HOW WE SAIL TO JOIN THE PEARL FLEET, AND THE NEGRO DIVER’S STORY.
The night I sailed from Carthagena was as starry and still as that
in which I entered the bay. Negro fishermen, in canoes, again sung
rude ditties as they shot their lines for pisareros—the rigging of
stately merchantmen again cut with many dark and interlaced lines the
sparkling sky—and again, and for the last time, I heard the bells of
the rich Monastery of the Hill come pealing over the music of the
surf.
The night-breeze was very faint and feeble, so ‘Out sweeps’ was
the word; and presently all the crew, myself among the rest, were
tugging at our great heavy oars, and slowly urging the small bark
out to sea. We were not alone upon the water—close to us, another
vessel of our own rig and size, and bound upon the same voyage, was
making head in the same way—the blades of her long oars sparkling
in the sea, and both crews singing and shouting cheerily to each
other. Every year there sails from Carthagena to the pearl banks
of the Rio de la Hacha, about a dozen or a dozen and a half small
vessels, called the Pearl Fleet. The greater part of the squadron had
already gone, with a man-of-war to guard them. We were laggards, but
Garbo, so the captain of our bark was named, trusted in a few days
to join his comrades upon the banks. The Pearl Fleet is composed of
small ships generally used for coasting. When I describe our craft,
called the Pintado, the reader will have a good notion of all. She
was, then, a two-masted vessel, of about thirty tons burthen, very
shallow, and of great beam. Her mould was beautifully designed,
sharp and wedge-like at the bows, with her sides towards the gunwale
gently curved, as it were, like the lips of a bell, so that let her
lie over before a smart gale, as much as she would, it was next to
impossible to capsize her. She was but partially decked, towards
the stem and stern, having an open space amidships, which was used
when fishing for heaping the oysters in. Her crew consisted of four
Spanish seamen, the captain, and two negro divers, of whom more anon.
Thus there were eight of us in all, and we lived stowed away as we
could best manage it, in the two little choky cabins, forward and
aft, there being no distinction made between captain and crew. My
up-bringing was not, as you may guess, much calculated to make me
squeamish about where I lived and where I lay, but I confess, that
the sweltering holes, all greasy and foul, with their brown swarms of
cockroaches, and every now and then their stray centipedes, in which
the Spanish sailors ate their garlic-smelling messes, and in which
they flung themselves down often in their wet frowzy steaming clothes
to sleep—I say these cabins were so horribly choky and miserable
that, day and night, I kept upon deck, although, from the sharpness
of the bark’s model forward, and the quickness of her pitch, she was
very wet. Indeed, when it blew stronger than common, we shipped so
much water, that we had to cover the open waist with a species of
grating on which tarpaulings were stretched tightly, otherwise we
would speedily have filled and gone down. The bark carried two tall,
slim masts, raking very much aft, and supporting a couple of large
lug or square sails, over which two broad, but low topsails, could be
hoisted. Round her decks, at stem and stern, was a low iron rail, but
no bulwark, so that the washing of the sea over us, in a breeze, was
almost incessant.
Garbo, the captain, was a good fellow, and a prime seaman, and
he only on board knew that I was an Englishman, and what my real
intentions were. The rest of the crew were told that I was a mariner
of the Low Countries, who had also served in Spanish ships at home.
They were a wild-looking set of fellows, with short trousers, not
reaching much below the knee, broad leathern belts, in which were
stuck formidable knives, and round their heads they wore yellow silk
kerchiefs, over which they clapped broad straw hats during the heat
of the day. All of them carried crucifixes of a black wood ornamented
with gold, and if they did not pray much to the saints, at least
they swore sufficiently by them. The two negroes took no part in the
management of the ship, except it might be now and then lending a
hand to their shipmates when a rope required an extra strain. One
of them was very tall and gaunt, the other was short and stout. The
latter, who was called by some common Spanish name, which I forget,
was, or pretended to be, a Christian. He had a crucifix slung round
his neck by a bit of rope yarn, and gabbled away about the saints
like the European part of the crew. Further, he was quite ‘Hail
fellow, well met,’ with the Spaniards. He played a sort of wooden
drum, and sung strange uncouth songs of his country to them, and
sometimes he would mimic the manners and voice of some one of the
Spaniards very skilfully, and to the great delight of the rest. In
fact, he was a fat, little, good-natured, hearty soul, with a grin
almost always upon his black mug, and, except when he was asleep, his
chattering tongue never lay still. He would go gambolling about the
deck like an overgrown monkey, whooping, and grinning, and singing,
so that not a soul on board but he would set at last to laughing as
loudly as himself. His comrade was a man of a very different sort,
and him I would describe particularly. He was the blackest negro I
ever saw, not having anything of the brown copper colour which some
of that people and the Indians show. On the contrary, his skin was
of a most sooty black hue, without the least redness of tinge. I
have seen many big and strong men, but a vaster, a more gaunt, yet
sinewy form, than that of this black, saw I never. He was more than
six feet high; his great spreading shoulders were lumps of bone and
hardened muscle, and his huge chest rose and fell so slowly, that
he seemed to breathe but half as often as other men on board. His
limbs were immensely gaunt and spare, and nothing but his great
splay feet, which covered more than two streaks of the deck, could
support the pile of bone and sinew which they bore erect. The face of
the diver was most ill-favoured and lowering. It was a broad, flat
visage, like the face of a grim and grisly idol. Just under the low,
wrinkled forehead, two little pig eyes winked forth, half hidden by
the patches of eyebrow which scowled in hairy folds above them. The
corners of the fat blubber lips were drawn down with a most sour and
evil expression, and all round them, and on the chin, were ragged
sprouts of beard, like flakes of black wool stuck upon the grisly
visage. Such was the tall diver, who was called by his African name
of Wooroo. His speech was broken Spanish, which he did not speak half
so well as his countryman, the short negro. But, in truth, he seldom
spoke at all, being generally squatted on his hams in some remote
corner of the vessel, where he would pass hours muttering to himself.
He wore a pair of tattered old breeches, and upon his naked chest,
fastened round his neck, there lay a sort of amulet, or charm, made
of feathers, stuck through a ball of hard baked clay, crammed into a
rude wooden case full of uncouth carvings. He was a worshipper of Ob,
and this was his fetish.
‘Look at that hangdog thief Wooroo,’ said Garbo to me the second
afternoon we were at sea. ‘That fellow has just two good qualities.
He is the best diver who ever went into the sea, and he is tractable
to me who am his owner. I took him from the mines among the
mountains, and the animal, after his sort, is grateful. For, in
truth, I believe that he is amphibious in his nature, and that the
water is as necessary for him that he may live, as is land, and,
perhaps, a little more so.’ In answer to my further inquiries, the
captain said that he was a slave, brought from the Guinea coast,
where of late a great many negroes had been delivered up bound by
tribes hostile to them, and sold to Spaniards, Englishmen, Frenchmen,
and others, who employed them in those sorts of work in the Indies,
which white men cannot perform and live. Soon after this, imagining,
from the sombre and brooding look of this savage, that he could if
he pleased tell us some story of his nation and of his captivity
which would be worth hearing, I communicated my thought to Garbo.
The captain laughed. ‘What can the savage have to say,’ quoth he,
‘but that some other savage fetched him a blow on the head with a
war-club, or battle-axe, and then sold him to some Spanish trader for
a cup of strong waters? But you shall be gratified: that is, if the
monster chooses to unloose his tongue.’
That night, the captain keeping the first watch, the weather being
clear, and we and our consort sliding slowly over the long swells
of the sea, the captain called the negro aft to where we sat upon
the deck. The savage came with his usual slouching gait and scowling
visage.
‘Wooroo,’ quoth the captain, ‘we want to hear something about you;
where you were born, and how you came hither.’
The gigantic African only stared.
‘Come, now,’ says Captain Garbo, ‘tell us your story, Wooroo—tell us
about what you were in Africa, and what you did there.’
The black at last opened his blubber lips, and replied, in broken
Spanish, which I may render into English thus: ‘What am me to you?
What you want hear about me for?’
‘Never mind that, Wooroo,’ says the captain, ‘if we have a fancy to
hear you speak. I will give you brandy, man.’
The eyes of the negro glistened, and Captain Garbo winking at me,
went on: ‘You shall be drunk, Wooroo; drunker than you ever were
before, Caramba! so drunk that you can’t lie flat even without
holding on by the mast.’
It was pitiful to see how the brute-man shook himself with pleasure,
and how his features worked.
‘You make me very drunk—dead drunk?’ he grunted.
‘As dead as though you were smothered in a brandy cask, you
two-legged hog,’ returned the captain; ‘and what’s more, you shall
have a draught to wet your whistle, and set your tongue loose at
once.’ So saying, the Spaniard disappeared down the narrow hatch,
and presently emerged, bearing a large leathern bottle, with three
drinking mugs, one of which he filled with hot, strong brandy; the
savage tossed it off and held out the vessel for more.
‘No, no,’ said Garbo; ‘you shall not get drunk until we have the
story out of you. Come, heave a-head!—heave a-head!’
The black at this began to speak. First, he discoursed in a
monotonous tone, all the while eyeing the brandy, and evidently
thinking of it. But presently, as he proceeded, he warmed over the
tale, and spoke with emphasis, and often in a loud, fast tone, making
violent gesticulations with his black, brawny arms, until, at length,
as his excitement increased, he would, every now and then, burst
from the broken Spanish, in which he, no doubt, found it difficult
to clothe his thoughts, into his own tongue, a strange, husky
sputtering, rising, as it were, from his very stomach; but being
promptly admonished on these occasions that we were not savages,
and understood not the gabble of his coast, he would stop, ask for
a little brandy, and having drunk it, resume again his narrative in
such Spanish as he could speak. I will try to give in English some
imitation of his words; only the reader must remember that they
seemed doubly strange to me, hearing them, as I did, in the harsh,
deep tones of the savage, and marking his glistening teeth, and
white, staring eyeballs, and clenched fists wildly waved around while
he spoke. Somewhat in this fashion ran his tale.
The Story of the Negro Diver.
‘I come from across the sea, and I am a slave. I dive into the
water, and I bring up shell-fish, with white stones, which Spaniards
worship. I am a great diver, and I can kill sharks with the sharp
knife I carry in my hand. I was born in a wood, near a river. I curse
them who carried me away. I make fetish to curse them. I ask the big
Spirit that lives in fever mists to torment them. They are not alive,
but bad wishes follow dead men to where they go. I helped to kill
them, but still they carried me away across the sea, and I am here!
‘I was born in a wood near a river. The trees grew in the water, and
the slime of the water was oily at their roots. At night a hot mist
came—very damp. Sometimes no moon, no stars, shine through that mist.
It is the breath of the spirit of that land, and it kills strangers
who come from afar. In the woods it was very dark, the branches kept
the sun out; but near the river were huts, and round them corn grew
and maize, for there the trees were burnt with fire, and the sun came
hot—hot. My father was a warrior, and could slay his foes. He was
strong, and had a great fetish. His war-club was heavy, and his bow
was long, and his arrows hit the mark. My mother toiled, she reaped
and baked, she thatched the hut, she paddled the canoe, she was
strong. If she grew tired, my father lifted his war-club and then she
worked on. In the hut was a broad bed of leaves, also calabashes to
drink from, spears and clubs, and tools of iron. Also knives and an
axe, which white men made. Also a god of palm-wood, with a necklace
of wild beasts’ teeth. One hour from the hut, the brown river met the
sea: there was a bay there, and many huts. Where the river met the
sea were rocks: canoes could go from the salt-water to the fresh,
but not ships, because of the rocks, on which were white waves, very
fierce and high. In a big hut near the sea, the king lived, with
all his wives and slaves. He was a great king, and made war upon
other kings. My father went to these wars, but I stayed in the hut
at home. When I was yet little, I learned to dive and to swim, and
to paddle a canoe. I loved the water better than the woods. I loved
the brown river, and the sea which tossed, and heaved. If the waves
filled the canoe, it was nothing to me; I laughed and swam. If a
great root of a tree in the brown slimy river upset the canoe, it was
nothing to me; I laughed and swam. I did not fear the shark out in
the blue water; I could dive under him when he turned upon his back
to swallow me, and his teeth glistened in white rows. I did not fear
the muddy crocodile in the river, and in the silent creeks, black
and deep, which he loves: his back is hard, but his belly is soft,
and I could drive a knife into him, so that he would lash his scaly
tail and die. I tell you I could swim on the water like birds which
live there, and I could dive like the fishes which are beneath. My
father could swim and he could dive, but I could swim further and
dive deeper. My father called me the “Long-breathed,” and when ships
came to where the river joins the sea, I dived down from them, and
the mariners gave me cloth and nails. Then I was happy; I had enough
to eat, and oil to anoint me and make my limbs supple and strong, and
a fetish which was very good.
‘Soon came a great ship to where the river met the sea, and the men
of our nation and the king went on board to trade. We had oil to
give them, and the teeth of great beasts, and the dust of gold all
glittering, which merchants brought from where the sun rises. But the
captain said to the king, I not want palm-oil, nor teeth, nor gold.
I want men, I want slaves, and I will buy them; not palm-oil, nor
teeth, nor gold. When the king heard this, he went to war, and the
warriors of my nation went with him. There was a battle, likewise
many huts burnt, but the captain gave the king guns, and he returned
with many slaves, men and women—for bows and arrows are not so good
to fight with as guns, which shoot thunder. Then the slaves were sent
on board the great ship, and the captain gave us strong drink, and
we were drunk and happy, and we said we would go to war and bring
more slaves.
‘So afterwards this was our trade. I likewise went to war—I
likewise made slaves. We went many days from the sea, to where
there were other nations. We had guns, and they had but bows and
arrows, likewise lances, and clubs of wood which fire had hardened.
Therefore, many were killed, and many were slaves, and we kept them
until ships came, and then sold them, and they were taken away over
the sea; but we were rich and powerful, and had plenty of strong
drink, which we loved; though many died of it.’
‘As you will, Wooroo,’ says Captain Garbo, interrupting him, ‘if you
only get enough of it.’
‘Give some now,’ answered the negro. He drank off a small mugful, and
went on, with more and more animation, as follows:—
‘Once a ship came, and she waited for slaves outside the rocks,
where the sea burst white. Then I had a hut and a wife, and slaves
of my own, and lived near where the king lived, and he knew that I
was a warrior, and exceeding skilful in the water. One night the
sky was black—black—and the sea moaned like a slave that moans for
his country and his wife, and there were sounds amid the branches
of the big trees; also birds sang strangely, and the frogs croaked
very loud from the marsh where they lived. Therefore, I knew that a
great wind was coming to the land, from far off in the sea; and when
I lay in my hut upon blankets, and listened, the storm blew loud,
and I heard the great noise of the waves. In the morning, the sun
was red in the sky, and I looked and saw the ship that was waiting
for slaves, and she was tossed upon the waves, and the white men
were waving their arms to us, who stood upon the shore. Not far from
the ship were great rocks, and we knew that if she struck upon such
rocks, she would break, and the white men would be drowned. But for
a long time she was safe, because heavy anchors and strong ropes
held her in her place: but the wind was great, and the ropes broke:
then the white men cried with a loud shout, and the ship struck upon
the rocks and was broken, and the white men drowned. In the night,
the wind went to sleep and the stars shone, and on the morrow the
sun was hot and bright upon the sea. So, soon we went to the broken
ship; there were great treasures there of iron and cloth, and powder,
which we dried, and casks of strong drink. There was more iron and
cloth, and strong drink, than we could get for many slaves, won at
many battles. Therefore we were glad that the rope broke, and the
white men were drowned, because we had all. After this, many ships
came, but great winds did not come, and we went to war, and my father
was killed; but for all the slaves we brought, we did not get so
much cloth, and iron, and powder, and strong drink, as we got when
the ship was broken, and the white men drowned. At this the king was
angry—I was angry: all the warriors of my nation were angry—and when
a great ship came again, the king went into the wood to an Obi man
that lived there, and asked him that he would make a fetish, so that
a wind would arise out of the sea, and break the ship, that we might
have all. The Obi man was good. He answered in these words—“I will
make a fetish and give it to Wooroo. Great ropes hold the ship, but
sharp knives can cut great ropes. Then a small wind will break the
ship upon the rock. The white men fire at canoe, if canoe go near the
ropes; but Wooroo a great diver—Wooroo a great swimmer—Wooroo has
a sharp knife—Wooroo can dive deep down below the sea, and cut the
ropes.”
‘Then the king told me what the Obi man said, and I was glad, and
sharpened my knife, and waited for a wind. The men of my nation knew
it too, and we were glad, and said that the Obi man was wise. At
last a wind came strong over the sea, and rattled the boughs of the
forest, and the waves were white on the rocks. Then I went into the
sea to swim and dive and cut the ropes. The surf was wild, but I
am a great swimmer, and the surf could not drown me; and so I swam
away out from the coast. I swam long. When I sank down into the
valley between the waves, I could only see water—not land, nor the
ship. Thus I passed to windward of the ship. If they saw my head,
they thought it was a piece of wood, or a bird, or the head of some
creature that lives in the sea. At length I was near the ship, and I
saw the great rope from her bows going down into the water. I looked
what way the rope went—it was under me. I drew my knife—I took a long
breath—I dived. Down many fathoms I saw the rope; it stretched dimly
out in the green sea. I clutched it; it shook—it trembled. Sometimes
it slackened—sometimes it jerked out like an iron bar. I clung to
it. The sea heaved and twisted me round and round it; but the knife
was very sharp—my arm was very strong. The knife was half through
the rope, when there came a jerk through all its strands, and it was
torn asunder. One part was wrested out of my grasp, the other sank
slowly into the sea. I rose up to the surface. I was almost spent;
I swam faintly; I rested on the rolling sea. Then from the top of a
wave I looked at the ship; she was already near the rock, and her
side was to the waves. Men were in the rigging and among the ropes;
they strived to loose the sails, but they had no time. The ship
struck—the waves went over her—the masts fell—the crew were drowned!
As I swam to land, I heard the people of my nation—how they shouted
and were glad! That ship fared like the others—she broke, and we had
the spoil. The powder, the cloth, the iron, and all things which we
valued. Only three white men were saved, and we made them slaves.
We sent them up the dark river, and into the dark woods far from
the sea. They cried, and were in despair. They were sold to another
nation, and we had the riches and rejoiced.’
‘You infernal villain!’ cried Garbo. ‘The fellow talks of wrecking
ships and drowning men by his devilish treachery, as if the tale were
of building churches and saying masses.’
‘I say truth,’ replied the negro. ‘Give me more strong drink.’ The
captain shrugged his shoulders, and refilled the savage’s cup. The
barbarian, whose eyes now began to gleam like a wild cat’s, broke out
into a hoarse, guttural laugh, so savage and strange, that the watch
on the forecastle called out to know what the noise was.
‘It is only Wooroo singing,’ answered the captain. ‘Go on, Wooroo.’
The negro, who was now getting excited by his story and the drink,
needed no spurring.
‘Ha! ha!’ he began, with that horrid laugh again. ‘Two ships come
after. Two times I sharpened my knife; two times I went into the sea;
two times I cut the great rope, and the ships struck the rocks and
were broken. Some of the white men were drowned. Those who were not,
we sold, and they were taken away, many days’ journey to the rising
sun, and there will be until they die, as I am, slaves.
‘But we were wealthy and great. The king was powerful. He had more
carabines, more iron, and more cloth than any king before. Strong
drink ran amongst us like water in a river. We drank, we yelled, we
whooped, we flung brands from the fire among the huts, and they were
burned. Evil demons lived in those casks, and when we drank the fiery
drinks, they entered in unto us and made us mad, and no man knew his
brother. We fought among the burning houses, and the charred rafters
were wet with blood. At length there came a ship to which we had
already given slaves. We went aboard. I was on board with the king.
We went into the great cabin, and they gave us more strong drink.
They heard of four ships having been broken on the rocks hard by, and
they asked us how it was. We said that a wind came up out of the sea,
and that the ships were broken. They then asked us where the white
men were, and we said that they were all drowned in the sea. On that
they gave us more strong drink, and fires began to flash before our
eyes. It was sweet drink, sweeter than ever we had tasted, and we
drank greedily. The white men encouraged us, but they did not drink
themselves, and they talked, of the ships that were broken. But we
were getting mad, and we knew no more what we did. So the white men
said that, if the king’s people were cunning, many more ships would
be broken, and the king’s people would be rich. Then we fell into the
snare, because we were mad with the strong drink, and we yelled out,
and danced, and told the white men that they were but fools, and I
drew out my knife, and I said: “Look here. This knife cut the great
ropes that went down to the bottom of the sea, and the ships were
broken. I cut the great ropes. I have a strong fetish. I am a great
diver and a great swimmer.” After this I remember nothing, but that I
was asleep, and that I awoke. It was in a dark place, very hot, and
I could scarcely breathe. On my arms and legs were mighty chains.
I called out, and a voice answered me in the darkness. It was the
voice of the king, and he said, “I am chained, I know not where.” We
shouted, and screamed, and clanked our chains, and then when we lay
still, we felt the prison we were in move with a regular motion, and
we knew that we were in a ship upon the sea. So, white men came with
lanterns, and they told us we were slaves. We roared and howled at
them, and spit upon them, but our chains would not allow us to rise
and kill them. Therefore they laughed, and asked me if I would swim
and dive and cut the great rope that held the ship to the bottom of
the sea, so that the king’s people might be rich. First, we trusted
in our fetishes, but they did not help us; and the king said: “Once
go ashore, and me catch the Obi man, and send the tum-tum drum
through the wood, and the people come, and me burn the Obi man for a
sacrifice; me burn him with fire, and torment him till he die.” But
we did not go ashore—we were slaves. Then other slaves come, men and
women, and lay down in the dark with us. The white men were there
with whips and sticks, and they tormented us, until we lay so that we
were one great lump of human flesh. All through the ship, oh! there
was the heat, and the stench, and the sweat, and the roarings! There
was no light but from two little hatchways with gratings, and square
bits of light came down there; but I was far from them, and the air
I breathed was more foul than the mist fever that comes up out of the
swamp with the smell of the rotten mud.’
The poor devil told this part of his strange tale with a visible
shudder. He went on.
‘The ship sailed away, and there were waves very rough, and the
slaves lay sick, rolling over each other, roaring and fighting to
get near the hatchways. But white men, with iron bars, struck them,
and drove them back. The white men struggled backwards and forwards,
and beat and slashed the slaves with iron bars and knives. They
carried lanterns at first, but the fire went out in the bad air and
the stench. The place was only as high as half a man; there were
hundreds and hundreds driven into it. The smoke of our bodies rose
out of the hatchways. We struggled and tore each other with hands and
teeth, because of the agony of sickness and smothering. We coughed,
and gasped, and panted, and dashed ourselves here and there in our
chains. Soon many died. The white men dragged out the corpses and
took them away. In our struggles, we kicked the dying beneath our
feet. Sometimes they clasped our legs, and tried to scratch or bite.
The corpses were cold and soft beneath us, and all around was slime,
and dirt, and air that was rotten, and one stench of corruption and
of death.
‘In half a moon, more than half of the slaves were dead and thrown
overboard. The king was yet alive; when he came on board, he was
oily and fat, but now his bones were sticking out like knots and
splinters, and he was covered with sores, as a leopard with spots.
We lived on the flour of cassava and water. White men came down with
great baskets of it mixed, and we plunged in our hands and drew out
lumps of leaven, and ate. We did not now fight or struggle, but lay
and tried to sleep; we had more room, and five or six died every
day, because the stench had brought the fever spirit, and he sailed
with us in the dark hold. Then, one night when the white moon was
coming down the hatchway, the captain of the ship approached, and
turned his lantern upon us as we lay—the king and me—where they had
first chained us down. Then he began to ask where were the white men
who were carried off after the ships broke, to be slaves. But he
stopped and said to two sailors who were with him, “Take off their
chains and bring them on the deck; it is better to speak there in
the moonlight, than in this stench.” Our chains were taken off—we
climbed the ladder—we passed the hatchway—and we stood upon the deck.
The moon shone, as it shone above my hut—above the dark woods—above
the dark river—above my country; the breeze was sweet to taste, as
palm wine after bitter water. The white men slept upon the deck—the
ship went steady before the night wind which came over the sea. It
was good. The captain asked us again where the white men were slaves,
and we told him a moon and two moons and three moons from where
the dark river joined the sea. Then we said, that if he carried us
back the white men would be found, and he would have them, and we
would go ashore and we would make war and bring him many slaves and
never cut the great ropes again. The captain spoke to the two white
men who were with him, and very soon they took us down below, but
they did not chain us again; many other slaves were also unchained,
for all were very quiet; and when the white men struck them, or
cut their flesh with their knives, they only groaned or cursed in
their throats. I lay awake all that night, and the god that stood in
my father’s hut, with the necklace of wild beasts’ teeth, gave me
thoughts in my heart. I said to myself, we are slaves, but we may
be masters; only one watches at the hatchway—at night the wind is
small and the sea is smooth—the white men sleep in the moonlight—we
may arise and kill them, and have the ship and its riches. I thought
these things long to myself, and before the dawn I wakened the king
and told him, and we conversed in whispers; the next day we told
others, who were the stoutest men left, and who could speak the
language of our nation. Thus we agreed, and we searched for billets
of wood and spikes of iron, and bits of chains or fetters, to arm
ourselves. The night came again, and the moon shone again through
the hatchway. The wind was small and the sea smooth, and on deck the
white men slept in the moonshine. Then every man adored his fetish,
and called upon his god that he believed in, to help. I gave the
sign, which was a shout of war, such as we raised when we rushed upon
a sleeping village of our enemies to capture slaves. Then we all
rushed at the hatchway—we tossed aside the grating of heavy wood and
iron, as though it had been of the wattled hurdles which we planted
round our fields. We were free. We shouted—we climbed—we leaped—we
swarmed out in the moonshine. The white man who stood armed by the
hatchway had only time to fire his carabine among us. Then a score of
sticks, and iron chains, with handcuffs swung to them, split asunder
his head. In a moment he was overboard and sunk in the sea. The
white men were conquered. Some were asleep in hammocks, some on the
deck. With great shouts and screams we rushed at them. We tore them
from their beds. We dashed them on the deck. We slashed them with
the knives we found. We hove them overboard. And the sharks which
followed us from Africa, and were fat with the flesh of our fellows,
swallowed the white men also. Therefore we were the masters of the
ship, and it seemed a good slave; for when all the white men were
dead and gone, it sailed on, and the small wind blew, and the sea was
smooth, just as before. I looked then for the king, but he was dead.
The one shot which the white man fired struck him—the ball drove the
fetish of feathers, which was upon his breast, into his heart. He was
dead, and the sharks had him also.
‘Then all my countrymen called out, and said that I was king in his
place, and that we must go back to Africa, to the deep forests and
the dark rivers, to their huts, and their wives, and their slaves,
to where the panther leaped and the crocodile swam, and the large
bats hung in clusters from the trees. So they led me to the helm, and
they said, “Steer us home.” There were clouds then over the moon,
and the night was dark. I said, “Wait until the morning, and I will
steer you home.” The morning came, the clouds passed away, the sun
rose, and the wind came fast over the sea. They said again, “Steer
us home.” But I looked around. I looked far and near. There was no
land, only water. As in the desert there is only sand; so round us
there was only water. It was the same on the right hand and on the
left. There was the sky and the sea, and that was all. How could I
steer them home? But if I said I could not steer them home, they
would kill me; therefore I took the tiller in my hand. I stayed by it
all day. Those who were the masters of the ship and of me, danced and
sung about the deck. Sometimes they asked when we would be at home.
I said, soon. They thought that I could conduct the ship to land.
They would not let me leave the tiller. They brought food there. I
slept there. I was afraid to move. I did not know the road home. Days
came and turned into nights, and nights into days again. The sun
rose out of the sea, sometimes on the right hand, sometimes on the
left; sometimes before us, sometimes behind us. We were wandering
upon the sea; a moon passed over us, and they said to me, “We are not
yet at home; there is no land, only water. Take us home, or we will
kill you, as you made us kill the white men.” Then I was sorry that
we killed the white men. The night after, the wind grew loud, and
the waves beat over the ship. I did not know what to do. The sails
were left as the white men had spread them. The ship was tossed. She
moaned, and groaned, and plunged deep into the waves. The sails made
strange noises, the masts reeled and bent as trees in a hurricane.
Then one by one they broke, and fell into the sea. The foam flew over
us all night. A great load of masts, and ropes, and sails lay upon
the decks, and from the decks they reached down into the sea. These
we cut asunder with hatchets, for they were pulling the ship down
into the depths; and when the morning came, the wind had gone away,
and the ship lay quite still. She had no masts, and no sails; and as
a man without legs cannot walk, so a ship without rigging cannot move
upon the ocean.
‘And still all on board cried, “Take us home.” Then I said to them,
“We cannot go home, there are no sails; we must die here upon the
sea.” Then for the first time I left the helm. I knew one thing that
none else there knew—I knew where there was the strong drink.’
‘Ay, that I’ll be bound you did!’ said Captain Garbo.
I watched, and when none saw, when it was dark, I took a great vessel
of strong drink, and also bread and meat, and went down with them
into the deep places of the ship. I went near the keel. I sat in
darkness, with beams around me, and ropes, and the rotten water that
flowed slowly in from the sea—and which moved with regular tides,
backwards and forwards, because of the ship rolling on the waves.
That water had the smell of the thick mud in the creeks among the
woods, after the rains, when the mists arise. It washed and gurgled
over the slimy wood, and also the rusty chains and nails which lay
at the bottom of the ship. There I ate and drank, and no one saw me.
I heard them howling up above, for they knew not where I was; but
they knew they were to die upon the sea. I stayed there drinking and
sleeping. The strong drink was good, it made me drunk; it made me as
if I was back again where the dark river joins the sea. When the jug
was dry I went for more. It was night, and a great wind was blowing
over the waves, and the ship rose up and sank down, like the first
ship that went upon the rocks and was broken. The people were running
on the deck—they were in fear; they said the sea was coming up over
the ship. I did not care; I knew where the strong drink was. I got
another jug, greater than the first, I also got some bread. As I
passed in the dark, I heard a man say to a woman, “In two days there
will be no food left.” I did not care; I went with the strong drink
into the secret place of the ship. There I lay among the ropes and
beams, and the stinking water which gurgled among them, as the waves
beat hard on the outside. It was like a cave in the woods: it was
like the den of the wild beasts. I burrowed in it like the crocodile
in his abiding place, among the weeds and the thick herbage which
grows by the creek. There I ate, there I drank—oh, much—much. The
strong drink was like fire in me, and like light to me; it showed me
my hut, where the river joins the sea; it showed me sun, and moon,
and stars, and the sky over the woods and the sea; it showed me the
deep waters where I paddled my canoe, and where I swam, and where I
dived. I shouted and sang war-songs, and those above thought that
the spirits of their enemies were exulting and were singing. When
the jug was empty I went on deck. Many days had come and gone away
into the past. The deck was full of people; they lay upon the planks,
they groaned and cried, they were starving, and they yelled out for
water, and for cassava, and millet, and maize, and rice. I went to
the secret place where were the strong drinks. Lo! there were no
more! Others found out the place, and took the drinks. I searched
everywhere, but there was nothing—not a drop—not a crumb. There was
no more food, no more drink—now we must die. I sat upon the deck, so
did all; no man or woman spoke: sometimes one moaned—that was all.
It was the same in the sunlight and the moonlight—when the air did
not move and when the wind was strong. I looked upon the sky, it was
always blue, there were no clouds from dawn-time to sun-setting:
there was no rain to cool our lips; our tongues swelled and our
throats were dry—as dry as the hole which the scorpion burrows in the
hot sand. The people died one by one. When, they died they lay upon
the deck where they fell; they rotted there amongst us, but we did
not move to throw them to the sharks. At last there were ten men and
women dead, to one man or woman living; then we spoke and we talked
who would die next. One said he would, and another, that he would.
When we die we fly back to Africa, and we said one to the other,
“If you die first, you say we are coming: you say we are flying
in the air behind you to Africa, to the dark woods and the dark
river.” Then I sent messages to my father, who was killed in war,
and to the king; I sent them by a young man who was very weak, and
whose eyes were glazed. He lay close by me. I watched him well. His
breath came longer and longer—then it ceased, as a branch you move
ceases gradually to swing—and the jaw dropped down. I said, “Ha! my
messenger has departed; I am glad.” That night there were but five
left. I was the strongest of the five, but I could not rise from my
seat amid the corpses. The breeze came fresh in the night; clouds
came with it, and out of the clouds rain fell. We held up our mouths
and we were refreshed. So, by means of the sweet rain, four out of
the five lived until the grey light came out and showed fogs hanging
on the water. The wind was small, and the sea smooth; and as the
sun climbed out of the ocean, the fogs rose up and melted away, and
we all gave a faint shout together, for not half an hour from us, a
great ship, with many sails, glided like a bird upon the sea. As we
looked, a canoe, with white men, came from the great ship, paddling
fast towards us, and soon the white men leaped up among the corpses
on the deck. They gave a great cry of horror when they saw all the
planks covered with bodies, some sitting, some lying, some piled up
upon each other in heaps—where fathers and sons, and brothers and
sisters, and husbands and wives, had died together—and they were
about to go back hastily into their canoe, but we all cried as with
one voice for water. Then they turned and beheld us, and after some
talking, they lifted us up and put us into the canoe, and rowed us to
their ship. So was it that we became slaves again. Then they spread
forth all sail, and our old ship, with its cargo of corpses, was left
drifting about on the sea.
‘We had good food and good water; we grew stout again, lusty, and
strong. A moon passed away, and then we saw land, and a city of the
white men. The city was called Porto Bello. We were sold there. My
master took me up far into great mountains, where there was gold. The
gold was down in the earth. The slaves dug holes in the sides of the
steep hills. We crawled into these holes. We dug and hammered in dark
places under ground, and white men with whips lashed us if we stopped
to rest. But I longed and panted again for rivers and the sea. I grew
weak, and my arms were soft and thin, and a spirit whispered to me,
and I put earth and clay into my mouth, and swallowed them. Other
slaves did the same, and slowly they died, and flew back to Africa.
I wanted to die, and I ate much clay. I was very sick and weak, but
they flogged me with whips, until I crawled into the holes, digging
and hollowing under the earth for gold. At last—’
‘At last,’ said Captain Garbo, ‘you have got so far with your story,
that I may finish it for you. Being on a visit to see some of the
gold mines of Darien, the overseer of one of them told me that he
was losing almost all his negroes of the disease or superstition
peculiar, I believe, to those Africans and called ‘dirt-eating.’
He pointed out to Wooroo there, as one of them who was dying the
fastest, and on my speaking to him, he told me what he has several
times repeated, that he was a great swimmer and a diver. So such
being the case, and being then, as now, much engaged in the pearl
fishery, I bought the fellow for a trifle, took him down to the
coast, and I am bound to say that a better hand under water never
plunged over a boat. As soon as he was afloat, he recovered his
health and spirits fast; and now, I suppose, there are not two men,
white or black, in the fleet, that the fellow could not grasp in
either of his hands, and smash their heads together.’
As soon as his master had interrupted him, and bade him cease
speaking, Wooroo lost all the look of intelligence and excitement
which had gleamed in his eyes. He sat like a brainless statue of
black wood. He had performed his task, and at length he held out both
hands towards the spirit-flask, and only muttered—
‘Give me the wages you said—make me much drunk.’
Captain Garbo, without a word, filled a large measure with brandy,
and handed it to the savage, who rose with it, and walked to a corner
in the deep-waist of the ship. Passing there an hour after, I saw the
brute lying insensibly drunk, with the empty measure still grasped in
his hand.