A few days after coming to anchor Dutchy had communicated to me his
intention of deserting from the ship. He had made me his confidant, in
hopes that I might join him in the enterprise--for the poor fellow knew
there was not another on board who had ever spoken to him a word of
sympathy. This I had done, and, consequently, had won his regard. He
knew, moreover, that I, too was a persecuted victim; and, therefore,
believed I might be as willing as himself to get away beyond the reach
of the common tyrant. It is true I was so, but the advice of my patron
Brace had rendered me content to wait for a better opportunity--to wait
for our arrival upon the other side of the Atlantic. I had made up my
mind to endure till then; knowing that a voyage from the west coast of
Africa to the Brazils, the destination of the _Pandora_, would be but a
few weeks in duration, and confident, from what Brace had promised me,
that there I should part from the hated crew.
For these reasons I refused to accede to Dutchy's proposal, and
endeavoured to dissuade him from his design; advising him also to wait
for our arrival on the other side.
My counsels proved vain. Flesh and blood could stand it no longer. The
poor fellow had been persecuted to the utmost limit of endurance, until
he could endure no more; and, under the impulse of despair, he made his
fatal attempt.
One night, when nearly all on board were asleep, a plunge was heard
close by the side of the vessel, as of some one who had fallen or leaped
into the water. The cry of "a man overboard!" was heard from the few
who were awake on the watch; and echoed from mouth to mouth, till the
sleepers--most of whom were on deck in their hammocks--were aroused.
The night was almost as clear as day--for there was a full round moon in
the heavens; and up to this time there had been perfect stillness and
silence. The men, wondering who had gone overboard, rushed to the side,
and looked into the water. A small, black object above the surface
indicated the head of a man. It was in motion, and a slight plashing
noise, with the long ripple made upon the water, showed that some one
was in the river and swimming with all his might for the shore.
Perhaps some one had seen poor Dutchy as he made this fatal plunge, for
at that moment the cry was given out that it was he who was endeavouring
to escape.
Both mate and captain were on the alert. On account of the heat they,
too, had been sleeping in hammocks swung over the quarter-deck, and in a
moment they had sprung out upon their feet. Both ran to arm themselves;
and before the deserter had made half-way to the bank his tyrants were
leaning over the side, each grasping a loaded musket.
Either would have been in good time to have sent a bullet through the
unfortunate victim; but though his blood was to be on their heads, it
was not destined that he should die by their hands.
Before either had time to take aim, a second ripple was observed in the
water--running diagonally to that made by the swimmer--and at the head
of this ripple, and causing it, was seen a long dark, monster-like form.
"A crocodile! a crocodile!" shouted the men upon the barque.
Both captain and mate held their fire, and lowered their muskets. They
saw that the work would be done as well without them; and I am positive
that I perceived at that moment a grim smile of satisfaction on the
faces of both!
"Poor Dutchy!" cried a voice, "he'll never reach the bank! It's all up
with him--he'll be swallowed whole, bones, body and all. See!"
It was almost literally as the man had predicted. As he uttered the
final exclamation the dark monster--now within a few feet of its
victim--made a rapid dash forward, its long, notched back rose high
above the water; and seizing the swimmer between its strong, bony jaws,
commenced dragging him under. A wild scream of agony pealed from the
lips of the unfortunate man, that echoed afar into the surrounding
woods; but before the echoes had died away, the monster with its victim
had sunk beneath the surface; and a few bloodstained bubbles were all
that remained to mark the spot where the terrible incident had occurred.
"Served him right!" vociferated the captain, with a fearful oath;
"served him right, the good-for-nothing lumber--he's not much loss, we
can spare him, I dare say."
"Ay, ay!" assented the mate, also with the embellishment of an oath, and
then added:--
"A lesson to all runaways! If the son of a sea-cook had stayed where he
was he'd have missed that; but if the fool likes better to be in the
belly of a crocodile than the forecastle of a good ship, he's had his
choice. All I've got to say is, it's a queer craft he's chosen to ship
aboard o'."
The captain answered this sally with a horse laugh, in which he was
joined by several of the unfeeling crew; and then both mate and captain,
having restored their muskets to the rack, betook themselves once more
to their hammocks and fell asleep. The sailors, grouping round the
windlass, remained for awhile conversing upon the awful incidents that
had transpired, but the tone of the conversation proved that the
occurrence gave them but little concern. Some even laughed as they
talked; and jests were uttered as to whether Dutchy had made a will, and
who was to be heir to his "property." As the poor fellow in reality
possessed no property--his whole effects consisting of a few tattered
rags of dress, a tin platter, with an old knife, fork, and spoon--the
joke was all the more piquant, and the fellows laughed heartily at it.
It was finally agreed upon that they should "raffle" for Dutchy's "kit"
in the morning; and this point being settled, one by one dropped off,
some to sleep in their bunks in the forecastle, and others upon the deck
or in hammock slung to the spars and rigging.
All were soon asleep, and silence once more brooded over the scene. I
alone could not sleep, but stood looking over the side of the vessel, my
eyes fixed on the spot where the unfortunate man had been last seen.
There was nothing to guide the eye--not a trace of the short, sanguinary
struggle. The crimsoned froth had long since floated away, and the dark
wafer flowed on without even a ripple upon its surface; but for all that
I could still see with the eye of my fancy--that horrid picture--the
hideous monster, with its victim grasped transversely between its horrid
jaws, and I could still hear the scream of agony echoing far off in the
woods.
Of course it was but fancy. There was no sound stirring even of wind or
water. Above and around reigned an impressive stillness, as if Nature
herself, by that dread event, had been awed into silence!