Chapter 10

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_ CHAPTER TEN.

Those were busy times at the settlement, where the crops and everything else were neglected so that all hands might work at the block-house, or fort, it was determined to build, so as to have a place to flee to in case of attack, and the fight going against us.

Wood was plentiful enough, and the _chip-chop_ of the axes was heard all day long, willing hands toiling hard, so that at the end of a week a strong wooden breastwork was contrived; and this, as the time went by, was gradually improved, sheds and huts being run up within for shelter from the dews and rain, and for store-places in case we were besieged.

But the weeks went by, and the Spaniards made no sign, and as far as we could tell were not likely to. Still the General did not relax his efforts; outposts and guards did duty; a well was dug inside the fort, and stores were gathered in, but no enemies came, and their visit began to seem like a bit of history.

My father and Morgan had walked over with me to the fort every morning, and there gentlemen toiled beside the ordinary labourers and the slaves; but no fresh alarm came, and at last we were back at the house regularly, and time was devoted to making up for the past neglect, Morgan bemoaning the state of the garden most piteously.

I suppose I must have been about fifteen years old then, but cannot be sure. All I know is that the whole business stands out vividly in my mind, as if it had taken place yesterday. In fact I can sit down, close my eyes, and recall nearly the whole of my boyish life on the river, with the scenes coloured by memory till they seem to grow. At such times it seems to me that I can actually breathe in the sweet lemony odour of the great laurel-leaved flowers borne on what, there, were often great trees dotted with blossoms which looked like gigantic creamy-white tulips, one of which great magnolias flourished at the end of our house.

On the day of which I am speaking, Morgan Johns, our serving-man and general hand, for there was nothing he was not ready to do, came and told my father that there was a schooner in the river, adding something which my father shook his head over and groaned. This, of course, made me open my ears and take an interest in the matter at once.

"Well, sir, look you," said Morgan, "I'll do as much as I can, but you keep on fencing in more and more land, and planting more and more trees."

"Yes, I do, Morgan," said my father, apologetically; "but see how different it is to cold, mountainous North Wales."

"North Wales is a very coot country, sir," said Morgan, severely. "No man should look down on the place of his birth."

"Nobody does, Morgan. I often long to see Snowdon, and the great ridge of blue mountains growing less and less till they sink into the sea."

"Ah," said Morgan, enthusiastically, and speaking more broadly, "it's a fery coot country is Wales. Where are your mountains here?"

"Ah, where are they, Morgan? The place is flat enough, but see how rich and fat the soil is."

"Yes, it's fery good," said Morgan, growing more English.

"And see how things grow."

"Yes; that's the worst of them, sir; they grow while you're looking at them; and how can one man fight against the weeds, which grow so fast they lift your coat off the ground?"

"In time, Morgan, in time," said my father. "Yes, sir, in time. Ah, well, I'll work till I die, and I can't do any more."

"No, Morgan," said my father, quietly, "you cannot do any more."

"The other gentlemen who came out don't mind doing it, and their little estates are in better order than ours."

"No, Morgan," said my father, decisively, "I will not have that. Nobody had such fruit as we did last year."

"Well, master," said our old servant, with his hard, dry face brightening up into a smile, "I think we can beat them all round; but if you are going on enclosing fresh clearings from the forest, I must have more help." My father shook his head and Morgan went on, "The other gentlemen are going aboard, one after another; why don't you go too, sir?"

"If I went, it would be to try to put a stop to it, Morgan, and cry shame on my neighbours for what they are doing."

"Ah, well, master, I've done," said Morgan. "I'll work till I drop, and I can do no more."

My father turned to the old-fashioned desk he had brought from home, and went on writing a letter, while, after giving him a look full of vexation, our man gave his straw hat a flop against his side, and went out.

I was not long in following and overtaking him by the rough fence which enclosed our garden.

"Morgan! Morgan!" I cried.

"Well, Master George, boy, what is it?"

"What did you want father to do?"

"Go and ask him."

"No, I shan't; I shall ask you. Did you want him to buy something to help in the garden?"

Morgan looked at me quietly and nodded.

"What was it?--a new spade?"

"Nay, boy; but people to use spades and hoes--'specially the last."

"But you can't buy people."

"Can't you, boy?"

"Only slaves. Oh, I say, Morgan! I know; you wanted father to buy some slaves."

"Ay, boy, that's it. Every one else here's doing it, so why shouldn't we?"

"I don't know," I said, thoughtfully. "I know this," I cried; "that schooner that came into the river has got slaves on board."

"That's right, Master George, boy. Cargo of blacks from the Guinea coast, and our neighbours are buying 'em so fast that there won't be one left if we want any."

"We don't want any," I said, indignantly.

"No, Master George, boy, so your father said; and I'm going to ask him to graft me."

"To graft you?"

"Ay, my lad, with a row of extra arms all down each side, like that picture of the Injin idol in your book."

"What nonsense, Morgan!"

"Oh, I don't know, Master George. One pair of hands can't do the work here. Wants a dozen pair, seems to me. Well, I've done my dooty. I told master there was a chance to get some slaves."

"And of course my father would not buy slaves," I said, indignantly.

"No, sir; and the house and plantations I've took such pride in will all go to ruin now."

"Morgan!"

We both started and looked round to see my father standing in the rough porch of rugged oak-wood.

The man went up to him.

"You have made me uneasy about all this," he said, thoughtfully. "I will go on board the schooner, and see who is there among my neighbours. I should like to interfere if I could."

"Better not, sir. May make bad blood after."

"Morgan!" cried my father, so sternly that the man drew himself up as if he were on parade, and his old officer were in uniform. "Do not forget yourself, sir. Go and unloose the boat. You can row me on board."

Morgan saluted and went away, while my father began to walk up and down the sandy path among his flowers. I waited a bit, and then went hesitatingly up to him. For a few minutes he did not notice me, and I saw that his lips were pressed close together, and his brow wrinkled.

"Ah, George," he said at last, and he laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Going out in the boat, father?"

"Yes, my boy."

"Take me too."

He looked at me quickly, and shook his head.

"But I should like to go, father."

"My boy," he said, "I am going on board a ship lying in the river--a vessel used by cruel-hearted men for trafficking in their fellow-creatures."

"Yes, I know, father," I said; "a slaver."

He frowned a little, but went on.

"I am going to see if I can do any good among my friends and neighbours. It would be no proper sight for you."

I felt disappointed, but when my father spoke in that firm, quiet way, I knew that he meant every word he said, and I remained silent, but followed him as he took his hat and stick and walked slowly down to the little landing-place, where Morgan was already seated in the boat with the painter held in one hand, passed just round the trunk of the nearest tree, and ready to slip as soon as my father stepped on board.

A slight motion of an oar sent the stern of the boat close in to the bank, my father stepped in, the painter was slipped, and the boat yielded to the quick current, and began to glide away.

But just then my father raised his head, saw me standing there disconsolate, and said aloud--

"Would you very much like to come, George?"

"Oh, yes, father," I shouted; and he made a sign. Morgan pulled his left-hand oar, and I forced my way through the dense undergrowth to reach the spot where the boat was being pulled in, fifty yards down stream.

It was hard work, and I had not gone far through the dense leafage, and over the soft, spongy, river-soaked bank, before there was a rush and a scuffle, followed by a splash, and though I saw nothing, I knew that it was a small alligator, taking refuge in the water after a night's wandering ashore.

I had heard these sounds so often, and was so accustomed to the dread shown by the reptiles, that I did not hesitate to go on, and soon after reached the place where Morgan was holding on by the overhanging bushes, drawing the boat so close in that I easily stepped down on to one of the thwarts, giving my father a bright, eager look, but he did not see it; so taking one of the oars, I sat down behind our man, and rowed hard till our boat glided out of the mouth of the stream which ran through my father's property, and reached the turbid waters of the great river.

As we passed out of the mouth of our stream, and round the bushes on the point, there lay the schooner a couple of hundred yards away, anchored in the middle, with her long raking masts tapering in the sunshine, and the great spars glistening and bright as if freshly greased.

She was low in the water, and as I looked over my shoulder, I caught sight of a boat just pushing off to go down stream, and noted that she was rowed by some of our neighbours, and had black men on board.

I saw my father give a quick look in the direction of the boat, and frown, but he did not speak, and we rowed on.

As we neared the schooner I more than once became conscious of a peculiar offensive odour, that I thought must be something coming up with the tide; but I was too much interested in the slaver to give more than a passing thought to such a matter, and my eagerness and excitement increased as we drew near. For I heard loud voices, and saw our nearest neighbour close to the side, talking to a hard-looking, deeply-bronzed man. Then one of the sailors threw us a rope; we made fast, my father stepped on board, and I followed.

"Better take the other two I've got, colonel, and clear me out," said the bronzed man.

"No, I think not," said Colonel Preston, who had exchanged a short nod with my father, and he turned to where a dejected-looking group of negroes, both men and women, were standing on the deck close to the open hold.

"Better alter your mind; make your black hay while the sun shines. I may never come up your river again. I'll throw in the other two dirt cheap."

I felt the colour come into my cheeks, and then felt how pitiful it was for the miserable, drooping, nearly nude creatures to be sold like that; but my attention was taken up directly by my father's looks and the colonel's words as he said, sternly--

"No; six are all I want, and it seems to me that half of these will die before I have had them long ashore."

"No; they'll soon pick up. We've had a rough crossing," said the slaver captain, "and the quarters are a bit close. We ran short of water too, and a tidy lot died, and made the others bad. You give 'em time, and that lot 'll turn out as cheap as anything you ever bought. You should have seen them when they first came aboard--lively and spry as could be. Have the other two. Hi! Below there!" he continued, as he went to the open hold, and boy-like I stepped forward, full of curiosity, to look down too.

But I started back in horror, as a hot puff of the revolting odour I had previously noticed came up from below.

"Ah, not very sweet, youngster," said the slaver captain, with a laugh. "Going to brimstone it out well as soon as I've made a clearance. Got two more, haven't you?"

"Ay," came up in a growl.

"Man and woman, eh?"

"Boy and a man," came up.

"Send 'em on deck."

There was a pause, during which I heard from below--"Now then! Up with you!" and the sound of blows, which made me draw a long breath, and I was going back once more to the hold when I felt my father's hand upon my shoulder, and saw as I looked up that he was deadly pale.

"Hoist 'em up there!" shouted the captain, and a rope rove through a block was lowered down.

"How can you join in this cursed business, Preston?" said my father in a low tone to our neighbour.

"I was going to ask you that," said the colonel, coldly.

"Me? Ask me?"

"Yes, sir; you have come on board to buy slaves, I suppose, with the rest of us?"

"I deny it," said my father, flashing out, as he drew himself up. "I came on board, too late it seems, to try and prevail upon my brother emigrants--English gentlemen of birth and position--to discountenance this hateful traffic in the bodies of our fellow-creatures."

"We must have men to work if our colony is to succeed, Captain Bruton."

"Oh!" ejaculated my father, and then in a low voice, as his eyes rested on the group of poor black wretches huddled together, I heard him say, "It is monstrous!"

At that moment a couple of sailors began to haul at the rope run through the block; it tightened, and with a cheery "Yo-ho!" they ran up what seemed to be the dead body of a big negro, whose head and arms hung down inert as he was hoisted on high; the spar to which the block was fastened swung round, the rope slackened, and the poor wretch plumped down on the deck, to lie motionless all of a heap.

"Not in very good fettle," said the slave captain, curtly; "but he'll come round."

The rope was cast loose from the negro's chest, lowered down again, and I gazed from the poor wretch lying half or quite dead on the deck, to my father, and back again, noting that he was very pale, biting his lower lip, and frowning in a way that I knew of old meant a storm.

"Now then, up with him!" shouted the captain.

"Ay, ay, but look out, or he'll be overboard. He's lively as an eel," came from below.

"Right!" said the captain; and he took up a small line and held it ready in both hands.

The rope tightened; there was a cheery "Yo-ho!" and up came a black, impish-looking boy of about my own age, kicking, struggling, and tearing at the rope round his chest.

But it was all in vain; he was swung round, held suspended with his feet just clear of the deck, and his wrists were caught in a loop of the line bound together, his ankles were served the same, and the lad was dropped on the deck to lie writhing like some wild animal, showing his teeth, and watching us all in turn with his rolling eyes.

"Come," said the slave captain, laughingly turning to Colonel Preston; "he's lively enough to make up for the other. Better have 'em. I'll throw them in for next to nothing."

"No," said our neighbour, coldly. "That man is dying, and the boy would be of no use to me."

"The man is not dying," said the slave captain roughly, "but he soon will be if you don't have him. As for this shaver, he's about as near being an imp as we can find. Keep away, my lad, or he may bite you."

This was to me, as I approached the boy, who showed his teeth at me like a vicious dog.

"Going to have 'em, colonel?"

"No; once more, no," said the colonel, sternly. "I am only waiting for my boat."

"All right, sir, I don't go begging. What do you say?" he continued, turning to my father. "Will you buy those two?"

"I?" cried my father, angrily; "buy my fellow-creatures for slaves?"

"Oh, no, of course not," said the slave captain. And then to himself, but I heard him, "Too good a man, I suppose.--Sorry you won't have 'em, colonel.--Heave 'em down."

The men on deck advanced to the insensible negro, and were in the act of stooping to pass the rope once more about his chest, when my father, who could bear the scene no longer, said quietly--

"Do you not see that man is dying?"

"Yes, sir. Altered your mind? You can have the two a bargain."

"Bah!" exclaimed my father, fiercely. "Man, have you no heart, no feeling?"

"Not that I know of, sir. This trade would take it out of any one."

"But the poor creature's lips are dried up. He wants water."

"He'll have plenty to-night, sir," said the slave captain, with a laugh. "Down with him, my lads."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the men; the rope was passed round the negro, and the men seized the end to haul.

"I can't bear it," I heard my father say in a whisper; and then aloud--"Stop!"

"Eh? What for?"

"I will buy the man," said my father.

"And the boy?"

"N--"

"Yes, yes," I shouted, excitedly.

My father turned upon me with an angry look, but he seemed to read mine, and his face changed.

"Yes," he said, quietly.

"Right, and a good riddance," said the captain, laughing, as he held out his hand for the money my father began to count out. "I don't mind telling you now, sir; if you hadn't bought him, he'd have been dead enough to-night; but you get him ashore and take care of him, and he'll come round--he will indeed; I'm not tricking you. It's wonderful what a deal these niggers will bear. There, I like to deal square," he added, as he thrust the money in his pocket. "Smithers, shove a chain on that boy's legs, and another on the man's."

"Ay, ay, sir."

"No, no, for Heaven's sake, no," cried my father.

"Oh, just as you like," said the slave captain. "I was going to give you the shackles; only I warn you, if you don't have them on, that man as soon as you revive him will make for the river and drown himself, and the boy will be off into the woods."

"Do what is best," said my father, and the shackles were put on.

"Shall we hoist them into the boat for you?"

"If you please," said my father, coldly.

"Heave ahead, my lads," cried the slave captain; "and below there, get those brimstone-pans going at once."

"Ay, ay," came from below, and I saw a lighted lanthorn passed down as my father's two slaves were hoisted over the side, and lowered into the boat, where Morgan stood ready with a grim smile upon his lip.

"You'll get yours home first, Bruton," said Colonel Preston, coming to my father's side; "my boat's all behind. I say, neighbour, don't preach at me any more. You're as bad as any of us, and I'm glad you've come to your senses at last."

My father gave him a peculiar look, and then glanced at the group of slaves destined for the Preston property, where they stood huddled together quite apathetic and hopeless-looking.

The next minute we were at the gangway, and as I passed down, I saw three rough-looking men coming up out of the hold, and a thin bluish vapour began to curl up before they smothered it down by rapidly covering the opening and drawing over it a well-tarred canvas.

Very soon after I was in the boat, stooping to take an oar, and gazing at the stern, where the man lay as if dead, and the boy, whose bonds had been secured to the thwart, lay glaring at me viciously, and had taken hold of the edge of the boat in his white teeth; and directly after, as we rowed away from the floating horror upon whose deck we had so lately stood, there came the regular beat of oars, and I saw Colonel Preston's boat, which had evidently been ashore with one load, coming back for the other poor wretches and their owner.

"Why, hang me!" said a voice, evidently not intended for our ears, "if that puritanical Captain Bruton hasn't been buying niggers too."

The calm water bears sound to a great distance.

I saw my father wince a little, and he turned to me bending down, so that his lips were pretty close to my ear.

"Yes," he said, "Captain Bruton has been buying niggers too."

"No, no, father," I said, looking up; "one of them is mine."

"And what are you going to do with him?" he said, slowly, as his eyes seemed to search mine.

"Do with him, father?" I said, promptly. "Let him go." _

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