You desire an explanation? You wish to know how the _Pandora_ was
destroyed?
In the closing passages of the preceding chapter, I ran ahead of my
narrative. I shall now return to it.
The night came down still, but not silent; at least not silent on board
the slave-ship. The cries of the ill-fated beings below still loaded
the air--their voices growing hoarser and hoarser. The ruffians might
cage their bodies, but they could not confine their tongues; and ever
and anon rose that awful din, pealing along the decks, and echoing far
out over the still bosom of the waters.
It seemed at length to grow unendurable, even to the men; and those, who
had before advocated throwing the slaves overboard, once more proposed
adopting this course. The unexpected obstruction from the calm now
added force to their arguments. They alleged that there was no chance
of the niggers holding out. They would all be dead in a couple of
days--by suffocation as well as thirst--and why not settle the business
at once? They had now to look out sharply for their own lives, and
better they should not be bothered any longer with these squalling
brutes. (This was literally the language of one of those who advocated
the drowning of them.) It was enough to drive a man mad to hear them,
and it would be only mercy to them (much the ruffian cared for mercy) to
make short work of it, and then the poor devils would have it over at
once. This was the compassionate speech of one.
Another followed in a like strain, and said, interrogatively, "After all
what did it amount to? The cargo was not such a great matter so long as
the ship was safe? What signified all the niggers had cost? What they
might fetch was another matter; but a man could not call that a loss
which he had never had; and, therefore, all the loss the skipper should
sustain would be the original outlay. It wasn't a million. He would
soon repair the damage. Once they got the casks filled, they could
return to Africa, and King Dingo was the man to find them a fresh cargo.
Perhaps he would let them have it on credit, if they couldn't do better
(at this improbability several laughed); but the skipper need not go a
begging for credit. He was not so easily broken up as that came to. If
he himself was short, he had friends in Brazil--ay, and in Portsmouth,
too--who would soon find him the rhino."
The speech of this able logician turned the scale and settled the
question; and, despite the protestations and entreaties of the
slave-captain and one or two others, it was decided that the negroes
should be thrown overboard!
A few minutes were now given to a discussion as to the mode of effecting
this purpose; and it was finally agreed that the best way would be to
remove a single bar from the grating--so that only one of the victims
could come up at a time--and then, taking each aft out of sight of the
hatchway--so that they might not be seen by the others--to seize one
after another and cast them into the sea, whence there would be no fear
of their returning. Doubtless many of them could not swim a stroke, and
those that could would not swim long, amidst that multitude of voracious
sharks that were beating around the barque!
The ruse of thus successively destroying the wretched victims, without
making known to their companions below, originated in no ideas of
mercy--it was a thought that sprang from simple convenience. The
monsters knew that if those below were to get wind of the fate that
awaited them above, they would no longer come on deck; and to have gone
down amongst them to bring them up would have given trouble, and might
have been attended with danger.
It was heartbreaking to listen to the details of their plan, and know
that I could neither obstruct nor prevent it. Had I put in my voice,
either to appeal or protect the unfortunates, it is likely enough I
should have been myself the first morsel given to the sharks. I could
do nought but suffer in silence.
Indeed, I am not sure, had it been in my power at that moment to prevent
them from carrying out their design, whether it would have been right to
interfere. Clearly it would not have served the cause of humanity. A
death of some kind was certainly in store for these ill-starred beings--
either a slow, lingering death by the torture of thirst, or one more
rapid and far less cruel, such as that they were about to undergo. It
might have been humanity to leave the ruffians to carry out their
intent, and shorten the sufferings of their black victims by the easier
death of drowning.
I had such a reflection at the moment, but I had no time to dwell upon
it, for just then a rush of men towards the slave-hatchway told me that
the monsters were actually on the way to carry out their diabolical
purpose!
They were on their way, and would have proceeded in their intent. The
carpenter was there with his axe to strike off one of the bars of the
grating--he had already given a blow on the batten, another would have
been enough--and then the horrid scene would have begun; but at that
moment a cry came from the after-part of the vessel that caused the
carpenter to suspend his work, and look up in dismay. Those who
surrounded him were startled as well as he, and all looked aft with
terror painted in their faces. One and all were terrified by that cry,
and no wonder they were--it was the cry, of "fire!" The ship was on
fire!