So passed the day. As the sun sank is the west, I began to reflect
about obtaining the rest for mind and body I so much needed. My system
was almost exhausted by want of food and water, while the dreadful
tragedy of the preceding night shattered my nerves far more than they
ever suffered amid the trying scenes I have passed through since. It
was my _first_ adventure of peril and of blood; and my soul shrank
with the natural recoil that virtue experiences in its earliest
encounter with flagrant crime.
In order to escape the incessant torment of insects, I had just
determined to bury my naked body in the sand, and to cover my head
with the only garment I possessed, when I heard a noise in the
neighboring bushes, and perceived a large and savage dog rushing
rapidly from side to side, with his nose to the ground, evidently in
search of game or prey. I could not mistake the nature of his hunt.
With the agility of a harlequin, I sprang to my friendly perch just in
time to save myself from his fangs. The foiled and ferocious beast,
yelling with rage, gave an alarm which was quickly responded to by
other dogs, three of which--followed by two armed men--promptly made
their appearance beneath my tree. The hunters were not surprised at
finding me, as, in truth, I was the game they sought. Ordering me
down, I was commanded to march slowly before them, and especially
warned to make no attempt at flight, as the bloodhounds would tear me
to pieces on the spot. I told my guard that I should of course
manifest no such folly as to attempt as escape from _caballeros_ like
themselves,--upon a desolate sand key half a mile wide,--especially
when my alternative refuge could only be found among the fish of the
sea. The self-possession and good humor with which I replied, seemed
somewhat to mollify the cross-grained savages, and we soon approached
a habitation, where I was ordered to sit down until the whole party
assembled. After a while, I was invited to join them in their evening
meal.
The piquant stew upon which we fed effectually loosened their tongues,
so that, in the course of conversation, I discovered my pursuers had
been in quest of me since early morning, though it was hardly believed
I had either escaped the shot, or swam fully a mile amid sharks during
the darkness. Upon this, I ventured to put some ordinary questions,
but was quickly informed that inquisitiveness was considered very
unwholesome on the sand keys about Cuba!
At sunset, the whole piratical community of the little isle was
assembled. It consisted of two parties, each headed by its respective
chief. Both gangs were apparently subject to the leadership of the
_rancho's_ proprietor; and in this man I recognized the _patron_ who
inquired so minutely about my biography and prospects. His companions
addressed him either as "El senor patron" or "Don Rafael." I was
surveyed very closely by the picturesque group of bandits, who retired
into the interior of the _rancho_,--a hut made of planks and sails
rescued from wrecks. My guard or sentinel consisted of but a single
vagabond, who amused himself by whetting a long knife on a hone, and
then trying its sharpness on a single hair and then on his finger.
Sometimes the scoundrel made a face at me, and drew the back of his
weapon across his throat.
The conversation within, which I felt satisfied involved my fate, was
a long one. I could distinctly overhear the murmuring roar of talk,
although I could not distinguish words. One sentence, however, did
not escape me, and its signification proved particularly
interesting:--"_Los muertos_," said the French dandy,--"_no
hablan_,"--Dead men tell no tales!
It is hard to imagine a situation more trying for a young, hearty, and
hopeful man. I was half naked; my skin was excoriated by the sun,
sand, and salt water; four bloodhounds were at my feet ready to fasten
on my throat at the bidding of a _desperado_; a piratical sentry,
knife in hand, kept watch over me, while a jury of _buccaneers_
discussed my fate within earshot. Dante's Inferno had hardly more
torments.
The _filibustero_ conclave lasted quite an hour without reaching a
conclusion. At length, after an unusual clamor, the _patron_ Rafael
rushed from the _rancho_ with a horseman's pistol, and, calling my
name, whirled me behind him in his strong and irresistible grasp. Then
facing both hands, with a terrible imprecation, he swore vengeance if
they persisted in requiring the death of HIS NEPHEW!
At the mention of the word "_nephew_," every one paused with a look of
surprise, and drawing near the excited man with expressions of
interest, agreed to respect his new-found relative, though they
insisted I should swear never to disclose the occurrence of which I
had been an unwilling witness. I complied with the condition
unhesitatingly, and shook hands with every one present except the
sentry, of whom I shall have occasion to speak hereafter.
It is astonishing what revulsions of manner, if not of feeling, take
place suddenly among the class of men with whom my lot had now been
cast. Ten minutes before, they were greedy for my blood, not on
account of personal malice, but from utter recklessness of life
whenever an individual interfered with their personal hopes or tenure
of existence. Each one of these outlaws now vied with his companions
in finding articles to cover my nakedness and make me comfortable. As
soon as I was clothed, supper was announced and I was given almost a
seat of honor at a table plentifully spread with fresh fish, sardines,
olives, ham, cheese, and an abundance of capital claret.
The chat naturally turned upon me, and some sly jokes were uttered at
the expense of Rafael, concerning the kinsman who had suddenly sprung
up like a mushroom out of this pool of blood.
"_Caballeros!_" interposed Rafael, passionately, "you seem inclined to
doubt my word. Perhaps you are no longer disposed to regard me as
your chief? We have broken bread together during four months; we have
shared the same dangers and divided our spoils fairly: am I _now_ to
be charged to my face with a lie?" "Ha!" said he, rising from the
table and striding through the apartment with violent gestures, "who
dares doubt my word, and impute to me the meanness of a lie? Are ye
drunk? Can this wine have made you mad?" and seizing a bottle, he
dashed it to the ground, stamping with rage. "Has the blood of last
night unsettled your nerves and made you delirious? _Basta! basta!_
Let me not hear another word of doubt as to this youth. The first who
utters a syllable of incredulity shall kill me on the spot or fall by
my hand!"
This sounds, I confess, very melo-dramatically, yet, my experience has
taught me that it is precisely a bold and dashing tone of bravado,
adopted at the right moment, which is always most successful among
_such_ ruffians as surrounded my preserver. The speech was delivered
with such genuine vehemence and resolution that no one could question
his sincerity or suppose him acting. But, as soon as he was done, the
leader of the other gang, who had been very unconcernedly smoking his
cigar, and apparently punctuating Don Rafael's oration with his little
puffs, advanced to my new uncle, and laying his hand on his arm,
said:--
"_Amigo_, you take a joke too seriously. No one here certainly desires
to harm the boy or disbelieve you. Take my advice,--calm yourself,
light a cigarillo, drink a tumbler of claret, and drop the subject."
But this process of pacification was too rapid for my excited uncle.
Men of his quality require to be let down gradually from their wrath,
for I have frequently noticed that when their object is too easily
gained, they interpose obstacles and start new subjects of
controversy, so that the most amiable and yielding temper may at last
become inflamed to passionate resistance.
"No, _caballeros_!" exclaimed Don Rafael, "I will neither light a
_cigarillo_, drink claret, calm myself, nor accept satisfaction for
this insult, short of the self-condemnation you will all experience
for a mean suspicion, when I _prove_ the truth of my assertions about
this boy. A doubted man has no business at the head of such fellows as
you are. Begone out of my hearing, Theodore," continued he, pointing
to the canvas door, "begone till I convince these people that I am
your uncle!"
As soon as I was out of the chamber, I afterwards learned, that Rafael
announced my name, place of birth, and parentage to the wreckers, and
desired the other _patron_, Mesclet, who spoke Italian, to follow and
interrogate me as to his accuracy.
Mesclet performed the service in a kind manner, opening the interview
by asking the names of my father and mother, and then demanding how
many uncles I had on my mother's side? My replies appeared
satisfactory.
"Was one of your uncles a navy officer?" inquired Mesclet, "and where
is he at present?" The only uncle I had in the navy, I declared, had
long been absent from his family. But once in my life had I seen him,
and that was while on his way to Marseilles, in 1815, to embark for
the Spanish main; since then no intelligence of the wanderer had
reached my ears. Had I been a French _scholar_ at that time, my
adventures of consanguinity at Ferrol and on this key might well have
brought Moliere's satire to my mind:
"De moi je commence a douter tout de bon;
Pourtant, quand je me tate et que je me rapelle,
_Il me semble que je suis moi!_"
Mesclet's report gave perfect satisfaction to the scoffers, and the
mysterious drama at once established me in a position I could not have
attained even by desperate services to the _filibusteros_. A bumper,
all round, closed the night; and each slunk off to his cot or blanket
beneath a mosquito bar, while the bloodhounds were chained at the door
to do double duty as sentinels and body-guard.
I hope there are few who will deny me the justice to believe that when
I stretched my limbs on the hard couch assigned me that night, I
remembered my God in heaven, and my home in Tuscany. It was the first
night that an ingenuous youth had spent among outcasts, whose hands
were still reeking with the blood of his companions. At that period
of manhood we are grateful for the mere boon of _life_. It is pleasant
to live, to breathe, to have one's being, on this glorious earth, even
though that life may be cast among felons. There is still a _future_
before us; and Hope, the bright goddess of health and enthusiasm,
inspires our nerves with energy to conquer our present ills.
I threw myself down thankfully, but I could not rest. Sore and tired
as I was, I could not compose my mind to sleep. The conduct of Rafael
surprised me. I could not imagine how he became familiar with my
biography, nor could I identify his personal appearance with my uncle
who went so long before to South America. A thousand fancies jumbled
themselves in my brain, and, in their midst, I fell into slumber. Yet
my self-oblivion was broken and short. My pulse beat wildly, but my
skin did not indicate the heat of fever. The tragedy of the galliot
was reacted before me. Phantoms of the butchered wife and men,
streaming with blood, stood beside my bed, while a chorus of devils,
in the garb of sailors, shouted that _I_ was the cause of the
galliot's loss, and of their murder. Then the wretched woman would
hang round my neck, and crawl on my breast, besprinkling me with gore
that spouted from her eyeless sockets, imploring me to save
her;--till, shrieking and panting, I awoke from the horrible
nightmare. Such were the dreams that haunted my pillow nearly all the
time I was forced to remain with these desperadoes.
* * * * *
I thanked God that the night of the tropics was so brief. The first
glimmer of light found me up, and as soon as I could find a companion
to control the hounds, I ran to the sea for refreshment by a glorious
surf-bath. I was on a miserable sandbar, whose surface was hardly
covered with soil; yet, in that prolific land of rain and sunshine,
nature seems only to require the slightest footing to assert her
magnificent power of vegetation. In spots, along the arid island, were
the most beautiful groves of abundant undergrowth, matted with
broad-leaved vines, while, within their shadow, the fresh herbage
sprang up, sparkling with morning dew. In those climates, the blaze of
noon is a season of oppressive languor, but morning and evening, with
their dawn and twilight,--their lengthened shadows and declining sun,
are draughts of beauty that have often intoxicated less enthusiastic
tempers than mine. The bath, the breeze, the renewed nature, aroused
and restored a degree of tone to my shattered nerves, so that when I
reached the _rancho_, I was ready for any duty that might be imposed.
The twin gangs had gone off in their boats soon after daylight, with
saws and axes; but Rafael left orders with my brutal sentry that I
should assist him in preparing breakfast, which was to be ready by
eleven o'clock.
I never knew the real patronymic of this fellow, who was a Spaniard,
and passed among us by the nickname of Gallego. Gallego possessed a
good figure,--symmetrical and strong, while it was lithe and active.
But his head and face were the most repulsive I ever encountered. The
fellow was not absolutely ugly, so far as mere contour of features was
concerned; but there was so dropsical a bloat in his cheeks, such a
stagnant sallowness in his complexion, such a watching scowl in his
eyes, such a drawling sullenness of speech, such sensuality in the
turn of his resolute lips, that I trembled to know he was to be my
daily companion. His dress and skin denoted slovenly habits, while a
rude and growling voice gave token of the bitter heart that kept the
enginery of the brute in motion.
With this wretch for _chef de cuisine_ I was exalted to the post of
"cook's mate."
* * * * *
I found that a fire had been already kindled beneath some dwarf trees,
and that a kettle was set over it to boil. Gallego beckoned me to
follow him into a thicket some distance from the _rancho_, where,
beneath the protection of a large tarpaulin, we found _filibustero's_
pantry amply provided with butter, onions, spices, salt-fish, bacon,
lard, rice, coffee, wines, and all the requisites of comfortable
living. In the corners, strewn at random on the ground, I observed
spy-glasses, compasses, sea-charts, books, and a quantity of choice
cabin-furniture. We obtained a sufficiency of water for cookery and
drinking from holes dug in the sand, and we managed to cool the
beverage by suspending it in a draft of air in porous vessels, which
are known throughout the West Indies by the mischievous name of
"monkeys." Our copious thickets supplied us with fuel, nor were we
without a small, rough garden, in which the gang cultivated peppers,
tomatoes and mint. The premises being reviewed, I returned with my
ill-favored guard to take a lesson in piratical cookery.
It is astonishing how well these wandering vagabonds know how to toss
up a savory mess, and how admirably they understand its enjoyment. A
tickled palate is one of the great objects of their mere animal
existence, and they are generally prepared with a mate who might pass
muster in a second-rate restaurant. The _dejeuner_ we served of
codfish stewed in claret, snowy and granulated rice, delicious
tomatoes and fried ham, was irreproachable. Coffee had been drunk at
day-dawn; so that my comrades contented themselves during the meal
with liberal potations of claret, while they finished the morning with
brandy and cigars.
By two o'clock the breakfast was over, and most of the gorged scamps
had retired for a _siesta_ during the sweltering heat. A few of the
toughest took muskets and went to the beach to shoot gulls or sharks.
Gallego and myself were dispatched to our grove-kitchen to scullionize
our utensils; and, finally, being the youngest, I was intrusted with
the honorable duty of feeding the bloodhounds.
As soon as my duties were over, I was preparing to follow the
siesta-example of my betters, when I met Don Rafael coming out of the
door, and, without a word, was beckoned to follow towards the interior
of the island. When we reached a solitary spot, two or three hundred
yards from the _rancho_, Rafael drew me down beside him in the shade
of a tree, and said gently with a smile, that he supposed I was at
least _surprised_ by the events of the last four days. I must confess
that I saw little for any thing else but astonishment in them, and I
took the liberty to concede that fact to the Don.
"Well," continued he, "I have brought you here to explain a part of
the mystery, and especially to let you understand why it was that I
passed myself off last night as your uncle, in order to save your
life. I was obliged to do it, boy; and, _voto a Dios_! I would have
fought the _junta_,--bloodhounds and all,--before they should have
harmed a limb of your body!"
Don Rafael explained that as soon as he caught a glimpse of my face
when he boarded the _galliot_ on the morning of our disaster, he
recognized the lineaments of an old companion in arms. The resemblance
caused him to address me as particularly as he had done on the night
of the piracy, the consequence of which was that his suspicions
ripened into certainty.
If I were writing the story of Don Rafael's life, instead of my own,
I might give an interesting and instructive narrative, which
showed,--as he alleged,--how those potent controllers of
outlaws,--"circumstances,"--had changed him from a very respectable
soldier of fortune into a genuine buccaneer. He asserted that my
uncle had been his schoolmate and professional companion in the old
world. When the war of South American independence demanded the aid
of certain Dugald Dalgettys to help its fortune, Don Rafael and my
uncle had lent the revolutionists of Mexico their swords, for which
they were repaid in the coin that "patriots" commonly receive for
such amiable self-sacrifice. _Republics_ are proverbially ungrateful,
and Mexico, alas! was a republic.
After many a buffet of fortune, my poor uncle, it seems, perished in a
duel at which Don Rafael performed the professional part of "his
friend." My relation died, of course, like a "man of honor," and soon
after, Don Rafael, himself, fell a victim to the "circumstances"
which, in the end, enabled him to slaughter my shipmates and save my
life.
I must admit that I use this flippant tone with a twinge of sorrow,
for I think I perceived certain spasms of conscience during our
interview, which proved that, among the lees of that withered heart,
there were some rich drops of manhood ready to mantle his cheek with
shame at our surroundings. Indeed, as he disclosed his story, he
exhibited several outbursts of passionate agony which satisfied me
that if Don Rafael were in Paris, Don Rafael would have been a most
respectable _bourgeois_; while, doubtless, there were many estimable
citizens at that moment in Paris, who would have given up their shops
in order to become Don Rafaels in Cuba! Such is life--and
"circumstances!"
Our chat wasted a large portion of the afternoon. It was terminated by
a counsel from my friend to be wary in my deportment, and a direction
to console myself with the idea that he did not mean I should tarry
long upon the island.
"You see," said he, "that I do not lack force of eye, voice, and
personal influence over these ruffians; yet I do not know that I can
always serve or save a friend, so your fate hangs very much on your
circumspection. Men in our situation are Ishmaelites. Our hands are
not only against all, and all against us, but we do not know the
minute when we may be all against each other. The power of habitual
control may do much for a leader among such men; but such an one must
neither quail nor _deceive_. Therefore, _beware_! Let none of your
actions mar my projects. Let them never suspect the truth of our
consanguinity. Call me 'uncle;' and in my mouth you shall always be
'Theodore.' Ask no questions; be civil, cheerful, and serviceable
about the _rancho_; never establish an intimacy, confidence, or
friendship with any _one_ of the band; stifle your feelings and your
tears if you ever find them rising to your lips or eyes; talk as
little as you possibly can; avoid that smooth-tongued Frenchman; keep
away from our revels, and refrain entirely from wine.
"I charge you to be specially watchful of Gallego, the cook. He is our
man of dirty work,--a shameless coward, though revengeful as a cat. If
it shall ever happen that you come in collision with him, _strike
first and well_; no one cares for him; even his death will make no
stir. Take this _cuchillo_,--it is sharp and reliable; keep it near
you day and night; and, _in self-defence_, do not hesitate to make
good use of it. In a few days, I may say more to you; until
then,--_corragio figlio, e addio!_"
We returned to the _rancho_ by different paths.