Up to that instant I had not looked back towards the burning barque. I
would rather not have done so. I dreaded to look back; moreover, I was
so eagerly employed in helping to propel our floating plank that I had
scarce time for looking around.
Now, however, I was constrained to raise my head and glance back upon
that terrific spectacle. It explained at once why the crew of the
_Pandora_ were so eager to be gone from the spot.
The fire had burned forward to the stump of the main-mast, and, fed by
the large quantities of black pitchy ropes--the shrouds, stays, and
ratlines--was sending up strong bursts of smoky flame. Red tongues were
shooting out forward, as if to grasp the rigging of the fore-mast that
still stood untouched. But the most singular, or rather the most awful,
part of the scene was that presented on the foredeck and the whole
forward part of the ship. Upon the windlass, the bulwarks, the
fore-mast shrouds, around the head, and out to the bowsprit-end, was a
continuous swarm of human forms, so thickly clustered that scarce any
part of the vessel could be seen, except the fore-mast, with its spars
and rigging towering high above. Five hundred there were--perhaps not
so many--as some of them, happily for themselves, had gone out of the
world before that dread hour. But nearly five hundred there were, and
of course they covered every part of the forward deck, and even the
sides and bulwarks, from the selvage of the approaching flames to the
bowsprit-end. Some had gone out even farther, and could be seen
swarming like bees and balancing their bodies on the jib-boom. In fact,
but for its awful character, the scene suggested the hiving of bees that
had crowded every leaf and twig upon the branch of a tree.
Both males and females were there--for both had succeeded in making
their way on deck--but amid that thick swarm their sex could not be
distinguished. Strange to say, they were no longer black! Not one of
them looked black--on the contrary, they appeared red! Their faces, the
skin of their naked bodies, even the woolly coverture of their crowns,
showed blood-red under the glaring light of the blazing pitch; and this
singular transformation added not a little to rendering the scene more
terrific--for there was something supernatural in this altered
complexion.
The whole scene might have been compared to the final of some grand
theatrical spectacle--it had all the grandeur, the red light, and the
scenic embellishment--but in two circumstances it widely differed from
the fictitious imitation. There was not that variety of forms and
colours in the tableaux, and, moreover, the characters were not as upon
the stage--in poses and attitudes that betokened rest. On the contrary,
all were in motion. Their arms were tossing wildly above their heads,
while they themselves were leaping upward or dancing to and fro wherever
they could find footing. They were shouting in tones of despair,
screaming in agonised accents; while some, who had evidently gone mad,
were gibbering and laughing in voices that bore a striking resemblance
to that of the hyena!
The strong light enabled me to trace everything minutely--alas, too
minutely! I could see the white gleaming teeth, the frothing lips, the
eyes glaring in madness or terror. We were still scarce a cable's
length from them. I could note every movement as if I had been in their
midst, or within ten feet of them. They all stood fronting in the
direction of the raft; and for this reason I could note their gestures,
and even distinguish the expression upon their features.
Among other things I saw women--I knew they were women only from their
being smaller than those around--I saw women lift up little dark forms
as high as they could raise them, and hold them out in the direction of
the raft. They were their children, their infant piccaninnies, and this
was intended as a supplication to the white runaways to come back and
save them. Others stretched forth their arms and stood in attitudes of
entreaty; while men--the stronger and fiercer ones--shook their clenched
fists in the air and hurled after us loud cries of menace.
Awe-inspiring as was the spectacle, it was neither the threats of the
men nor the supplications of the women that was causing all commotion
among the crew on the raft.
Part of the blaspheming and loud talk that could be heard there arose
from anger that the blacks had been let out; and we could hear several
voices inquiring, in harsh angry tones. "Who has done it? Who has done
it?"
These questions were not asked simply thus, but with the embellishments
of horrid oaths and exclamations that cannot be repeated.
It was just as my companion and I were parting from the bows, that we
heard these questions asked, and so earnest was the tone of the
inquirers, that I at once saw that I had placed myself in a position of
danger.
It appeared that I had committed an imprudence. My humanity had hurried
me to an act that could be of no service in saving the lives of those I
intended to benefit, but was likely to bring destruction upon all--
myself among the rest.
I can scarce say that I repented of what I had done. I should have done
the same deed again. I could have not restrained myself. I had
followed the promptings of mercy. How could I have acted otherwise?
I had such reflections at the moment, or something like them. I cannot
exactly describe my thoughts, for a tumult of strange emotions was
passing through my mind.
I now perceived the danger which threatened the two rafts: I perceived
it on looking back toward burning the vessel: the blacks were
threatening to swim after, and seek refuge upon the rafts. Large
numbers of them showed that they had formed this intention. It was
apparent from their movements and attitudes. They were swarming over
the bulwarks and down the sides. They had gathered along the beam-ends
and seemed every moment on the eve of launching their bodies into the
water!