THE OUZEL GALLEY ORDERED ROUND TO MONTEGO BAY--FRESH GUNS AND STORES
TAKEN ON BOARD--A CRIMP BRINGS OFF SOME MEN IN NO UNUSUAL CONDITION--TWO
VOLUNTEERS--VISIT FROM GERALD--THE OUZEL GALLEY SAILS--SUSPICIONS AS TO
ONE OF THE VOLUNTEERS--MONTEGO BAY REACHED--A DINNER ON SHORE--
WARNINGS--LAST SIGHT OF THE OUZEL GALLEY FROM THE SHORE--BELLEVUE AND
ITS INHABITANTS--ARCHIE SANDYS--DESCRIBES A JUMBY DANCE--SIGNS OF A
COMING STORM--A HURRICANE--ANXIETY REGARDING THE OUZEL GALLEY--EFFECTS
OF THE HURRICANE.
The _Ouzel Galley_ was soon unloaded. Some time, however, was spent in
repairing the damages she had received from the pirate, after which Owen
was preparing to take on board a fresh cargo, when he received orders to
proceed round to Montego Bay, where a large amount of produce, which the
firm had purchased from a neighbouring estate, was awaiting shipment.
"You will run but little risk, I hope, from the enemy's cruisers, and
against them we have at all events insured, though not to the full
amount, for we know that we can trust to the sailing qualities of the
_Ouzel Galley_, and to your courage, judgment, and seamanship," wrote
Mr Ferris. "If a convoy can be procured, you will of course take
advantage of it; but if not, so great is the importance of getting the
produce home without delay, that we leave it to your discretion to sail
alone, should you judge that to be most to our interest. You are also
at liberty to increase your armament by two or four guns, if you can
carry them, and not only to replace the men you lost in your action with
the pirate, but to add ten or a dozen more hands if you can obtain them.
You will thus, we hope, be able to beat off any of the enemy's smaller
cruisers or such a piratical craft as attacked us coming out; though you
will, of course, use all the means in your power to avoid a contest and
to make the best of your way home."
Owen was naturally flattered with the letter, though he considered that
the dangers he would have to encounter were much greater than those he
was likely to meet with in a run home under a sufficient convoy.
Gerald, who had been to Kingston, was paying him a visit on board on his
way down.
"I wish that I could go with you," he exclaimed, "and so, I dare say,
will our second lieutenant. It isn't far off, I fancy, from where Mr
Ferris is staying. I'll tell Foley--though I don't think there's much
chance of his getting leave, and we shall be sent to sea as soon as we
are ready, for the admiral isn't the man to let the grass grow on the
bottom of any of his ships."
"I wish that you could come, for I shall find it rather solitary," said
Owen. "However, I see no chance of that, and I will now go on shore to
get the guns--I'll have the four of them--to order some of the stores I
require, and to do what I can to pick up men."
"I'll try to pay you another visit," said Gerald, as he was about to
step into the boat alongside. "If I don't see you again, remember to
give my love to my father and Norah--and may you have a prosperous trip
home."
While Gerald went down the harbour, Owen landed, taking with him Dan and
Pompey. The purchase of the guns was an easy matter, as there were
plenty to be had, taken out of prizes. He chose two long brass guns,
9-pounders, and two short ones of heavier calibre. The stores were
quickly ordered, too; but to procure the men was more difficult. It
would be hopeless to expect to get them at all, were he particular as to
how he got them or what class of men he got. Still, if he could have
his choice, he would take a smaller number of good men rather than his
complement of inferior hands. There were, of course, crimps who would
be ready to supply him, and he was compelled to apply to one of these
personages, who promised to send him on board six or eight hands before
next morning. In the mean time Pompey met two old shipmates, blacks
like himself, for whom he could answer; and Dan fortunately found a
countryman of his own, also a trusty fellow. With these three hands
Owen returned to the ship, and the following day the guns and stores
were received on board, the former mounted on their carriages and the
latter stowed away. Sufficient hands only were wanting to enable him to
sail. His friend, the crimp, was as good as his word; which was not
surprising, considering that he was to be well paid for it. Towards
evening a boat came alongside with the crimp and six men, two of whom
only were sitting upright, while the rest were lying along the thwarts.
Jonas Jobson, the crimp, a big-boned mulatto, dressed in a broad-brimmed
hat, nankeen trousers, and a white jacket, dispensing with a shirt or
other clothing, came up the side.
"Dere dey are, cappen," he said, "prime seamen when dey come to demself,
and only just a little drunkee now. Dese two will answer for dem.
Here, you come up, Sam Tar, and you, Jack Noddin."
The two men summoned managed to get up the side, though it was very
evident that they were half-seas over. Still they answered for
themselves in a tolerably satisfactory manner, and assured the captain
that they knew the others, who were as good seamen as ever stepped--
only, when they could get a drop of liquor, they would. "There's no
denying of it," said Sam Tar, "and so do I--only I knows when to stop,
and they don't;" and Sam gave a lurch against Mr Jobson, which called
forth an angry rebuke from that gentleman. Owen was not, as may be
supposed, altogether satisfied, however. The men were hoisted on board
and laid on the deck. Except for their breathing, they might have been
so many corpses, so utterly helpless were they.
"You've brought me a pretty lot," said Owen; "they're not likely to come
to till I get to sea, and then it's more than probable, to my mind, that
they'll not be worth their salt. You should have brought off sober men,
that I might have judged of them."
"Ah, cappen, you berry hard on me. How could I keep the men sober? And
berry likely if I did dey not come 'tall," answered Mr Jobson, with
wonderful effrontery. "You werry 'tickler; oder cappens take any dey
can get--drunkee or no drunkee, dese men prime hands when dey come to
demself."
Still Owen was firm in refusing to take the drunken men, even though Tar
and Noddin muttered that if their mates did not join, neither would
they; whereat Mr Jobson began to fear that he should have his labour
for nothing, and calling for a bucket, filled it alongside and dashed it
over the inanimate forms placed on deck. At first the shower-bath
produced not the slightest effect, but after several buckets had been
thrown over the men, one of them began to move and to stretch out his
arms as if swimming; then another grunted, and desired with sundry
unsavoury epithets to be left alone; while a third actually sat upright,
and looked stupidly about him. The fourth, however, remained motionless
as at first, when Mr Jobson threw another bucket of water over him. At
last one of the mates lifted the man's arm; the moment he let go it fell
to the deck. He then felt the hand.
"Why, Mr Jobson, you've brought us off a dead man!" he exclaimed. "He
is as cold as ice already."
Mr Jobson stooping down, having convinced himself of the fact, coolly
observed, "Why, he alive yesterday when he come to my house."
"Yes, and you allowed him to drink himself to death," said Owen.
"You'll take him on shore with you, for he couldn't have died on board
this vessel."
Mr Jobson demurred. "Why for dat?" he exclaimed. "You take him to sea
and throw him oberboard; it save much trouble, and I no charge you for
him."
"I should think not," observed Owen. "As for the other three, if Tar
and Noddin are ready to answer for them, I will keep them, for they, at
all events, are alive and likely to come to in a short time."
To Mr Jobson's disgust the corpse was lowered into the boat, when,
having received the sum agreed on, he pulled on shore to give the best
account of the matter he could. Owen knew that he would probably state
that the man had died on board the _Ouzel Galley_, and he was taking him
on shore to be buried; for in the West Indies in those days coroners
would not be very particular in inquiring into the way seamen went out
of the world. The three men who had been so unceremoniously treated,
having been stripped of their clothes, were stowed away in their
hammocks to recover from their drunken fit, the other two new hands
being allowed also to turn in. Still, Owen would have been glad to have
his full complement. He had intended to sail that night with the land
wind as soon as the moon was up, and was seated in his cabin waiting for
the pilot, and writing a report of his proceedings to Mr Ferris, when
Dan announced that two men were in a boat alongside, who wished to see
him. He went on deck and told the men to come on board. They did so;
both of them were sailor-like fellows. One of them, stepping forward
and doffing his hat, said, "I understand, Captain Massey, that you want
some more hands. My mate and I are ready to ship for the run home at
the wages you are offering. We were left behind by the _Polly_
privateer, and as she has been taken by the French, we want to join
another ship; we've no fancy for a man-o'-war, and have had only ill
luck in privateering. My name's John Green, and his is Thomas Routh;
I've been to sea for pretty nearly ten years, and he's been fifteen or
more afloat--so, without boasting, I may say we're both of us able
hands."
"You give a very satisfactory account of yourself and your mate, John
Green," observed Owen. "Have you any certificates from the last vessels
you served in?"
"Unfortunately we left them on board the _Polly_, sir, and are not
likely ever to see them again," answered the man--"and we might enter on
board a man-o'-war, as you know, sir, without any questioning; though,
if you don't take us, there are plenty of other masters who won't be so
particular. But to say the truth, sir, knowing your character, we've a
mind to sail with you."
"That's a fact," said the other man, who had not yet spoken, and who
seemed to be much older than his companion, and a rough fellow--his big
whiskers and shaggy locks almost concealing his features, though he
might not have been ill-looking had his hair been moderately trimmed.
Owen, calling his first mate, asked his opinion of the men, and they
both agreed that, as their story was probable and they had the cut of
seamen, they were not likely to get better men. He accordingly entered
them both. John Green was a fair-haired, ordinary-looking young man,
rather more fluent of speech than might have been expected from his
appearance, his countenance contrasting greatly with the hirsute,
sunburnt visage of his mate.
Owen had finished his letters, and got them ready to send on shore by
Dan. Among those for England were one for Captain Tracy and mother for
Norah, for he could not tell when he might have another opportunity of
writing. Soon afterwards the pilot came on board, the sails were
loosed, the anchor hove short, and as soon as the boat returned the ship
was got under way, and, the moon rising, she stood down the harbour with
the wind abeam. As she got off Port Royal, the ship was hailed by a
man-of-war's boat, and ordered to shorten sail; and the boat coming
alongside, who should appear on deck but Gerald Tracy.
"I was sent to ascertain what ship this is, where you are bound to, and
all other particulars; but as I happen to know, I needn't waste time in
asking," said Gerald. "We've lost two or three hands lately, but as I
know you've not got them, I needn't trouble you."
Owen felt considerable doubt whether he ought not to enlighten his
careless young friend, whose duty it certainly was not to take anything
for granted. However, he thought it very probable that if he did, he
should lose some of his hands; they had come on board of their own
accord, and he wanted them even more than did the _Champion_, which
could easily supply their places. He therefore only replied that he was
very glad Gerald had come, and as he was anxious to get to sea before
the land wind failed, he should feel obliged if his young friend would
make his visit as short as possible, and allow the ship to proceed.
"Yes, of course," answered Gerald; "but if you get home before I do,
tell Norah that she may look out for a long letter, which I intend to
write as soon as I have anything fresh to say. We hear that, while our
ship is refitting, some of us are to be turned over to the _Augusta_,
Captain Forrest; and as we are sure to have something to do, I shall
have a long yarn to spin."
The young midshipman, who had been accompanied by Owen to the gangway,
tumbled into his boat and pulled back to his ship, fully satisfied that
he had done his duty. The harbour-master's boat having also paid the
usual official visit and found all right, and the pilot having taken his
departure, the _Ouzel Galley_ stood out to sea under all sail. The soft
moonbeams shed a bright light on the calm waters, just rippled over by
the breeze, the wavelets sparkling like frosted silver. Having gained a
sufficient offing, the _Ouzel Galley_ hauled up to the westward and
stood along the coast, lofty ridges rising on her starboard hand, while
the broad expanse of the Caribbean Sea stretched away on the larboard
side. The watch was set in charge of the first mate, but Owen had no
intention of turning in; for, although few enemies were likely to
approach the coast of Jamaica, where a large fleet was known to be
collected, still one might possibly run in, on the chance of finding a
richly laden merchantman off her guard. It was necessary, therefore, to
be on the watch. None, however, could approach them seaward without
being discovered in good time; but an enemy's vessel might lie hidden
behind one of the many headlands and points, or in some of the numerous
creeks on the coast, and might sally forth when least expected, and
endeavour to capture them if unprepared. The land wind lasted for an
hour or more past midnight, when the _Ouzel Galley_ lay becalmed, with
little prospect of making progress till the sea breeze should set in in
the morning. Owen at length, leaving the deck in charge of the second
mate, lay down in his cabin, desiring to be called should any strange
sail appear in sight. Daylight, however, returned, and when he left his
cabin he found the crew following their usual occupations of the
morning--washing decks, coiling down the ropes. On looking about for
the new hands, to judge of them by the way they went about their work,
he observed that the two last who had joined were flemishing the ropes
down man-of-war fashion, as were two of the others; but the rest, those
supplied by Mr Jobson, were evidently lubberly fellows, who scarcely
know the stem from the stern of the ship.
"I must practise these men at their guns, or they will be of no use if
it ever comes to a pinch," thought Owen. While he was watching the
crew, the dark-whiskered man who had entered as Thomas Routh came aft,
when Owen got a better look at his countenance than he had hitherto had.
He started, for he fully believed that he saw before him O'Harrall,
whose life he had twice been the means of saving. He looked again and
again, not wishing, however, that the man should discover that he was
especially noticing him; while the latter, apparently totally
unconscious of being remarked, went on with his work. Still, it was not
likely that O'Harrall had voluntarily come on board his ship. At last
he determined to speak to the man, and to judge by his tone of voice and
answers. He called him up.
"Have you ever served with me before?" he asked.
"No, sir, not that I know of, for I neither remember your features nor
your name," was the answer.
"Have you over served on board a man-of-war?" asked Owen.
"When I shipped aboard this craft I came to do duty as a seaman, not to
answer questions about my previous life," said the man, looking up
boldly into Owen's face. Owen turned away; the voice reminded him of
O'Harrall as much as the countenance, and yet, from the man's perfect
coolness, he could not suppose that he could be that person. Owen had
no doubt, however, that he had served on board a man-of-war, and was
probably a deserter, and that, should any naval officer come on board in
search of deserters, the man would probably be taken. He determined, at
all events, to watch the man and see how he behaved himself towards the
rest of the crew. Owen was not long left in doubt, for, though Green
had at first been put forward, it was very evident that the other was
the leading spirit of the two. He was observed to be associating
chiefly with the new men, and talking to them when no others were
present, endeavouring, not unsuccessfully, to establish an influence
over them. He did not, however, neglect the old hands, and whenever he
had an opportunity he took pains to win their goodwill. To the officers
he was obedient and submissive enough; and when, rounding Negril Head at
the west end of the island, the ship was struck by a sudden squall, he
showed by his activity and courage that he was a first-rate seaman. His
manners, too, were above those of an ordinary sailor, and though rough
in his exterior, he was neat and clean in his person.
The ship was running in for Montego Bay. Owen and his first mate had
gone down to take a hurried dinner, when Dan came in to the cabin.
"Well, Dan, how do the new hands get on?" asked Owen.
"It's just that I want speak to you about, your honour," answered Dan.
"There's not much to be said about most of them, except that they're
pretty hard bargains; but there's one of them, Routh, who, if he isn't
some great lord, will try to make the people believe that he is. It's
only to be hoped that he means well, for if he takes it into his head to
do any harm, he'll do it."
"Perhaps, after all, he may have no evil intentions. He certainly is
one of our best men," observed Mr Fisher, the first mate.
"Your honour asked me to say what I thought of the men, and I've said
it," answered Dan.
"We shall see how he behaves in harbour, and if there is no fault to
find with him we can keep him on board," remarked Owen.
"Your honour knows what's best," observed Dan, speaking with the freedom
of an old follower, "but I'll stake my davy that he's after no good."
"Well, Dan, Mr Fisher and I will keep an eye on him, and you can report
anything further you see suspicious in his conduct," said Owen, as he
and his mate returned on deck.
An hour afterwards the _Ouzel Galley_ was at anchor in Montego Bay.
Owen was just going on shore, when Mr Twigg, who had been waiting for
the ship, came off and gave him directions about receiving his cargo.
Owen reported that he had fully carried out his instructions, showed the
guns he had procured, and mustered his crew.
"A likely set of fellows," observed Mr Twigg. "You'll do your duty, my
lads, and, if you have to defend the ship, you'll fight bravely. Should
you come back in her you may be sure of good wages; Ferris, Twigg, and
Cash pay well when they are well served."
The crew cheered, and Routh, who stood foremost among then, was
especially vociferous, though he might have been seen winking to some of
his mates when the eyes of the worthy planter and the officers were
turned away.
"You'll have the droghers alongside to-morrow morning, and you'll not be
long in hoisting the casks on board, Captain Massey," continued Mr
Twigg, as he walked the poop. "Meantime, I shall be happy to see you on
shore, and should have been glad to take you to Bellevue, as Miss Ferris
is anxious to send some messages to our fair friend Miss Tracy, who won
all our hearts out here, as I understand she has that of another friend
of ours." Mr Twigg chuckled, and Owen looked conscious. "However, as
the distance is too great, Miss Ferris has intrusted me with letters for
her friend, which I can safely confide to you."
Thus Mr Twigg talked on. "You will pass in sight of Bellevue as you
run along the coast--we'll signal you, so that you can give the last
report of your friends when you reach Dublin."
The invitation Owen had received was equivalent to a command, and,
though he would have preferred remaining on board, he accompanied Mr
Twigg on shore. He met at dinner several planters, agents of estates,
or attorneys, as they were called; two or three brother skippers whose
vessels lay in the harbour, a military officer, and a few nondescripts.
The conversation was pretty general, though the subject of sugar and rum
might have predominated, and Owen heard more about affairs in Jamaica
than he had hitherto done. The blacks, he found, were in an
unsatisfactory state; they had been discovered holding secret meetings
of a suspicious character. They had more than once before revolted and
committed most fearful atrocities; and one or two gentlemen expressed
the fear that, unless precautions were taken in time, the black's might
play the same trick again. Those gentlemen were, however, looked upon
by the rest of the company as timid alarmists.
"The cowhide is the best specific for keeping the black rascals in
order," exclaimed Mr Tony Grubbins, an attorney from a neighbouring
estate, who looked as if he not unfrequently used that same weapon of
offence. "We always know in good time what the negroes are about, for
they haven't the sense to keep their own secrets; if they show any
obstreperousness, we shall pretty quickly put them down."
"As there are ten blacks to one white man, if the negroes are combined
we might find it not so easy a matter to put them down," observed one of
the timid gentlemen.
"Pooh-pooh, sir!--show them the muzzle of a blunderbuss and they'll be
off like a shot," answered the other.
From the remarks made by the timid gentleman, Owen felt, however,
inclined to side with his opinion.
Captain Brown, of the good ship _Sarah Ann_, on hearing that Owen was to
sail without convoy, warned him of the danger he would run. "All very
well, sir," he observed, "when you get to the eastward of the islands,
but you'll find out that you'll have to run the gauntlet of the enemy's
cruisers, for they're pretty thick in these seas; and, in addition,
there are not a few picarooning, piratical rascals who don't pretend
even to be privateers, and boldly hoist the black flag, and rob and
murder all they can capture."
"I hope that the _Ouzel Galley_ can keep clear of them, as well as of
the regular cruisers of the enemy," answered Owen. "We fell in with a
gentleman of the sort on our passage out, but we had fewer guns and
hands than we have now, and we at first took him for one of our convoy,
or we should have beaten him off without much difficulty."
"That is more than poor Wilkins, of the _Greyhound_, was able to do,"
remarked Captain Brown. "I was in company with him at sunset, when
everything was well on board, and we were standing the same course--but
next morning he was nowhere in sight, and my first mate, who had the
middle watch, told me he saw two vessels astern instead of one. As no
guns were heard, it's my belief that the _Greyhound_ was taken by
surprise and carried before the crew had time to fire a shot in their
defence."
"Depend on it, we'll keep too sharp a look-out to be surprised," said
Owen, "though I am obliged to you for the warning."
As the party was becoming a somewhat uproarious one, Owen, who both from
principle and habit was a sober man, stole off and returned on board his
ship. The mate reported all well, and that none of the crew had even
asked leave to go on shore. When Dan, however, made his appearance in
the cabin, he looked while he moved about as if he had something to
communicate.
"What's the matter? Out with it, Dan," said Owen.
"Your honour, I don't want to be a talebearer," answered Dan, "but Routh
and Green and the rest of their gang have been talking together the
whole of the watch, and that means mischief."
"The more necessity for keeping a bright look-out on them," observed the
captain, "and I have no doubt that the honest men in the ship will keep
them down, whatever tricks they may play."
With a certain amount of uncomfortable feeling Owen turned in, keeping,
as he always did, his pistol and sword by the side of his bed. The next
day he was too busy taking in cargo to think of the matter; and now,
being ready for sea, the _Ouzel Galley_ stood out of the harbour.
According to arrangement with Mr Twigg, the _Ouzel Galley_ kept along
the coast till she came off Bellevue. As she appeared, a flag from the
flagstaff on shore flew out to the breeze. Owen hoisted his colours and
fired his guns, and the merchantman, looking as trim as a ship of war,
sailed on her course.
"No fear about that young fellow making the voyage if any man can do
it," observed Mr Twigg to Mr Ferris.
"He has been brought up under a good captain--a better we have not in
our service," replied Mr Ferris.
Ellen watched the departing ship which was carrying her epistle to
Norah. The weather was beautiful, though the heat was somewhat more
oppressive than usual; a light breeze filled the sails of the _Ouzel
Galley_, wafting her over the calm waters. It was scarcely possible to
believe that she would have any dangers to encounter on that tranquil
ocean.
A considerable number of persons inhabited the house of Bellevue.
Besides Mr Twigg and his wife and the manager, there were six young
gentlemen, book-keepers, who were so called though they had no books to
keep, but were employed in superintending the various operations of the
estate. Most of them were young men of respectable families, who looked
forward to becoming managers or to holding other responsible offices.
There were also several assistant overseers, mostly mulattoes, though
some were whites--literally, slave-drivers--whose business was to keep
the negroes up to their work in the fields. The book-keepers dined at
table, and were treated in every respect as gentlemen, though the
manager kept them under pretty strict discipline. One of them, Archie
Sandys, a lively young Scotchman, was a favourite with Ellen, as he
reminded her of Gerald Tracy. He was clever, too, and very well
informed. That he admired her, there could be little doubt, for no one
was more ready to obey her behests, though he might not have foolishly
lost his heart or ventured to lift his eyes to one so much above him in
fortune.
The _Ouzel Galley_ was still in sight in the offing, when Archie, having
performed his duties for the day, came in and found Ellen seated in the
shade, inhaling what little air was moving. The scene was a lovely one.
The house stood on a height looking over the sea; there was a lawn
green as one in spring, with a shrubbery on either side of tropical
trees and shrubs of varied and picturesque forms, above which towered
several specimens of the graceful palm. Birds of gay plumage and
butterflies of gorgeous hues were flitting about, and many magnificent
flowers, such as are to be seen in hot-houses alone at home, were
blooming around. Words, however, can never give an adequate description
of West Indian scenery. Young Sandys made his bow to Miss Ferris, who
greeted him with a smile.
"I am not intruding on you, I hope?" he said.
"Certainly not," she answered, laughing; and seeing that he was not
expected to go away, he stood leaning against one of the pillars of the
verandah.
"I witnessed a curious scene yesterday, which I have not before had an
opportunity of describing," he said, after a few other remarks had
passed between them. "I don't know what Mr Ferris or our manager will
say to it; I consider myself fortunate in getting away with a whole
skin. You perhaps, Miss Ferris, have never heard of a Jumby dance; I
had, and wished to see one. Yesterday, one of our assistant overseers,
a mulatto, Bob Kerlie by name, to whom I had rendered some service, told
me that he had heard one was to take place on some wild ground between
this and the next estate; and I persuaded him to act as my guide to the
place. He told me that I must be careful what I said or did, as the
negroes were in a very curious humour and might easily be offended. We
carried our cutlasses, and I stuck a brace of pistols in my belt;
besides which, we were each provided with a stout walking-stick. We
started at sundown, and after leaving the cultivated ground we had no
little difficulty in making our way through the tangled brushwood till
we reached the hut in which the Jumby dance was to be performed. It
stood under a vast cotton-tree, on an open space near the bank of the
river which you see running into the ocean to the westward of this. As
we went along Kerlie told me that the chief performer was a big negro,
Cudjoe, reputed to be a powerful Obeah man; that is, a necromancer, or
what the North American Indians would call a medicine-man. He is
supposed to possess wonderful mysterious powers--to be able to cause the
death of any one who offends him. Bob assured me that there was no
doubt about this, and those he denounces never fail to die shortly
afterwards. If such is the case, Master Cudjoe probably knows how to
use poison to bring about the fulfilment of his predictions, and I am
thankful that he does not belong to us.
"We found upwards of a hundred negroes, mostly men, though there were
some women among them, all decked out in strange and uncouth ornaments,
snakes' heads, dried frogs, various coloured beads forming necklaces
round their throats; their garments were otherwise scanty in the
extreme. They looked surprised and not very well pleased at seeing us,
and Rob had some difficulty in persuading them that I only came for
curiosity and was far too good-natured to say anything about what I
might see which might get them into trouble. The assembly being
pacified agreed to our remaining. I observed that there was a great
deal of talking among them, but as they spoke their native African,
neither Rob nor I could understand what was said. The hut was of
considerable size, though low and thatched merely with palm-leaves.
There were no windows, and only one door; this was now thrown open, when
what looked to me like a huge skeleton appeared at the entrance, and
waved its bony arms wildly about, beckoning the people to enter. They
started to their feet, for they had hitherto been squatting round, and
rushed eagerly to the door. Rob and I followed, when we discovered that
the seeming skeleton was the Obeah man, Cudjoe, who had thus painted his
black body from head to foot. The hut was lighted by some twenty small
lamps, hung from the roof, and in the centre was a figure intended to
represent a human being, with an enormous cock's head. Master Cudjoe,
if he was the artist, had contrived to produce as hideous-looking a
monster as could well be imagined. `That's the fetish,' whispered Rob;
`they worship it as if it were a god.'
"Cudjoe, on seeing us, asked in an angry tone what we wanted, and Rob
spoke to him as he had done to the other people. `Den you keep quiet,
buccra,' he said, turning to me; `I no hab laffee or talkee.' I assured
him that I would remain as still as a mouse; and with a growl he retired
again inside the hut, where he seated himself in front of a huge
tom-tom, the African drum, and began slowly to beat it, chanting at the
same time one of his native songs, I concluded. Gradually he beat
faster and faster, accompanying the music, if such it could be called,
with his voice. The spectators sat listening in rapt attention, when
suddenly one of the women started up and began dancing, keeping capital
time to the music. The faster Cudjoe played the faster she danced, till
every limb and muscle seemed in movement. Round and round she went in
front of the hideous fetish: no dervish of the East could have danced
more furiously. Presently she was joined by a man, who danced in the
same manner round and round her. One after the other, the whole of the
women, with partners, took a part in the performance; I could scarcely
follow their dark figures, except by the ornaments they wore, as they
moved in eccentric courses within the hut, the tom-tom beating louder
and louder, and the people moving faster. The spectators had hitherto
sat quiet; they at length rose, and were, I saw, apparently about to
join in the saturnalia. Just then Rob touched me on the arm and
whispered, `Come away, sir; I heard something which told me it will not
be safe to remain here longer.' As I had no wish to be offered up as a
sacrifice to the fetish I followed his advice, and as fast as we could
move along we made our way back to the open. On inquiring of Rob what
he had heard, he told me that the negroes were cursing the white men,
and were praying to the fetish to assist them in some design or other
they had on foot. Rob even thought that in their excitement they might
seize us and put us to death. He was so earnest in the matter that he
convinced me he did not speak without sufficient cause. I don't wish to
alarm you, Miss Ferris, but I want you to try and induce your father to
take precautions against any sudden outbreak of the blacks. Our manager
holds them in such supreme contempt that he wouldn't listen to what I
have to say, and would only laugh at me and call me a second-sight
Scotchman. Even the hundred negroes I saw assembled might commit a
great deal of mischief; and there may be many hundreds more united with
them: numbers arrived while we were there, and others were coming in as
we made our escape."
"I certainly think you are right, Mr Sandys, in not despising the
warning given by the overseer," said Ellen. "I will tell my father what
you have said to me, and ask him to speak to you on the subject, and he
will probably examine Rob Kerlie. It will surely be wise to be on our
guard, even should the negroes not really be meditating mischief. I
confess that what you have told me has made me somewhat anxious; this
hot evening is not calculated to rise one's spirits. Tell me, Mr
Sandys, is the air often as oppressive as it is at present?"
"No, certainly. It is very hot indeed; I suspect that we are going to
have a storm," answered Archie. "I observed this morning curiously
shaped clouds high up in the sky, which suddenly dispersed from every
point of the compass. I have been for some minutes, watching a bank of
clouds rising above the horizon in the north-west, and it has gained a
considerable height since we were speaking; it seems to have swept round
the western end of the island."
Ellen looked in the direction indicated; just then a vivid flash of
lightning burst from the dark bank of clouds in the west, followed
almost without interval by several others, and in a few minutes the tops
of the tall palms bent before a sudden blast which came rushing from the
westward. Every instant it increased in fury; the leaves torn from the
trees filled the air, succeeded by branches, many of considerable size.
"I must advise you, Miss Ferris, to take shelter within the house," said
Archie, "for one of those branches might injure you severely. Even the
verandah itself may be blown away. You have little conception of the
power of a West Indian hurricane."
As Ellen was hurrying into the house she met her father coming to look
for her.
"I am afraid we are going to have a violent storm, of which this wind is
only the precursor," he said. "We must seek for safety in the strongest
part of the house; it will not be safe to remain in the open air, or
even near the window, through which a branch or any other object may be
blown."
Ellen had accompanied her father to the dining-hall, which, being in the
centre of the house, was less exposed to danger than any other part of
the building. So loudly did the wind roar that even there it was
necessary to speak in a high tone to be heard.
"Oh, what will become of the _Ouzel Galley_ if she is caught in this
fearful gale!" exclaimed Ellen.
"She has by this time, I hope, gained a good offing; if the wind holds
as it now does, she will be able to run before it till she is out of
danger," answered Mr Ferris.
As the evening was now drawing rapidly on, the manager and book-keepers
came in from the works in the different parts of the estate. They all
looked somewhat anxious, though no damage had yet been done, and a hope
was entertained that it was not going to be anything serious after all.
Their spirits revived when suddenly the wind ceased and the atmosphere
became as clear as usual. Two or three of them had, however, again to
go out; and on their return they reported that the sky was once more
overcast, and that it was lightening in all quarters. Presently the
rain came down in true tropical fashion, again to stop and again to go
on with greater energy than before. Sometimes it was perfectly calm,
but the lightning continued darting forth from the sky with awful
grandeur; sometimes the whole upper regions of the air were illuminated
by incessant flashes, but the quivering sheet of blazing fire was far
surpassed in brilliancy by the electric fluid which was exploding in
every direction. Ellen and her father and young Sandys were standing as
near one of the windows as they could venture, when they saw a meteor of
deep red hue and globular form descending perpendicularly from an
enormous height. As it approached the earth its motion appeared to be
accelerated, and it then became of dazzling whiteness, elongating in
form till, dashing on the ground, it splashed around like molten lead or
quicksilver and disappeared. The next instant the hurricane again burst
forth, rushing amid the trees with the sound of a heartrending and
piercing scream, so loud as entirely to drown the human voice. The
whole building shook and trembled as if an earthquake was taking place
and it was about to be hurled to the ground. Mr Ferris, seizing
Ellen's arm, dragged her into a doorway.
"Should the house not withstand this furious blast, we shall be safer
here than anywhere else," he said.
Young Sandys followed them. Mr Twigg, with his wife and children, was
at the time in another room. Ellen naturally felt anxious for her
friends, and young Sandys offered to go and ascertain how they were
getting on. He quickly returned with the report that they were all
safe, and that the children were clinging round their parents, overcome
with terror, and shrieking piteously. No thunder was at any time heard,
and all agreed that even if the whole battery of a line-of-battle ship
had been going off, the sound would not have been distinguished above
the horrible roar and yelling of the wind and the noise of the ocean, as
its tumultuous waves dashed on the shore, threatening every instant to
sweep over the land and engulf all within their reach. The wind
continually shifted, now blowing from one quarter, now from another.
Suddenly the deafening noise sank into a solemn murmur, and the
lightning, which had hitherto played in flashes and forked darts,
hovered for a few seconds between the clouds and the earth, circling
round and round, causing the whole heavens to appear on fire, when a
similar luminous appearance seemed to burst from the ground, and,
rising, the mass rushed upwards to the sky. After a short interval,
again was felt the breath of the whirlwind with even greater fury than
before, and it seemed as if everything on the face of the earth would be
swept away into the boiling ocean. Again the earth was shaken, and the
house vibrated with a violence which threatened its instant destruction.
Mr Ferris kept a firm hold of his daughter's arm, and she, in a way
which surprised him as well as herself, maintained her composure during
the whole of this fearful strife of the elements. Not till daylight
returned did the fury of the tempest altogether cease; sometimes it
abated, again to burst forth with almost the same power as before. The
house itself, having been strongly built and the roof fixed on with the
greatest care, withstood the hurricane, a portion only at one end having
been blown off; but the out-buildings were materially damaged. Mr
Ferris and his managers waited anxiously to hear a report of the damage
which had been done to the estate. Round the house many trees had been
torn from their roots, others snapped short off, and all had more or
less suffered. The ocean still continued to rage with unabated fury,
even after the wind itself had ceased Ellen naturally looked along the
horizon, but not a sail was in sight, and again and again she asked what
could have become of the _Ouzel Galley_. Her affection for Norah made
her feel as if she was herself personally interested in the fate of the
brave young commander, as much as Mr Ferris was in reality in that of
the ship. He could no longer conceal his anxiety about the _Ouzel
Galley_. How she had fared was the subject of earnest discussion
between him and Mr Twigg. The latter thought it just possible that she
might have got beyond the influence of the hurricane before it burst
with its full fury; and if not, might have weathered it out, as many a
stout ship with plenty of sea room had weathered similar hurricanes
before. He acknowledged, however, that she might have been caught by
it, and if so, while the wind blew from the northward, might have been
driven on shore. The latter point would in time be ascertained, and as
soon as possible a messenger was despatched along the coast, who, though
he reported several shipwrecks, had ascertained that the _Ouzel Galley_
was not among them.
"She was well found and not overladen, and as well able to keep afloat,
even in such a sea as we saw running, as any ship which ever sailed the
ocean," observed Mr Ferris. "We shall hear, I trust, in due course of
her arrival."
Dreadful as the hurricane had appeared, the damage done was not as great
as might have been expected. It was the opinion of many that only the
tail of the hurricane had passed over the island. It was bad enough as
it was. In some places the country appeared as if scorched by fire, in
others the crops were totally destroyed; numerous buildings were
levelled with the ground, and the trees and shrubs uprooted; a number of
people had been killed, and many more seriously injured, by being struck
by shingles from the roofs or branches from the trees, and by other hard
substances which went hurtling like cannon-shot through the air. So
rapid, however, is vegetation in the tropics that nature herself would
repair much of the damage produced, and the industry of man the
remainder--although the proprietors had to suffer severely in their
pockets, while there was no power to restore to life the unhappy beings
who had been killed.