AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR.
My story was told to the two brothers, their sister being spared the
revelation. I deemed it too fearful to be imparted to a lady. A quarrel
with the boatman Black, ending in my defeat; my being flung overboard,
and compelled to save myself by swimming--this was sufficient to
explain the condition in which I had presented myself. I preferred, for
the time, submitting to a humiliation.
Wondering, Miss Woodley withdrew, leaving me to be more explicit with
her brothers. To them I told the whole story in all its details. It is
not necessary to say that both listened to the tale with astonishment.
It seemed too horrid for belief, but there was no room for incredulity.
My wound was a living witness to at least a portion of its truth, and
for the rest, the circumstances were sufficient.
There was a confirmation in the character of Bradley. Both knew the man
to be of a bad, brutal nature. Both had heard strange rumors concerning
him; conjectures as to his mode of life, and the means by which he had
so rapidly become rich, for at present he was so reputed. Gambling had
usually been given as the cause, but of late there had been whisperings
of a more sinister kind, in regard to the way in which Mr. Bradley had
become possessed of so much property.
These had assumed no definite shape. It was only hinted in a general
way that he must be engaged in some speculation besides the planting of
cotton--something not quite so legitimate.
We are talking of a time when New Orleans and its adjacent neighborhood
was not free from a taint of piracy on the high seas--to say nothing of
the African slave-trade--with many other combinations of crime almost
incredible.
Which of these might be the specialty of the Mississippi planter no one
appeared definitely to know.
My experience of the two preceding days had furnished the clue. I
had no longer a doubt that, along with the ostensible pursuit of
cotton-planting, Mr. Bradley secretly combined the calling of a
_pirate_--for by this name is the river robber familiarly known in the
region of the Mississippi.
My opinion was adopted by my listeners as I continued to tell them
what I had seen. The facts spoke for themselves. Besides, both had
heard of circumstances corroborative of what could be no longer called
suspicion. For some years past there had been reports of flat-boats
missing upon the Mississippi. Several had been spoken of. Henry Woodley
had himself heard of an especial case, which had occurred in the
preceding year. It was that of a flat, freighted with cotton, from a
plantation somewhere up the Arkansas river. Its owner had dispatched
it in charge of a crew of negroes, his own slaves, but had never heard
more either of cotton or crew.
Most people supposed these missing boats to have perished in squalls,
or "hurricanes," as they are called--to have gone to the bottom with
their crews along with them, an occurrence not uncommon upon the
Western rivers. But there were others who did not attribute all these
losses to the storm; people of a more suspicious way of thinking, in
whose memories were still fresh the exploits of the pirate Murrell.
This robber had somewhat innocently been assumed to be the last of his
race. Though it might be on a smaller scale, it was evident he had a
successor in the planter Bradley.
As we continued to discuss what had occurred, and examine it in all its
bearings, the whole scheme became clear. I now learnt for the first
time that Black and his associate Stinger were complete strangers to
the Woodley family. They had presented themselves on the Tennessee
plantation as professed flat-builders and boatmen; and in this
double capacity had they been employed. I recalled the fragment of
conversation I had overheard between Black and Bradley on the wood path
of the plantation. It had puzzled me at the time. Its signification
was now clear, and I could understand the interest which Bradley had
shown in the cotton crop about to be embarked. No doubt it was by his
directions Black and Stinger had shown themselves in that quarter, and
undertaken the building of the boat. They were simply his confederates
in a good scheme of piracy, of which we had evidence of only a single
act--no doubt far from being the first.
And there must have been murder, too! Where were the four negroes?
They could not be kept out of the way--with tongues silent in such a
transaction. Even if "run off" to Texas and sold, they could still
talk; their talking might not be worth much, but it would in time
direct suspicion upon the pirates, and put an end to the grand game
they were playing with such impunity.
It was a frightful reflection to think of the sad fate of these
unfortunate creatures--for we could scarce have a doubt of their having
been butchered in cold blood!
There was no time to dwell upon or talk of it. Time enough for that
when we had taken steps to be assured of its reality, and, if real, to
punish the perpetrators of such an atrocious crime.
And what was the primary step to be taken? That was the question that
came before us.
The intentions of the planter pirate were clear enough. His three
confederates would carry the boat on to New Orleans, where the cargo
could easily be disposed of. No doubt they had a ready way of doing
this through some _respectable_ cotton-broker in collusion with the
gang. Their object in taking so much trouble to alter the markings was
of course to prevent identification. This would be effectual, since
all cotton bales are alike--as much as eggs, peas, or sheep. The huge
parallelopipedon covered with coarse canvas "bagging," and confined in
its cording of hemp, is a thing not to be sworn to. Remove the mark,
and it may belong to anybody. The two hundred bales sent down from
Tennessee, worth over twelve thousand dollars, were for the time the
property of Nat Bradley, as could be proved by his plantation-mark!
Once sold by him, no man could reclaim them, that is without other
evidence to substantiate the claim.
But for what I had witnessed upon the island, this would have been
wanting. The boat that carried them would be easily put aside. Like all
of its kind, it would be sold at the levee wharf, at once, to be broken
up for firewood; or, what in this case was more likely, taken down the
river, and sunk during the darkness of the night.
Would Bradley himself go down in the flat? We thought not. It would
scarce comport with his character of rich planter and proprietor. Most
likely he would follow it in one of the steamboats, from Natchez, or
some near port. He may have taken the very one that brought Walter
Woodley to his brother's plantation.
He could hail it from some landing below.
What would be our best course to pursue?
Henry's counsel was, that we should all three proceed to New Orleans,
taking advantage of the first boat that came down the river, or what
would be better still, riding post-haste to Natchez, and getting a boat
there--one of the regular packets from that place to the great city
below. By this means we might anticipate the sale of the cotton, and so
recover it, at the same time bringing to justice the scoundrels that
had stolen it.
This scheme might have answered well enough as regarded the three
confederates. But, how about their chief? It would leave him a loophole
of escape, and this could not be thought of. For my part, I was
determined to punish the man who had twice made an attempt upon my
life. I looked upon Black as but the representative of Bradley.
We had no proof to connect the latter with any of the crimes that had
been committed. I could not swear to having seen him at the lagoon.
My oath as to the identification of his voice would be too slight a
testimony upon which to convict him, even of connivance. He would
deny that he had been present; and as to placing his name upon the
cotton-bales, any one might do that without either his knowledge or
sanction.
Unless one of the three confederates should turn state's evidence, the
chief pirate would escape the punishment he so justly deserved.
It would be a pity that any of the party should have such a chance,
and there was no need for it. Let the thing take its course, let the
cotton be sold and delivered, and then whether warehoused by a broker,
or bought by a bona-fide purchaser, it would become known to whom the
purchase-money was to be paid. Then we could discover who was chief of
the pirates, and get the whole gang within the meshes of the law.
This was my advice, warmly seconded by Walter, and when fairly set
before him, also appearing best to his brother.
It was agreed we should all three go down to New Orleans, place
ourselves in communication with a respectable solicitor, and obtain the
assistance of the law, in the accomplishment of our purpose.
At the close of our deliberations a surprise awaited us. Outside we
heard the hoof-stroke of a horse. On looking through the window, we
saw a man dismounting by the gate of the inclosure, and fastening his
bridle to the post. As he faced toward the house, we recognized the
piratical ruffian whose punishment we had been planning.