchor, the pilot with his two men hoisting sail directly after receiving pay. "This is something like," said Roberts, rubbing his hands. "I wonder how soon we shall go ashore." "Almost directly, I expect," replied Murray. "Why? What do you know?" "Not much; only what Mr Anderson let drop to me." "Let drop to you!" cried Roberts pettishly. "He never lets things drop to me." "Well, what does that matter? I always tell you anything that I hear." "Never mind that. What did Anderson let drop?" "That the skipper has learned that there is an English gentleman here who farms a plantation with a number of slaves." "Well, lots do," said Roberts sharply. "And on the other side of the island there is a very large sugar plantation belonging to an American who is suspected of having dealings with slaving skippers who trade with the West Coast. What do you say to that?" "That sounds likely; but what then?" "Well, according to what Mr Anderson told me, the skipper will, if he waits for a chance, be able to catch one if not more of the slavers who come here to land their cargoes, for this American planter to ship off by degrees to other planters who require slaves." "Ah, yes, I see," cried Roberts. "This Yankee, then, keeps a sort of slave store?" "Something of the kind," replied Murray, "and if we are careful I suppose that the skipper will have his chance at last; only he says that he is not going to trust any stranger again." "Well, never mind that," said Roberts, speaking excitedly now as he scanned the slopes of the old verdure-clad hollow in which the sloop lay as if in a lake. "If we are about to lie up here for a time and go ashore and explore we shall have plenty of fun and adventure, with a bit of fighting now and then." "Likely enough," said Murray. "But I should like for us to have hit upon the place where that West Coast Yankee brought his cargoes. There's no possibility of this being the spot?" "One never knows," said Murray thoughtfully. "Too much to hope," said his companion. "Oh, I don't know. We've been horribly unlucky, but the luck is bound to turn some time. One thing we do know for certain: that Yankee skipper brings slaves across to the West Indies." "Yes, we know that." "Well, this is one of the West Indian Islands." "A precious small one, though," said Roberts in a depreciatory tone. "What of that? We know for certain that there is the owner of a plantation here who trades in slaves, and there is nothing to prevent his having dealings with the man we want." "M-m-no; but there must be several such men as he. Well, we must get some fun," cried Roberts, "and if we don't find all we want--" "We may get something," said Murray cheerfully. "Now then, which of us will have the first chance of going ashore?" "You, of course," replied Roberts bitterly. "Some fellows get all the luck. No, no; I don't mean that, old chap." "Look at Anderson," cried Murray; "he's taking orders from the skipper. Hooray, Dick! See if it isn't for a boat to be sent ashore. Whose turn is it going to be?" That question was soon answered, for the captain, who was pacing to and fro searchingly overlooking the preparations for a boat going ashore, suddenly caught sight of the two lads. "Oh, there you are, Mr Murray!" he exclaimed. "Well, has not Mr Anderson given you your orders to accompany the boat?" Roberts's face puckered up. "No, sir," said the lieutenant, taking upon himself to answer. "I intended to take Mr Roberts with me." Murray felt disappointed, but all the same he could not refrain from laughing at the sudden change which came over his fellow middy's face, to the latter's wonder. "Oh, I see," said the captain, raising his hat and re-adjusting it in a fidgety way he had when excited, which was followed by a fresh settling of the head-covering. "Quite right; quite right; but here's Mr Murray growing dull and sluggish with doing nothing; you had better take him too. One will help to keep the other out of mischief." Roberts winced, and turned sharply to glance at Murray angrily, as the latter hurried to take his place in the stern sheets. "What's the matter, Dick?" Murray whispered, as soon as the pair were in their places. "Matter? Any one would think I was a child and ought to have some one to take care of me. Now, look here, young fellow, if you grin at me before old Anderson there's going to be a quarrel." "All right," said Murray coolly; "but keep it till we get back." Roberts looked round sharply, but he had no opportunity to say more, for the chief officer descended to his place, Murray moved aside to let his comrade take the tiller ropes, the boatswain gave the cutter a vigorous thrust off, the men lowered their oars, and then bending low to their task they made the smooth water of the natural harbour begin to rattle beneath the bows. The boat was run across beside the heavily forested shores, where, before long, but after many disappointments, an opening was found which seemed to be the entrance to a sluggish river, and as they glided in the overhanging trees soon shut them off from all sight of the sunny bay they had crossed. The bright light gave place to a dim twilight which at times grew almost dark, while the river wound and doubled upon itself like a serpent, and twice over, after a long pull, the lieutenant bade the men lie upon their oars, to rest, while he hesitated as to whether he should go farther. But all seemed so mysterious and tempting that, in the full expectation of reaching some town or port belonging to the island, the rowing was again and again resumed till hours had passed, and at last the chief officer exclaimed-- "It's like chasing a will-o'-the-wisp, gentlemen, but I cannot help feeling that we are on the highroad to the interior, and, in spite of the utter loneliness of the place, I don't like to give up." "Of course you don't, sir," said Murray, as the men rested upon their oars, and he scanned the heavily wooded banks. "I wonder whether there are any plantations worked by the slaves: I can see no sign of a house." "No, I was thinking of that," said Roberts, who was sweeping the distance with a glass; "but there is a bit of an opening yonder which looks as if the river branched there, and--Hallo! I didn't see it at first. There's some sort of a boat lying moored in that nook." "Where?" cried Murray. "Yonder among the trees. Take the glass, sir." Mr Anderson took the telescope. "To be sure: the river does branch there. Steer for that cove, Mr Roberts, and let us see what the little vessel is like. At all events here is some sign of the place being inhabited. Give way, my lads." The men pulled hard, and as they progressed, instead of obtaining a better view of the vessel, it seemed only to glide in behind the trees until they were close in and passed up what proved to be the mouth of a little creek, when Murray uttered an ejaculation. "What is it, Mr Murray?" cried the lieutenant. "The lugger, sir!" "Well, I see it is, my lad. I dare say its owner's house is close at hand." "But don't you see, sir?" cried Murray excitedly. "Of course I do, but there's no one aboard, apparently." "Oh, I don't mean that, sir!" cried the lad. "It's the lugger we first came upon off that African river." "What!" cried the lieutenant. "Impossible! Run close in, Mr Roberts." And the men pulled the cutter close alongside the swift-looking boat with its raking masts and lowered lug sails. "Humph!" said the lieutenant. "The same build, the same rig, the same coloured canvas. Well, really, Mr Murray, it is a strange resemblance." "I'm almost sure it is the same boat, sir," cried Murray. "That's as good as saying that the Yankee who tricked us so has sailed right across the Atlantic with the slaving schooner, and we have had the luck to follow in her track, and caught up to her." "Yes, sir; I don't think there's any doubt of it," cried Murray. "Then, if you are right, Mr Murray, the slaving schooner will be somewhere close at hand." "Yes, sir; I hope so," replied Murray. "I am ready to hope so, my lad, but I say it is impossible. That was a lugger, and this is a lugger, and of course there is a certain amount of resemblance in the rig; but you are jumping at conclusions just because this is similar." "I think not, sir. I took so much notice of the boat; but look here, sir, Tom May was with me when I went forward to speak to the Yankee, and he would know.--Here, May, isn't that the lugger the American planter was on when we brought her to?" The sailor stared hard at the vessel hanging by a line fastened to what seemed to be a cocoanut tree. "Same build, sir; same rig, sir. Might have been built up the same river, but it arn't the one we saw that day, sir--Wish it was!" "There, Murray, what do you say now?" "That I didn't think it possible that I could have been so deceived. Would it be possible that it could have been built by the same shipwright, sir?" "Quite, my lad; and it is quite possible that we may come across a schooner or two built just like the one we saw escape. There is no doubt that many slaving schooners are built in these islands especially for the trade. Look out, my lads, and don't miss anything. There may be one of them moored safely in a snug creek.--What was that?" "Nigger, sir," said Tom May. "I just ketched sight of him squinting at us among the trees. There he is again, sir." This time Roberts had caught sight of a black figure wearing the very simple costume of a pair of loose cotton drawers, his round woolly head covered with a broad-brimmed hat formed of extremely thin strips of thin cane. "Scared at us," said the sailor, for as the cutter was rowed alongside of the lugger, the black darted out of sight, but, evidently curious to know what was going on and the object of the strangers, he peered out again. "Ahoy there!" shouted one of the sailors. That was enough. The black disappeared once more, but only for a few moments before he was peeping again. "You hail him this time, Mr Murray," cried the lieutenant. "Ahoy there!" cried Murray. "What boat's that?" The black clung to one of the trees on the bank of the river and watched the speaker eagerly. "He doesn't understand," said the lieutenant. "I dare say he only speaks bad Spanish. But try him again." "Can you speak English?" cried Murray. "Yes, massa!" "Come, that's better," said the lieutenant. "Try him again, Mr Murray." And the lad shouted-- "Whose lugger is that?" "Massa's, sah." "Oh!" cried Murray; and then obeying a sudden thought, "Where is the schooner?" "Gone sail round um ilum, sah." "With slaves?" said Murray. "Gone take big lot black fellow, sah." "What for?" "Hoe de cotton, sah; plant de sugar, sah," said the black, showing his white teeth. "When will the schooner come back, Sambo?" said Murray. "Name not Sambo, sah," said the black. "What is it then?" "Jupe, sah, Jupiter." "Ask him where his master lives." "Yes, sir!--Where does your master live?" The black rested the heavy hoe he carried among the thick growth of the trees which rang alongside of the stream, and pointed away into the dense cover at the back. "Jupe show massa." "Is your master away with the schooner?" asked Murray. "No, sah. Massa never go to sea. Cap' Huggum go in um schooner." "Oh, that's it, is it?" said Mr Anderson. "Now then, my lad; if we land you will show us the way to your master's place?" "Yes, sah. Massa Huggum's 'long with massa now." "Who is Master Huggums?" said the lieutenant. "Massa, sah. Make um niggah work, sah;" and as he spoke the black showed his teeth, raised his hoe, and brought the handle sharply against the trunk of some kind of palm-tree. "That's de way make um work. Lazy rascal go to sleep. Massa Huggum wake um up." "Oh, that's it, is it? Does he wake you up like that?" The black burst into a hoarse laugh. "Iyah, iyah, iyah!" he cackled out, and evidently thoroughly enjoying the questioning, he threw himself down in the thick cane growth, rolled over and over, and then sprang up again. "No give Jupe de whip, massa. Find Jupe fas' sleep. _Ck, ck, ck_!" And he threw out one bare foot as if emulating some one who had heavily kicked a slave who was lying asleep. The feeling of fear that had made the black dart back into the cover of the trees had now passed away in favour of a display of eager curiosity, and he came close to the boat, where he watched the sailors laying in their oars and the coxswain hook on to one of the trees, while the officers prepared to land. "Now, then," said the lieutenant, "show us a dry place; it is all muddy here." "Jupe show landum place, sah," said the man sharply. "Very well, and then you can lead us up to the house." "Yes, sah. Take buccra up through plantashum, but Jupe no dare go." "What do you mean?" said Mr Anderson. "You offered to go just now." "Yes, sah; but Jupe forget all 'bout Massa Huggum. De overseer go in great big pashum, sah. Call Jupe ugly black nigger, sah." "What for?" "Take buccra officer up to plantashum see de niggers, sah." "Oh, that's how Mr Huggins or Huggum goes on, is it? Well, never mind him," said the lieutenant; "lead us up to your master." The black showed his teeth again and indulged in his cackling laugh. "Well, what does that mean, sir?" "Jupe no dah go, sah. Massa Huggum say cut him libbah out." "Never mind Mr Huggins, my lad. He'd better! Here, what's your real master's name?" "Massa Allum, sah." "Well, take us to him." The black shook his head. "Mass' Allum 'fraid Massa Huggum, sah. Massa Huggum call um big name." "Then this Huggins is the real master; eh, boy?" "Dat's the trufe, sah. Ebbery boy in plantation 'fraid of Massa Huggum." "Well, look here, my sable friend, please understand this: nobody here is afraid of your Mr Huggins. Show us the way to the plantation, and if he dares to touch you I'll take him on board, and the boatswain's mate shall tie him up and give him the cat--flog him; do you understand?" "Mass' say give Mass' Huggum whip?" "Yes, or any one else, boy. Now then, show us the way." "Massa say quite sewer?" "Yes, quite sure. Now then, lead on." The black grinned at everybody in turn, and tramped along by the edge of the sluggish stream for some hundred yards before stopping short by the trampled bank which was plainly marked, and the commencement of a rough path was seen running in amongst the trees. The lieutenant gave orders for the men to land, a couple of boat-keepers were left, and the well-armed crew were ready for starting when a black face suddenly presented itself peering round a good-sized tree-trunk and gazing curiously at the newcomers. Murray was the first to catch sight of the fresh comer and draw the lieutenant's attention to his appearance. "Is this one of your men, you sir?" cried the chief officer, and he pointed down the winding path. The black stared for a moment or two before following the direction of the officer's pointing hand. Then catching sight of his fellow black he uttered a yell, raised his hoe in both hands, and sent the heavy iron implement whirling along the path, to be brought up with a crash against a good-sized tree. But before it came in contact with the trunk the black at whom it was aimed sprang in among the bushes and disappeared, while the guide trotted on to where the hoe had fallen and picked it up, shouting in through the thick growth-- "You let me catch you 'way from your work, you ugly, lazy, black rasclum, I crack you cocoanut!" Then striking the haft of the hoe he had picked up against the tree-trunk to tighten the loosened head, he turned again to the approaching boat crew. "Lazy black rasclum," cried the grinning guide, as if for the benefit of all the newcomers. "Jupe gib um toco catch him again. Massa come along now.--Black dog! Let me catch um again!" The lieutenant frowned and glanced at the two midshipmen, who were exchanging glances which meant a great deal. Then with a shrug of his shoulders he made a sign to the black guide to go on, a sign which was grasped at once, and the fellow stepped out with his heavy hoe shouldered and a grin at the lads. "Jupe make um run fas'," he said. "Jupe teach um leave um work!" "Look sharp, sir, and show the way," cried the chief officer angrily. "Yes, massa; yes, massa," cried the fellow, grinning. "Jupe show massa de way. Jupe de boy teach de black fella do de work. Lazy rasclum. Ketchum 'sleep under tree." "Here, May," cried the lieutenant angrily, "take this black brute forward a dozen yards and make him show the way and hold his tongue the while." "Ay, ay, sir!" growled the sailor, with a grim look, as giving his musket a hitch and then turning it in his hands he brought the butt roughly against the guide's chest. "Now then, Ebony," he cried, "for'ard it is, and drop all that there palaver. Lead on and show the way." "Yes, sah; Jupe show de--" "D'yer hear, you black swab!" cried the sailor. "Show the way to your master's house, and keep that talking box of yours shut up, or--" May made an offer at the black as if to bring the butt of the musket he carried down upon his toes, and accompanied it with so meaning a look that the guide's eyes opened widely and he was in the act of making a dash sidewise into the cane brake at the side, but the sailor's free hand came down upon the fellow's shoulder with a loud clap. "Ah, would you!" he cried. "None of that! Bullets run faster than legs, my lad." "That will do, May," cried the lieutenant; "but mind he does not slip through your fingers." "No, sir; right, sir," said the sailor, keeping a firm grip upon the black's shoulder and seeming to steer him in and out along the windings of the rough track, while the boat's crew and officers followed behind. "The black fellow disgusted me, gentlemen," said the lieutenant, turning a glance at the lads. "Jack in office generally proves to be the worst tyrant." The distance from the creek proved far greater than the officers expected, and they threaded the forest for hours before they came upon cultivated plantations dotted with black figures hard at work, and evidently superintended by men of the same type as the guide, who moved forward quietly and quite cowed by the stern-looking seaman who had him in custody, and who at last stopped short pointing at a long, low, well-built house half hidden amongst the trees and beautiful enough to raise an exclamation from Murray. "Yes, the place looks beautiful enough," said the lieutenant, "but I'm afraid its beauty depends upon the supply of poor wretches who are forced to labour beneath the burning sun with the lash as a stimulus whenever they show signs of slackening. Oh, here we are," continued the speaker. "Is this the redoubtable Mr Huggins?" "No, sir; I should say it would be Mr Allen," replied Murray. "Yes, you must be right, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant. "He looks more like a sick man than the owner of a slave plantation." For a quiet, subdued-looking individual in white cotton garments had stepped out of a wide window with green painted open jalousies, to take off his Panama straw hat and stand screening his eyes with his hand. The next minute the officer had halted his men in front of the place, and May touched his hat. "Let the prisoner go, sir?" "Yes: we can find our way back;" and as the sailor slackened his grasp and gave his head a jerk in the direction of the well-tilled fields, the black made a bound and dashed off, turning sharply before reaching the edge of the trees which backed up the house and seemed to shelter a range of buildings, to raise his hoe and shake it threateningly at the sailor. "That man ought not to behave in this way," said the gentleman who had stepped out. "Has he been insolent to you, sir?" "More unpleasant than insolent," replied the lieutenant. "I have required him for a guide to find your house, sir." "Ah!" said the former speaker slowly, as he looked slowly round. "You are an officer from one of the King's ships?" "Yes, sir; exactly so," replied the gentleman addressed. "And I presume that your ship is off the island. Can I be of any service to you?" "Well, yes," said Mr Anderson, "by giving me the information I am seeking." "I shall be glad to do so, sir, of course. May I ask what you require?" "Information about the slaving that is carried on here. I see you employ many slaves." The stranger winced slightly, and then bowed his head. "Yes," he said; "I have a large tract of cultivated land here in sugar, cotton and a little coffee, but I have a right to employ slave labour after the fashion of many of my fellow-countrymen." "No doubt, sir," said the lieutenant firmly, while the two midshipmen and the boat's crew stood listening and looking on--"slaves born upon your estate." The owner of the plantation winced again, and then in a nervous hesitating way continued-- "I have employed slave labour for many years now, sir, and I hope with humanity and quite in accordance with the law." "I am sorry to say, sir," said the lieutenant, "that my captain has been otherwise informed. He has been given to understand that at this plantation and in connection herewith a regular trade in the unfortunate blacks is systematically carried on." "Do I understand, sir," said the planter, in the same low hesitating fashion, "that you are connected with one of the King's ships whose object is to suppress the slave-trade?" "Yes, sir; that is quite right." "Will you step in, sir?" said the planter. "You are heated with your walk in the hot sun, and your men must need refreshment." The lieutenant shrugged his shoulders and said gravely, "I am here, sir, to do my duty." "Yes, of course, sir," said the planter; "and I beg you will not think that I am trying to bribe you in any way. I am not surprised at this visit. I have expected it for years. I am sorry, sir, but I must own it: I am not my own master." At this moment another figure appeared upon the scene in the shape of a little thin yellow-complexioned man, dressed like the planter in white cotton, and wearing a similar hat of Panama make. He stepped out of the French window where the late speaker had appeared, but with a quick, eager movement, and as he stood glancing sharply round the lieutenant and the midshipmen simultaneously gave a start which seemed to be communicated to the whole of the party, and with a thrill of excitement running through him Murray whispered sharply-- "Our friend the Yankee, Dick!" "Yes," whispered back that individual, "and we're going to hold him tight." As for the lieutenant, he took a couple of steps forward, and exclaimed in a sarcastic tone of voice-- "How do, sir! I think we have met before." _ |
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