THE NEGRO VILLAGE ON THE ISLE GRANDE TERRE
The commander of the Bronx had explained his plan to the first
lieutenant. There was nothing especially perilous in the expedition to
be sent out; and it was the policy of Christy to keep the steamer out of
sight of the fort, and of those in the immediate vicinity of it. After
the Bronx had been on her course about two hours, and four bells had
just struck, the leadsman reported two fathoms. A little later eleven
feet was the depth.
"Quartermaster, strike one bell," said Christy.
"One bell, sir," repeated the petty officer at the wheel.
"Ten feet!" shouted the man at the lead.
"Strike three bells," added the commander; and the steamer began to back
her screw.
As soon as the Bronx had lost her headway, the screw was stopped, and
a drift lead was dropped into the water. A sharp lookout had been kept,
and some flickering lights had been reported. The weather had become
cloudy since noon, but there was no fog and no wind.
"You will let Mr. Pennant command this expedition, Mr. Flint," said
Christy. "He will take the first cutter, with ten men, including
Quartermaster Vincent and Bornhoff."
The third lieutenant was sent for, and his instructions were given to
him. Mike would be his pilot, and could give him such information as he
required in regard to the locality. He was to land in some convenient
locality, cross the island on foot at the plantation, to Fort Lafitte,
distant less than a mile, and ascertain if there were a steamer or other
vessels in the bay. He was also instructed to use all means in his power
to ascertain the strength of the fort. He was to make a landing about
half a mile west of the plantation buildings.
Within the limits of these instructions, he was to act on his own
judgment. Mike was sent for, and further information in regard to the
course was obtained from him. The officer was cautioned to be prudent,
and not fall into any traps. If he discovered that there was a steamer
in the bay, and that the fort was not heavily armed, he was to burn a
red roman candle as a signal to the Bronx, which would proceed to the
southward, and then enter the Grand Pass by the deepest water.
"Where are the negro quarters of this plantation, Mike?" asked Mr.
Pennant.
"Just west of the big house, sir," replied the Russian.
"I don't know exactly where we are now, Captain Passford," said the
officer of the expedition.
"We lie about south of what Mike calls the big house, a mile and a half
distant from it. Make the boat's course north north-west, and you will
strike the shore about half way between the planter's house and the
fort. But when you get near enough to see both of them, you can land
where you think best," Christy explained.
The boat's crew had already lowered the first cutter into the water. The
oars were muffled, for the chances were that no one in the vicinity of
the plantation had discovered the presence of the Bronx, and it was not
advisable to alarm the people. Vincent acted as cockswain of the boat,
while the Russian, as most of the officers and men insisted upon calling
him, was seated in the stern sheets with the third lieutenant. The eight
men at the oars formed the rest of the crew.
"I don't believe you will find many hands down here, Mr. Pennant," said
Mike in a whisper.
"What do you mean by hands?" asked the officer.
"Laborers, niggers," replied the Russian.
"Why not?"
"I expect they have sent all the strong ones up to work on the
fortifications."
"Shall we find no one at the negro quarters?" asked the lieutenant with
interest.
"Only the women and the old hands, too old to do much work."
"Can you make out where you are, Mike?" inquired Mr. Pennant, after
about half a mile had been made.
"I can just see the fort and the big house. It is not so very dark
to-night," answered the Russian.
The course was believed to be correct for the point indicated by the
captain, and in less than half an hour the boat grounded; but the shore
was bold enough to enable the men to land. Mr. Pennant went to the
forward part of the boat and took a careful look all around him. All was
as silent as a tomb. Stepping into the fore-sheets, he leaped on shore,
directing the Russian to follow him.
"Vincent, you will remain in charge of the boat and the men," said the
third lieutenant, addressing the quartermaster. "I will explore the
island with Mike. I have the fireworks with me, and you will keep a
sharp lookout in the direction of the fort. If you see a light close to
the water, make for it as fast as you can. Do you understand me?"
"Perfectly, Mr. Pennant."
"But you need not expect any signal for a couple of hours, or even
three. If we get into trouble, we shall retreat upon the boat direct;
so keep your eyes wide open."
The officer led the way up the shore, and the rows of sugar-cane
extended almost to the water. They could make out the little village of
negro cabins which lay between them and the planter's house, and they
directed their steps towards it. It was but a short walk, and they soon
reached the lane that extended between the rows of huts.
The lieutenant took his two revolvers from his hip pockets, and examined
them as well as he could in the dark, and Mike did the same, for it was
necessary to be prepared for whatever might happen. The village was as
silent as though it were entirely deserted; but it was nearly midnight,
and doubtless they were asleep in the cabins. They entered one. It was
still and dark within the house. Mr. Pennant had brought with him a
small lantern, which he lighted where the glare of the match could not
be seen; but it revealed nothing to the inquirers.
Covering the lantern so that its light could not be seen, they followed
the lane between the two rows of cabins for some distance farther, and
then entered another. Like the first, it was deserted. They crossed to
the other side of the avenue, where they saw some signs that the cabin
was inhabited. Uncovering his lantern, Mr. Pennant threw the light upon
the interior. It contained two beds, and each of them was occupied by
two persons. In one were two silvered heads to be seen, while the other
displayed two heads that appeared to belong to women.
"Shut the door, Mike," said the officer, in order to prevent the light
from being seen.
"I think I know one of the old men," added the Russian as he returned
from the door, "Shall I wake him up?"
"Yes; but don't frighten him," replied Mr. Pennant.
"Uncle Job," said Mike, placing his hand on the shoulder of the sleeper
on the side of the bed nearest to him.
The head and hair of the old colored man were peculiar enough to enable
the Russian to identify him if he had ever seen him even once before.
His mouth was twisted to one side either naturally or by some injury,
and his kinky hair made him look as though he carried a great bale of
cotton on the top of his head. He opened his eyes when Mike shook him
gently, and looked at the two men at the side of his bed with a
wondering rather than an alarmed expression.
"Who dar?" inquired the negro.
"Good-morning, Uncle Job," replied Mike, taking the hand of the aged
colored person. "How is your health?"
"Don't hab no healf, massa," replied Job, gazing earnestly at the
intruder upon his slumbers.
"Don't you know me, Uncle Job?"
"'Pears like I do; I reckon you's Massa Cap'n Flanger."
"Not exactly; but I'm his man, Mike Bornhoff."
"Jes' so; you was born ob de debbil," replied the old negro, rising in
his bed, and showing all his remaining teeth in an expansive smile.
"He remembers me," said Mike turning to the lieutenant. "We have struck
the right man. But he don't mean that I am any wickeder than the rest of
the world. I used to be called here by my last name, and Job invented
the pun he has just used."
"Why do you say that we have struck the right man, Mike?" asked Mr.
Pennant, caring little for the former relations of the two men.
"Because, though he don't look it, he is the best posted nigger in these
parts. He is the wise man among his people, and a sort of leader among
them, and fetich man besides."
"All right; get him up if you can. Is he able to walk?"
"He is as tough as a he-bear, and can walk a hundred miles on a
stretch," replied Mike. "He knows everything that is going on in these
times."
The lieutenant had covered his lantern, for he did not wish to wake the
other sleepers in the cabin, after the description the Russian had given
of his man. Mike spoke in a low tone to him, and it did not take him
long to make his toilet, for he slept just as he was clothed during
the day. No one knew how old he was, but he was still brisk in his
movements. The officer led the way to one of the deserted cabins at a
considerable distance from the one occupied by Uncle Job.
No one was stirring in the vicinity, and the silence was as profound
as death itself. Not a word was said till they reached the cabin the
officer had selected, and when they had entered, he closed the door
behind them. The lantern was unveiled, and the lieutenant seated himself
upon a block of timber, of which there were several in the room.
"Now, Uncle Job, I want you to answer some questions," Mr. Pennant
began.
"'Pose I don't answer 'em?" suggested the negro.
"Then I shall put you in irons, and take you on board of the steamer,"
added the officer sternly.
"De steamer! wot's de steamer? Is't a Yankee gumboat?" demanded Uncle
Job, opening his eyes with wonder and astonishment.
"That's just what it is."
"Den I gib you all de answers you want," replied the negro with a
cheerful smile. "Whar de gumboat?"
"She is off the shore not far from here. Now you will answer my
questions. There is a fort here?"
"Yes, sar; ober dar," he replied, pointing to the west.
"How many men are there at the fort?"
"Only twenty, sar; all gone ober to New Orleans, sar."
"How many guns has it? I mean big guns, Uncle Job?"
"I done count only four ob dem w'en I was dar last time."
"Only four!" exclaimed Mr. Pennant. "Are you telling me the truth, Uncle
Job?"
"I neber spoke noffin but the truf, Massa Ossifer."
"Are those four very large,--long as this cabin is wide?" asked the
lieutenant with interest.
"No, sar!" exclaimed Job with energy.
"But they must have had very big guns."
"Yes, sar; but dey done tote 'em all ober to de Mis'sip Riber."
This seemed to be reasonable to the lieutenant, and in accordance
with the belief of his superiors on board of the Bronx, for no Union
man-of-war of any size could pass through the water courses to the great
river. It looked as though the big guns had been replaced with those of
smaller calibre.
Mr. Pennant put out the light in his lantern, and the party started to
cross the island.