The balance of life vibrated considerably on the African coast.
Sometimes Mr. Bull's scale ascended and sometimes the Slaver's. It was
now the turn of the former to be exalted for a while by way of revenge
for my forced hospitality.
Our friends of the Bonito held on with provoking pertinacity in front
of my factory, so that I was troubled but little with company from
Cuba for several months. At last, however, it became necessary that I
should visit a neighboring colony for supplies, and I took advantage
of a Russian trader along the coast to effect my purpose. But when we
were within sight of our destination, a British cruiser brought us to
and visited the "Galopsik." As her papers were in order, and the
vessel altogether untainted, I took it for granted that Lieutenant
Hill would make a short stay and be off to his "Saracen." Yet, a
certain "slave deck," and an unusual quantity of water-casks, aroused
the officer's suspicions, so that instead of heading for our port, we
were unceremoniously favored with a prize crew, and ordered to Sierra
Leone!
I did not venture to protest against these movements, inasmuch as I
had no interest whatever in the craft, but I ventured to suggest that
"as I was only a _passenger_, there could be no objection to my
landing before the new voyage was commenced."
"By no means, sir," was the prompt reply, "_your presence is a
material fact for the condemnation of the vessel_!" Indeed, I soon
found out that I was recognized by some of the Kroomen on the cruiser,
and my unlucky reputation was a hole in the bottom of our Russian
craft!
At Sierra Leone matters became worse. The Court did not venture to
condemn the Russian, but resolved on ordering her to England; and when
I re-stated my reasonable appeal for release, I was told that I must
accompany the vessel on her visit to Great Britain.
This arbitrary decision of our captors sadly disconcerted my plans. A
voyage to England would ruin New Sestros. My _barracoons_ were alive
with blacks, but I had not a month's provisions in my stores. The
clerk, temporarily in charge, was altogether unfit to conduct a
factory during a prolonged absence,--and all my personal property, as
well as Don Pedro's, was at the hazard of his judgment during a period
of considerable difficulty.
I resolved to take "French leave."
Three men-of-war were anchored astern and on our bows. No boats were
allowed to approach us from shore; at night two marines and four
sailors paraded the deck, so that it was a thing of some peril to
dream of escape in the face of such Arguses. Yet there was no help for
it. I could not afford an Admiralty or Chancery suit in England, while
my _barracoons_ were foodless in Africa.
No one had been removed from the Russian since her seizure, nor were
we denied liberty of motion and intercourse so long as suspicion had
not ripened into legal condemnation. The captain, by birth a Spaniard,
was an old acquaintance, while the steward and boatswain were good
fellows who professed willingness to aid me in any exploit I might
devise for my liberty.
I hit upon the plan of a regular carouse; and at once decided that my
Spanish skipper was bound to keep his birthday with commendable
merriment and abundant grog. There was to be no delay; one day was as
good as another for his festival, while all that we needed, was time
enough to obtain the requisite supplies of food and fluid.
This was soon accomplished, and the "fatted pig" slaughtered for the
feast. As I never left home unprovided with gold, means were not
wanting to stock our pantry with champagne as well as brandy.
Every thing went off to a charm. We fed like gluttons and drank like
old-fashioned squires. Bumper after bumper was quaffed to the captain.
Little by little, the infection spread, as it always does, from the
wardroom to the cabin, and "goodfellowship" was the watchword of the
night. Invitations were given and accepted by our prize crew. Bull and
the Lion again relaxed under the spell of beef and brandy, so that by
sundown every lip had tasted our _eau de vie_, and watered for more.
The "first watch" found every soul on board, with the exception of our
corporal of marines, as happy as lords.
This corporal was a regular "character;" and, from the first, had been
feared as our stumbling-block. He was a perfect martinet; a prim,
precise, black-stock'd, military, Miss Nancy. He neither ate nor
drank, neither talked nor smiled, but paraded the deck with a grim air
of iron severity, as if resolved to preserve his own "discipline" if
he could not control that of any one else. I doubt very much whether
her Majesty has in her service a more dutiful loyalist than Corporal
Blunt, if that excellent functionary has not succumbed to African
malaria.
I hoped that something would occur to melt the corporal's heart during
the evening, and had prepared a little vial in my pocket, which, at
least, would have given him a stirless nap of twenty-four hours. But
nothing broke the charm of his spell-bound sobriety. There he marched,
to and fro, regular as a drum tap, hour after hour, stiff and
inexorable as a ramrod!
But who, after the fall of Corporal Blunt, shall declare that there is
a living man free from the lures of betrayal? And yet, he only
surrendered to an enemy in disguise!
"God bless me, corporal," said our prize lieutenant, "in the name of
all that's damnable, why don't you let out a reef or two from those
solemn cheeks of yours, and drink a bumper to Captain Gaspard and Don
Teodor? You ain't afraid of _cider_, are you?"
"_Cider_, captain?" said the corporal, advancing to the front and
throwing up his hand with a military salute.
"Cider and be d----d to you!" returned the lieutenant. "Cider--of
course, corporal; what other sort of pop can starving wretches like us
drink in Sary-loney?"
"Well, lieutenant," said the corporal, "if so be as how them fizzing
bottles which yonder Spanish gentleman is a-pourin' down is _only
cider_; and if cider ain't agin rules after 'eight bells;' and if you,
lieutenant, orders me to handle my glass,--I don't see what right I
have to disobey the orders of my superior!"
"Oh! blast your sermon and provisos," interjected the lieutenant,
filling a tumbler and handing it to the corporal, who drained it at a
draught. In a moment the empty glass was returned to the lieutenant,
who, instead of receiving it from the subaltern, refilled the tumbler.
"Oh, I'm sure I'm a thousand times obliged, lieutenant," said Blunt,
with his left hand to his cap, "a thousand, thousand times,
lieutenant,--but I'd rather take no more, if it's all the same to your
honor."
"But it ain't, Blunt, by any means; the rule is universal among
gentlemen on ship and ashore, that whenever a fellow's glass is
filled, he must drink it to the dregs, though he may leave a drop in
the bottom to pour out on the table in honor of his sweetheart;--so,
down with the cider! And now Blunt, my boy, that you've calked your
_first_ nail-head, I insist upon a bumper all round to that sweetheart
you were just talking of!"
"_Me_, lieutenant?"
"_You_, corporal!"
"I wasn't talking about any sweetheart, as I remembers,
lieutenant;--'pon the honor of a soldier, I haven't had no such a
thing this twenty years, since one warm summer's afternoon, when
Jane----"
"Now, corporal, you don't pretend to contradict your superior officer,
I hope. You don't intend to be the first man on this ship to show a
mutinous example!"
"Oh! God bless me, lieutenant, the thought never entered my brain!"
But the third tumbler of champagne _did_, in the apple-blossom
disguise of "_cider_;" and, in half an hour, there wasn't an odder
figure on deck than the poor corporal, whose vice-like stock steadied
his neck, though there was nothing that could make him toe the plank
which he pertinaciously insisted on promenading. Blunt the immaculate,
was undeniably drunk!
In fact,--though I say it with all possible respect for her Majesty's
naval officers, _while on duty_,--there was, by this time, hardly a
sober man on deck or in the cabin except myself and the Spanish
captain, who left me to engage the prize-officer in a game of
backgammon or dominoes. The crew was dozing about the decks, or
nodding over the taffrail, while my colleague, the boatswain, prepared
an oar on the forecastle to assist me in reaching the beach.
It was near midnight when I stripped in my state-room, leaving my
garments in the berth, and hanging my watch over its pillow. In a
small bundle I tied a flannel shirt and a pair of duck pantaloons,
which I fastened behind my neck as I stood on the forecastle; and
then, placing the oar beneath my arm, I glided from the bows into the
quiet water.
The night was not only very dark, but a heavy squall of wind and rain,
accompanied by thunder, helped to conceal my escape; and free the
stream from sharks. I was not long in reaching a native town, where a
Krooman from below, who had known me at Gallinas, was prepared for my
reception and concealment.
Next morning, the cabin-boy, who did not find me as usual on deck,
took my coffee to the state-room, where, it was supposed, I still
rested in comfortable oblivion of last night's carouse. But the bird
had flown! There were my trunk, my garments, my watch,--undisturbed as
I left them when preparing for bed. There was the linen of my couch
turned down and tumbled during repose. The inquest had no doubt of my
fate:--_I had fallen overboard during the night_, and was doubtless,
by this time, well digested in the bowels of African sharks! Folks
shook their heads with surprise when it was reported that the
notorious slaver, Canot, had fallen a victim to _mania a potu_!
The _report_ of my death soon reached shore; the British townsfolk
believed it, but I never imagined for a moment that the warm-hearted
tar who commanded the prize had been deceived by such false signals.
During eight days I remained hidden among the friendly negroes, and
from my loophole, saw the Russian vessel sail under the Saracen's
escort. I was not, however, neglected in my concealment by the worthy
tradesmen of the British colony, who knew I possessed money as well as
credit. This permitted me to receive visits and make purchases for the
factory, so that I was enabled, on the eighth day, with a full
equipment of all I desired, to quit the British jurisdiction in a
Portuguese vessel.
On our way to New Sestros, I made the skipper heave his main-yard
aback at Digby, while I embarked thirty-one "darkies," and a couple of
stanch canoes with their Kroomen, to land my human freight in case of
encountering a cruiser.
And well was it for me that I took this precaution. Night fell around
us, dark and rainy,--the wind blowing in squalls, and sometimes dying
away altogether. It was near one o'clock when the watch announced two
vessels on our weather bow; and, of course, the canoes were launched,
manned, filled with twenty of the gang, and set adrift for the coast,
ere our new acquaintances could honor us with their personal
attention. Ten of the slaves still remained on board, and as it was
perilous to risk them in our own launch, we capsized it over the
squad, burying the fellows in its bowels under the lee of a sailor's
pistol to keep them quiet if we were searched.
Our lights had hardly been extinguished in cabin and binnacle, when we
heard the measured stroke of a man-of-war oar. In a few moments more
the boat was alongside, the officer on deck, and a fruitless
examination concluded. The blacks beneath the launch were as silent as
death; nothing was found to render the "Maria" suspicious; and we were
dismissed with a left-handed blessing for rousing gentlemen from their
bunks on so comfortless a night. Next morning at dawn we reached New
Sestros, where my ten lubbers were landed without delay.
But our little comedy was not yet over. Noon had not struck before the
"Dolphin" cast anchor within hail of the "Maria," and made so free as
to claim her for a prize! In the darkness and confusion of shipping
the twenty slaves who were first of all despatched in canoes, one of
them slipped overboard with a paddle, and sustained himself till
daylight, when he was picked up by the cruiser whose jaws we had
escaped during the night! The negro's story of our trick aroused the
ire of her commander, and the poor "Maria" was obliged to pay the
forfeit by revisiting Sierra Leone in custody of an officer.
There were great rejoicings on my return to New Sestros. The coast was
full of odd and contradictory stories about our capture. When the tale
of my death at Sierra Leone by drowning, in a fit of drunkenness, was
told to my patron Don Pedro, that intelligent gentleman denied it
without hesitation, because, in the language of the law, "_it proved
too much_." It was _possible_, he said, that I might have been
drowned; but when they told him I had come to my death by strong
drink, they declared what was not only improbable, but altogether out
of the question. Accordingly, he would take the liberty to discredit
the entire story, being sure that I would turn up before long.
But poor Prince Freeman was not so clever a judge of nature as Don
Pedro. Freeman had heard of my death; and, imbued as he was with the
superstitions of his country, nobody could make him credit my
existence till he despatched a committee to my factory, headed by his
son, to report the facts. But then, on the instant, the valiant prince
paid me a visit of congratulation. As I held out both hands to welcome
him, I saw the fellow shrink with distrust.
"Count your fingers!" said Freeman.
"Well," said I, "what for?--here they are--one--two--three--four--
five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten!"
"Good--good!" shouted the prince, as he clasped my digits. "White men
tell too many lies 'bout the commodore! White man say, John Bull catch
commodore, and cut him fingers all off, so commodore no more can
'makee book' for makee fool of John Bull!" Which, being translated
into English, signifies that it was reported my fingers had been cut
off by my British captors to prevent me from writing letters by which
the innocent natives believed I so often bamboozled and deceived the
cruisers of her Majesty.
During my absence, a French captain, who was one of our most
attentive friends, had left a donkey which he brought from the Cape de
Verds for my especial delectation, by way of an occasional _promenade
a cheval_! I at once resolved to bestow the "long-eared convenience"
on Freeman, not only as a type, but a testimonial; yet, before a week
was over, the unlucky quadruped reappeared at my quarters, with a
message from the prince that it might do well enough for a bachelor
like me, but its infernal voice was enough to cause the miscarriage of
an entire harem, if not of every honest woman throughout his
jurisdiction! The superstition spread like wildfire. The women were up
in arms against the beast; and I had no rest till I got rid of its
serenades by despatching it to Monrovia, where the dames and damsels
were not afraid of donkeys of any dimensions.