Chapter VII

The next afternoon I sat working at my sails, when a boat with three negroes in it, pushed off from the shore, and approached the schooner. The man at the helm had a large basket, covered with black, before him, and the usually white aprons of the negroes were black. This indicated a death, and I was very anxious to know which of yesterday's company had so quickly had their joy turned to mourning; in the meanwhile the boat arrived, and the chief negro came on board.

"Master dead!" he said, in his broken Spanish. "Don Toribios dead! last night! Here a letter and presents for Senor captain and Senor helmsman."

With these words he handed the captain four bundles of Havana cigars, as many baskets of fruit, and two great pastries, besides four jars of sweet-meats. This giving of presents is customary in Cuba in case of any death, and I also received the due proportion of gifts. The negro was dismissed with a present in money.

When the captain, after dinner, had taken his siesta, he made known to the crew the death of Don Toribios, and ordered preparations to be made for paying the last honors to his deceased friend. A hundred bottles of wine, torches, crape, and whatever else is necessary upon such occasions, were put into the long-boat, into which the captain entered, with ten sailors, six musicians, and myself. We found horses and mules waiting for us on the shore, and we soon reached the house of death, before which a great many tar barrels were burning, and in the centre stood a bier, upon which the coffin was placed. A number of mourners, among whom were twelve or fifteen ladies, now greeted us. We returned their salutations and entered the brilliantly lighted saloon, hung with black, where sat the mother and daughter of the dead man, dressed in the deepest mourning. We expressed our sympathy for them; refreshments were handed round, and all were provided with torches. The procession was then arranged. Our sailors carried the coffin; the musicians commenced a mournful march; the priest, with the choristers, led the way and the others followed in pairs; the captain conducted the mother, and I the daughter. Our sailors sent up some rockets, and at this signal the schooner fired minute guns for a half hour. After the conclusion of the solemnity, we went to the funeral supper, and the guests indulged in all kinds of gayety.

Midnight had past, when we broke up; towards two o'clock we got on board the schooner and retired to rest. The next morning I returned to my sails, but thought incessantly of my plan for escape, and how it could be most prudently carried into execution, for the danger of such an attempt was immense. I believed that I could possess myself of one of the boats, but where could I find a companion to be depended upon? Yet such a one was absolutely necessary. I could never row alone for five or six leagues, which was the shortest distance that would place me out of reach of the pirates. Whether I should confide in the steward, I could not exactly decide. Imagine my astonishment when the honest fellow came to me while the captain was taking his afternoon's nap in the cabin, and began gently to whisper in my ear.

"My friend, we must fly. In a few days there will be horrible work on board here; a new conspiracy has been formed against the captain, and his death is inevitable. We must seize the first opportunity to get away. I know these waters well, for I was born upon the Cuban coast. You know that quantities of fishing boats come every evening to exchange their fish for brandy, and their owners often remain all night on board, while their boats are floating by the side of the vessel. My plan is to get into one of these about midnight, and trust ourselves to the wind and the current, until the next morning, when we can find our way to Havana."

"Well, my honest friend," I replied, "I agree with you entirely; in this way we cannot fail to succeed. We will, therefore, hold ourselves in readiness any day, and God will not forsake us in our hour of need."

Thus we separated.

When the captain awoke he complained of violent pain in his limbs, and I saw clearly that a fever had attacked him. With his consent, I opened a vein and took from him thirteen ounces of blood. His bed was placed on the forward deck, and an awning spread above it, for the cabin was too close and hot. I left him for the night and prescribed almond milk and orange flower water.