Chapter IX: Cuba Fishermen (1)

“El Pescador de Puerto Escondido,
Pesca mas que Peseado,
Quando la Luna redonda Reflexado en la mar profunda.
Pero cuidado,
El pobre sera el nino perdido Si esta por Anglisman cogido.
Ay de mi”.

It was now five in the afternoon, and the breeze continued to fall, and the sea to go down, until sunset, by which time we had I run the corvette hull down, and the schooner nearly out of sight. Right ahead of us rose the high land of Cuba, to the westward of Cape Maize, clear and well-defined against the northern sky; and as we neither hauled our wind to weather the east end of the island, nor edged away for St Jago, it was evident, beyond all doubt, that we were running right in for some one of the piratical haunts on the Cuba coast.

The crew now set to work, and removed the remains of their late messmate, and the two wounded men, from where they lay upon the ballast in the Run, to their own berth forward in the bow of the little vessel; they then replaced the planks which they had started, and arranged the dead body of the mate along the cabin floor, close to where I lay, faint and bleeding, and more heavily bruised than I had at first thought.

The captain was still at the helm; he had never spoken a word either to me or any of the crew, since he had taken the trifling liberty of shooting me through the neck, and no thanks to him that the wound was not mortal; but he now resumed his American accent, and began to drawl out the necessary orders for repairing damages.

When I went on deck shortly afterwards, I was surprised beyond measure to perceive the injury the little vessel had sustained, and the uncommon speed, handiness, and skill, with which it had been repaired. However lazily the command might appear to have been given, the execution of it was quick as lightning. The crew, now reduced to ten working hands, had, with an almost miraculous promptitude, knotted and spliced the rigging, mended and shifted sails, fished the sprung and wounded spars, and plugged and nailed lead over the shot-holes, and all within half an hour.

I don’t like Americans; I never did, and never shall like them; I have seldom met with an American gentleman, in the large and complete sense of the terms. I have no wish to eat with them, drink with them, deal with, or consort with them in any way; but let me tell the whole truth, nor fight with them, were it not for the laurels to be acquired, by overcoming an enemy so brave, determined, and alert, and every way so worthy of one’s steel, as they have always proved. One used to fight with a Frenchman, as a matter of course, and for the fun of the thing as it were, never dreaming of the possibility of Johnny Crapeau beating us, where there was any thing approaching to an equality of force; but, say as much as we please about larger ships and more men, and a variety of excuses which proud John Bull, with some truth very often I will admit, has pertinaciously thrust forward to palliate his losses during the short war, a regard for truth and fair dealing, which I hope are no scarce qualities amongst British seamen, compels me to admit, that although I would of course peril my life and credit more readily with an English crew, yet I believe a feather would turn the scale between the two countries, so far as courage and seamanship goes; and let it not be forgotten, although we have now regained our superiority in this respect, yet, in gunnery and smallarm practice, we were as thoroughly weathered on by the Americans during the war, as we overtopped them in the bulldog courage with which our boarders handled those genuine English weapons, the cutlass and the pike.

After the captain had given his orders, and seen the men fairly at work, he came down to the cabin, still ghastly and pale, but with none of that ferocity stamped on his grim features, from the outpouring of which I had suffered so severely. He never once looked my way, no more than if I had been a bundle of old junk; but folding his hands on his knee, he sat down on a small locker, against which the feet of the dead mate rested, and gazed earnestly on his face, which was immediately under the open skylight, through which, by this time, the clear cold rays of the moon streamed full on it, the short twilight having already fled, chained as it is in these climates to the chariot wheels of the burning sun. My eye naturally followed his, but I speedily withdrew it. I had often bent over comrades who had been killed by gunshot wounds, and always remarked, what is well-known, that the features wore a benign expression, bland and gentle, and contented as the face of a sleeping infant, while their limbs were composed decently, often gracefully, like one resting after great fatigue, as if nature, like an affectionate nurse, had arranged the deathbed of her departing child with more than usual care, preparatory to his last long sleep; whereas those who had died from the thrust of a pike, or the blow of a cutlass, however mild the living expression of their countenance might have been, were always fearfully contorted both in body and face.

In the present instance, the eyes were wide open, white, prominent, and glazed like those of a dead fish; the hair, which was remarkably fine, and had been worn in long ringlets, amongst which a large gold earring glittered, the poor fellow having been a nautical dandy of the first water was drenched and clotted into heavy masses with the death-sweat, and had fallen back on the deck from his forehead, which was well formed, high, broad and massive. His nose was transparent, thin, and sharp, the tense skin on the bridge of it glancing in the silver light, as if it had been glass. His mouth was puckered on one side into angular wrinkles, like a curtain drawn up awry, while a clotted stream of black gore crept from it sluggishly down his right cheek, and coagulated in a heap on the deck. His lower jaw had fallen, and there he lay agape with his mouth full of blood.

His legs, indeed his whole body below his loins, where the fracture of the spine had taken place, rested precisely as they had been arranged after he died; but the excessive swelling and puffing out of his broad chest, contrasted shockingly with the shrinking of the body at the pit of the stomach, by which the arch of the ribs was left as well defined as if the skin had been drawn over a skeleton, and the distortion of the muscles of the cheeks and throat evinced the fearful strength of the convulsions which had preceded his dissolution. It was evident, indeed, that throughout his whole person above the waist, the nervous system had been utterly shattered; the arms, especially, appeared to have been awfully distorted, for when crossed on his breast, they had to be forcibly fastened down at the wrists by a band of spun-yam to the buttons of his jacket. His right hand was shut, with the exception of the forefinger, which was extended, pointing upwards; but the whole arm, from the shoulder down, had the horrible appearance of struggling to get free from the cord which confined it.

Obed, by the time I had noticed all this, had knelt beside the shoulder of the corpse, and I could see by the moonlight that flickered across his face as the vessel rolled in the declining breeze, that he had pushed off his eye the uncouth spyglass which he had fastened over it during the chase, so that it now stood out from the middle of his forehead like a stunted horn; but, in truth, “it was not exalted,” for he appeared crushed down to the very earth by the sadness of the scene before him, and I noticed the frequent sparkle of a heavy tear as it fell from his iron visage on the face of the dead man. At length he untied the string that fastened the eyeglass round his head, and taking a coarse towel from a locker, he spunged poor Paul’s face and neck with rum, and then fastened up his lower jaw with the lanyard. Having performed this melancholy office, the poor fellow’s feelings could no longer be restrained by my presence.

“God help me, I have not now one friend in the wide world. When I had neither home, nor food, nor clothing, he sheltered me, and fed me, and clothed me, when a single word would have gained him five hundred dollars, and run me up to the fore yardarm in a wreath of white smoke; but he was true as steel; and oh that he was now doing for me what I have done for him! who would have moaned over me,--me, who am now without wife or child, and have disgraced all my kin! alack-a-day, alack-a-day!”--And he sobbed and wept aloud, as if his very heart would have burst in twain.--“But I will soon follow you, Paul; I have had my warning already; I know it, and I believe it.” At this instant the dead hand of the mate burst the ligature that kept it down across his body, and slowly rose up and remained in a beckoning attitude. I was seized with a cold shivering from head to foot, and would have shrieked aloud, had it not been for very shame, but Obed was unmoved.--“I know it, Paul. I know it. I am ready, and I shall not be long behind you.”

He fastened the arm down once more, and having called a couple of hands to assist him, they lashed up the remains of their shipmate in his hammock, with a piece of iron ballast at his feet, and then, without more ado, handed the body up through the skylight; and I heard the heavy splash as they cast it into the sea. When this was done, the captain returned to the cabin, bringing a light with him, filled and drank off a glass of strong grog. Yet he did not even now deign to notice me, which was by no means soothing; and I found that, since he wouldn’t speak, I must, at all hazards.

“I say, Obed, do you ever read your Bible?” He looked steadily at me with his lacklustre eyes. “Because, if you do, you may perhaps have fallen in with some such passages as the following:--Behold I am in your hand; but know ye for certain, that if ye put me to death, ye shall surely bring innocent blood upon yourselves.”

“It is true, Mr Cringle, I feel the truth of it here,” and he laid his large bony hand on his heart. “Yet I do not ask you to forgive me; I don’t expect that you can or will; but unless the devil gets possession of me again--which, so sure as ever there was a demoniac in this world, he had this afternoon when you so tempted me--I hope soon to place you in safety, either in a friendly port, or on board of a British vessel; and then what becomes of me is of little consequence, now since the only living soul who cared a dollar for me is at rest amongst the coral branches at the bottom of the deep green sea.”

“Why, man,” rejoined I, “leave off this stuff; something has turned your brain, surely; people must die in their beds, you now, if they be not shot, or put out of the way somehow or other; and as for my small affair, why I forgive you, man--from my heart I forgive you; were it only for the oddity of your scantling, mental and corporeal, I would do so; and you see I am not much hurting--so lend me a hand, like a good fellow, to wash the wound with a little spirits--it will stop the bleeding, and the stiffness will soon go off.”

“Lieutenant Cringle, I need not tell what I know you have found out, that I am not the vulgar Yankee smuggler, fit only to be made a butt of by you and your friends, that you no doubt at first took me for; but who or what I am, or what I may have been, you shall never know--but I will tell you this much....”

“Devil confound the fellow!--why this is too much upon the brogue, Obed. Will you help me to dress my wound, man, and leave off your cursed sentimental speeches, which you must have gleaned from some old novel or another? I’ll hear it all by and by.”

At this period I was a reckless young chap, with strong nerves, and my own share of that animal courage, which generally oozes out at one’s finger ends when one gets married and turned of thirty; nevertheless I did watch with some anxiety the effect which my unceremonious interruption was to have upon him. I was agreeably surprised to find that he took it all in good part, and set himself, with great alacrity and kindness even, to put me to rights, and so successfully, that when I was washed and cleansed, and fairly coopered up, I found myself quite able to take my place at the table; and having no fear of the College of Surgeons before my eyes, I helped myself to a little of the needful, and in the plenitude of my heart, I asked Obed’s pardon for my ill-bred interruption.

“It was not quite the thing to cut you short in the middle of your Newgate Calendar, Obed--beg pardon, your story I mean; no offence now, none in the world--eh? But where the deuce, man, got you this fine linen of Egypt?” looking at the sleeves of the shirt Obed had obliged me with, as I sat without my coat. “I had not dreamt you had any thing so luxurious in your kit.”

I saw his brow begin to lower again, so the devil prompted me to advert, by way of changing the subject, to a file of newspapers, which, as it turned out, might have proved to be by far the most dangerous topic I could have hit upon. He had laid them aside, having taken them out of the locker when he was rummaging for the linen. “What have we here? Kingston Chronicle, Montego Bay Gazette, Falmouth Advertiser. A great newsmonger you must be. What arrivals?--let me see;--you know I am a week from headquarters. Let me see.”

At first he made a motion as if he would have snatched them out of my hands, but speedily appeared to give up the idea, merely murmuring “What can it signify now?”

I continued to read--“Chanticleer from a cruise--Tonnant from Barbadoes Pique from Port-au-Prince. Oh, the next interests me the Firebrand is daily expected from Havanna; she is to come through the gulf, round Cape Antonio, and beat up the haunts of the pirates all along the Cuba shore.” I was certain now that at the mention of this corvette mine host winced in earnest. This made me anxious to probe him farther. “Why, what means this pencil mark--‘Firebrand’s number off the Chesapeake was 1022?’ How the deuce, my fine fellow, do you know that?”

He shook his head, but said nothing, and I went on reading the pencil memoranda--“But this is most probably changed; she now carries a red cross in the head of her foresail, and has very short lower masts like the Hornet.” Still he made me no answer. I proceeded--“Stop, let me see what merchant ships are about sailing. Loading for Liverpool, the John Gladstone, Peter Ponderous master;” and after it, again in pencil “Only sugar: goes through the gulf.--Only sugar,” said I, still fishing; “too bulky, I suppose.--Ariel, Jenkins Whitehaven;” remark--“sugar, coffee, and logwood. Nuestra Senora de los Dolores, to sail for Chagres on 7th proximo;” remark--“rich cargo of bale goods, but no chance of overtaking her.” “El Rayo to sail for St Jago de Cuba on the 10th proximo;” remark--“sails fast; armed with a long gun and musketry; thirty hands; about ten Spanish passengers; valuable cargo of dry goods; mainmast rakes well aft; new cloth in the foresail about half-way up; will be off the Moro about the 13th.--And what is this written in ink under the above?--The San Pedro from Chagres, and Marianita from Santa Martha, although rich, have both got convoy.--Ah, too strong for your friends, Obed--I see, I see.--Francis Baring, Loan French, master--an odd name, rather, for a skipper;” remark--“forty seroons of cochineal and some specie; is to sail from Morant Bay on 5th proximo, to go through the windward passage; may be expected off Cape St Nicolas on the 12th, or thereby.” I laid down the paper and looked him full in the face. “Nicolas is an ominous name. I fear the good ship Francis Baring will find it so. Some of the worthy saint’s clerks to be fallen in with off the Mole, eh? Don’t you think as I do, Obed?” Still silent. “Why you seem to take great delight in noting the intended departures and expected arrivals, my friend--merely to satisfy your curiosity, of course; but, to come to close quarters with you, captain, I now know pretty well the object of your visiting Jamaica now and then you are indeed no vulgar smuggler.”

“It is well for you and good for myself, Mr Cringle, that something weighs heavy at my heart at this moment, and that there is that about you which, notwithstanding your ill-timed jesting, commands my respect, and engages my goodwill--had it not been so, you would have been alongside of poor Paul at this moment.” He leant his arms upon the table, and gazed intensely on my face as he continued in a solemn tremulous tone--“Do you believe in auguries, Mr Cringle? Do you believe that coming events cast their shadows before?’”--oh, that little Wiggy Campbell had been beside me to have seen the figure and face of the man who now quoted him!

“Yes, I do, it is part of the creed of every sailor to do so; I do believe that people have had forewarnings of peril to themselves or their friends.”

“Then what do you think of the mate beckoning me with his dead hand to follow him?”

“Why, you are raving, Obed; you saw that he had been much convulsed, and that the limb, from the contraction of the sinews, was forcibly kept down in the position it broke loose from--the spunyarn gave way, and of course it started up--nothing wonderful in all this although it did at the time somewhat startle me, I confess.”

“It may be so, it may be so. I don’t know,” rejoined he, “but taken along with what I saw before”--Here his voice sank into so hollow and sepulchral a tone as to be almost unintelligible. “But there is no use in arguing on the subject. Answer me this, Lieutenant Cringle, and truly, so help you God at your utmost need, did the mate leave the cabin at any moment after I was wounded by the splinter?” And he seized one of my hands convulsively with his iron paw, while he pointed up through the open scuttle towards heaven with the other, which trembled like a reed. The moon shone strong on the upper part of his countenance, while the yellow smoky glare of the candle over which he bent, blending harshly and inharmoniously with the pale silver light, fell full on his uncouth figure, and on his long scraggy bare neck and chin and cheeks, giving altogether a most unearthly expression to his savage features, from the conflicting tints and changing shadows cast by the flickering moonbeams streaming fitfully through the skylight, as the vessel rolled to and fro, and by the large torchlike candle as it wavered in the night wind. The Prince of the Powers of the Air might have sat for his picture by proxy. It was just such a face as one has dreamed of after a hot supper and cold ale, when the whisky had been forgotten--horrible, changing, vague, glimmering, and undefined; and as if something was still wanting to complete the utter frightfulness of his aspect, the splinter wound in his head burst out afresh from his violent agitation, and streamed down in heavy drops from his forehead, falling warm on my hand. I was much shaken at being adjured in this tremendous way, with the hot blood gluing our hands together, but I returned his grasp as steadily as I could, while I replied, with all the composure he had left me, and that would not have quite filled a Winchester bushel.

“He never left my side from the time he offered to take your place after you had been wounded.”

He fell back against the locker as if he had been shot through the heart. His grasp relaxed, he drew his breath very hard, and I thought he had fainted.

“Then it was not him that stood by me; I thought it might have been him, but I was a fool, it was impossible.”

He made a desperate effort to recover his composure, and succeeded.

“And, pray, Master Obediah,” quoth I, “what did you see?”

He answered me sharply--“Never mind, never mind--here, Potomac, lend us a hand to sling a cot for this gentleman; there now, see the lanyard is sound, and the lacing all tight and snug--now put that mattrass into it, and there is linen in the chest.”

In a trice my couch was rigged, all comfortable, snow-white linen, nice pillow, soft mattrass, &c. and Obed, filling me another tumbler, helped himself also; he then drank to my health, wished me a sound sleep, promised to call me at daylight, and as he left the cabin he said, “Mr Cringle, had it been my object to have injured you, I would not have waited until now. You are quite safe so far as depends on me, so take your rest--good night, once more.”

I tumbled into bed, and never once opened my eyes until Obed called me at daylight, that is, at five in the morning, according to his promise.

By this time we were well in with the Cuba shore; the land might be two miles from us, as we could see the white surf. Out at sea, although all around was clear as crystal, there was nothing to be seen of the Gleam or Firebrand, but there were ten or twelve fishing canoes, each manned with from four to six hands, close aboard of us;--we seemed to have got becalmed in the middle of a small fleet of them. The nearest to us hailed in Spanish, in a very friendly way.

“Como estamos Capitan, que hay de nuevo; hay algo de bueno, para los pobres Pescadores?” and the fellow who had spoken laughed loudly.

The Captain desired him to come on board, and then drew him aside, conversing earnestly with him. The Spanish fisherman was a very powerful man; he was equipped in a blue cotton shirt, Osnaburg trowsers, sandals of untanned bullock’s hide, a straw hat, and wore the eternal greasy red sash and long knife. He was a bold, daring looking fellow, and frequently looked frowningly on me, and shook his head impatiently, while the Captain, as it seemed, was explaining to him who I was. Just in this nick of time my friend Potomac handed up my uniform coat, (I had previously been performing my ablutions on deck in my shirt and trowsers,) which I put on, swab and all, thinking no harm. But there must have been mighty great offence nevertheless, for the fisherman, in a twinkling, casting a fierce look at me, jumped overboard like a feather, clearing the rail like a flying fish, and swam to his canoe that had shoved off a few paces.

When he got on board he stood up and shook his clenched fist at Obed, shouting, “Picaro, traidor, Ingleses hay abordo, quieres enganarnos!” He then held up the blade of his paddle, a signal which all the canoes answered in a moment in the same manner, and then pulled towards the land, from whence a felucca, invisible until that moment, now swept out, as if she had floated up to the surface by magic, for I could see neither creek nor indentation on the shore, nor the smallest symptom of any entrance to a port or cove. For a few minutes the canoes clustered round this necromantic craft, and I could notice that two or three hands from each of them jumped on board; they then paddled off in a string, and vanished one by one amongst the mangrove bushes as suddenly as the felucca had appeared. All this puzzled me exceedingly I looked at Obed he was evidently sorely perplexed.

“I had thought to have put you on board a British vessel before this, or failing that, to have run down, and landed you at St Jago, Mr Cringle, as I promised; but you see I am prevented by these honest men there. Get below, and as you value your life, and, I may say, mine, keep your temper, and be civil.”

I did as he suggested but peeped out of the cabin skylight to see what was going on, notwithstanding. The felucca was armed with a heavy carronade on a pivot, and as full of men as she could hold, fierce, half naked, savage looking fellows,--she swept rapidly up to us, and closing on our larboard quarter, threw about five-and-twenty of her genteel young people on board, who immediately secured the crew, and seized Obed. However, they, that is, the common sailors, seemed to have no great stomach for the job, and had it not been for the fellow I had frightened overboard, I don’t think one of them would have touched him. Obed bore all this with great equanimity.

“Why, Francisco,” he said, to this personage, in good Spanish, “why, what madness is this? your suspicions are groundless; it is as I tell you, he is my prisoner, and whatever he may have been to me, he can be no spy on you.”

“Cuchillo entonces,” was the savage reply.

“No, no,” persisted Obediah, “get cool, man, get cool; I am pledged that no harm shall come to him; and farther I have promised to put him ashore at St Jago, and I will be as good as my word.”

“You can’t if you would,” rejoined Francisco; “the Snake is at anchor under the Moro.”

“Then he must go with us.”

“We shall see as to that,” said the other; then raising his voice he shouted to his ragamuffins, “Comrades, we are betrayed; there is an English officer on board, who can be nothing but a spy; follow me!”

And he dashed down the companion ladder, knife in hand, while I sprung through the small scuttle, like a rat out of one hole when a ferret is put in at the other, and crept as close to Obed as I could; Francisco when he missed me, came on deck again. The Captain had now seized a cutlass in one hand, and held a cocked pistol in the other. It appeared he had greater control, the nature of which I now began to comprehend, over the felucca’s people, than Francisco bargained for, as the moment the latter went below, they released him, and went forward in a body. My persecutor again advanced close up to me, seized me by the collar with one hand, and tried to drag me forward, brandishing his naked knife aloft in the other.

Obed promptly caught his sword-arm--“Francisco,” he exclaimed, still in Spanish, “fool, madman, let go your hold! let go, or by the Heaven above us, and the hell we are both hastening to, I will strike you dead!”

The man paused, and looked round to his own people, and seeing one or two encouraging glances and gestures amongst them, he again attempted to drag me away from my hold on the tafferel. Something flashed in the sun, and the man fell! his left arm, the hand of which still clutched my throat, while mine grasped its wrist, had been shred from his body by Obed’s cutlass, like a twig; and, oh God, my blood curdles to my heart even now when I think of it! the dead fingers kept the grasp sufficiently long to allow the arm to fall heavily against my side, where it hung for some seconds, until the muscles relaxed and it dropped on the deck. The instant that Obed struck the blow, he caught hold of my hand, threw away his cutlass, and advanced towards the group of the felucca’s men, pistol in hand.

“Am I not your captain, ye cowards--have I ever deceived you yet--have I ever flinched from heading you where the danger was greatest--have you not all that I am worth in your hands, and will you murder me now?”

“Viva, el noble capitan, viva!”

And the tide turned as rapidly in our favour as it had lately ebbed against us.

“As for that scoundrel, he has got no more than he deserves,” said he, turning to where Francisco lay, bleeding like a carcass in the shambles; “but tie up his arm some of ye, I would be sorry he bled to death.”

It was unavailing, the large arteries had emptied his whole lifeblood he had already gone to his account.

This most miserable transaction, with all its concomitant horrors, to my astonishment, did not seem to make much impression on Obed, who now, turning to me, said, with perfect composure,--“You have there another melancholy voucher for my sincerity,” pointing to the body; “but time presses, and you must now submit to be blindfolded, and that without further explanation at present.”

I did so with the best grace I could, and was led below, where two beauties, with loaded pistols, and a drawn knife each, obliged me with their society, one seated on each side of me on the small locker, like two deputy butchers ready to operate on an unfortunate veal. It had now fallen dead calm, and, from what I heard, I conjectured that the felucca was sweeping in towards the land with us in tow, for the sound of the surf grew louder and louder. By and by we seemed to slide beyond the long smooth swell into broken water, for the little vessel pitched sharp and suddenly, and again all was still, and we seemed to have sailed into some landlocked cove. From the loud echo of the voices on deck, I judged that we were in a narrow canal, the banks of which were reflecting the sound; presently this ceased, and although we skimmed along as motionless as before, I no longer heard the splash of the felucca’s sweeps; the roar of the sea gradually died away, until it sounded like distant thunder, and I thought we touched the ground now and then, although slightly. All at once the Spanish part of the crew, for we still had a number of the felucca’s people with us, sang out “Palanca,” and we began to pole along a narrow marshy lagoon, coming so near the shore occasionally, that our sides were brushed by the branches of the mangrove bushes. Again the channel seemed to widen, and I could hear the felucca once more ply her sweeps. In about ten minutes after this the anchor was let go, and for a quarter of an hour, nothing was heard on deck but the bustle of the people furling sails, coiling down the ropes, and getting every thing in order, as is usual in coming into port. It was evident that several boats had boarded us soon after we anchored, as I could make out part of the greetings between the strangers and Obed, in which my own name recurred more than once. In a little while all was still again, and Obed called down the companion to my guards, that I might come on deck,--a boon I was not long in availing myself of.

We were anchored nearly in the centre of a shallow swampy lagoon, about a mile across, as near as I could judge; two very large schooners, heavily armed, were moored ahead of us, one on each bow, and another rather smaller lay close under our stern; they all had sails bent, and every thing apparently in high order, and were full of men. The shore, to the distance of a bow-shot from the water all around us, was low, marshy, and covered with an impervious jungle of thick strong reeds and wild canes, with here and there a thicket of mangroves; a little farther off, the land swelled into lofty hills, covered to the very summit with heavy timber, but every thing had a moist, green, steamy appearance, as if it had been the region of perpetual rain. “Lots of yellow fever here,” thought I, as the heavy rank smell of decayed vegetable matter came off on the faint sickly breeze, and the sluggish fog banks crept along the dull clay-coloured motionless surface of the tepid water. The sea view was quite shut out--I looked all round and could discern no vestige of the entrance. Right ahead there was about a furlong of land cleared at the only spot which one could call a beach,--that is, a hard shore of sand and pebbles. Had you tried to get ashore at any other point, your fate would have been that of the Master of Ravenswood; as fatal, that is, without the gentility; for you would have been suffocated in black mud, in place of clean sea-sand. There was a long shed in the centre of this cleared spot, covered in with boards, and thatched with palm leaves; it was open below, a sort of capstan-house, where a vast quantity of sails, anchors, cordage, and most kinds of sea stores were stowed, carefully covered over with tarpawling. Overhead there was a flooring laid along the couples of the roof, the whole length of the shed, forming a loft of nearly sixty feet long, divided by bulkheads into a variety of apartments, lit by small rude windows in the thatch, where the crews of the vessels, I concluded, were occasionally lodged during the time they might be under repair. The boat was manned, and Obed took me ashore with him.

We landed near the shed I have described, beneath which we encountered about forty of the most uncouth and ferocious-looking rascals that my eyes had ever been blessed withal; they were of every shade, from the woolly Negro and long-haired Indian, to the sallow American and fair Biscayan; and as they intermitted their various occupations of mending sails, fitting and stretching rigging, splicing ropes, making spun-yam, coopering gun carriages, grinding pikes and cutlasses, and filling cartridges, to look at me, they grinned and nodded to each other, and made sundry signs and gestures which made me regret many a past peccadillo that in more prosperous times I little thought on or repented of, and I internally prayed that I might be prepared to die as became a man, for my fate appeared to be sealed. The only ray of hope that shot into my mind, through all this gloom, came from the respect the thieves, one and all, paid the Captain; and, as I had reaped the benefit of assuming an outward recklessness and daring, which I really did not at heart possess, I screwed myself up to maintain the same port still, and swaggered along, jabbering in my broken Spanish, right and left, and jesting even with the most infamous-looking scoundrels of the whole lot, while, God he knows, my heart was palpitating like a girl’s when she is asked to be married. Obed led the way up a ladder into the loft, where we found several messes at dinner; and passing through various rooms, in which a number of hammocks were slung, we at length arrived at the eastern end, which was boarded off into an apartment eighteen or twenty feet square, lighted by a small port-hole in the end, about ten feet from the ground. I could see several huts from this window, built just on the edge of the high wood, where some of the country people seemed to be moving about, and round which a large flock of pigs and from twenty to thirty bullocks were grazing. All beyond, as far as the eye could reach, was one continuous forest, without any vestige of a living thing; not even a thin wreath of blue smoke evinced the presence of a fellow-creature; I seemed to be hopelessly cut off from all succour, and my heart again died within me.

“I am sorry to say you must consider yourself a prisoner here for a few days,” said Obed.

I could only groan.

“But the moment the coast is clear, I will be as good as my word, and land you at St Jago.”

I groaned again. The man was moved.

“I would I could do so sooner,” he continued; “but you see by how precarious a tenure I hold my control over these people; therefore I must be cautious, for your sake as well as my own, or they would make little of murdering both of us, especially as the fellow who would have cut your throat this morning has many friends amongst them; above all, I dare not leave them for any purpose for some days. I must recover my seat, in which, by the necessary severity you witnessed, I have been somewhat shaken. So goodbye; there is cold meat in that locker, and some claret to wash it down with. Don’t, I again warn you, venture out during the afternoon or night. I will be with you betimes in the morning. So goodbye so long. Your cot, you see, is ready slung.”

He turned to depart, when, as if recollecting himself, he stooped down, and taking hold of a ring, he lifted up a trap door, from which there was a ladder leading down to the capstan-house. “I had forgotten this entrance; it will be more convenient for me in my visits.”

In my heart I believe he intended this as a hint that I should escape through the hole at some quiet opportunity; and he was descending the ladder, when he stopped and looked round, greatly mortified, as it struck me.

“I forgot to mention that a sentry has been placed, I don’t know by whose orders, at the foot of the ladder, to whom I must give orders to fire at you, if you venture to descend. You see how the land lies; I can’t help it.”

This was spoken in a low tone, then aloud--“There are books on that shelf behind the canvass screen; if you can settle to them, they may amuse you.”

He left me, and I sat down disconsolate enough. I found some Spanish books, and a volume of Lord Byron’s poetry, containing the first canto of Childe Harold, two numbers of Blackwood, with several other English books and magazines, the names of the owners on all of them being carefully erased.

But there was nothing else that indicated the marauding life of friend Obediah, whose apartment I conjectured was now my prison, if I except a pretty extensive assortment of arms, pistols, and cutlasses, and a range of massive cases, with iron clamps, which were ranged along one side of the room. I paid my respects to the provender and claret; the hashed chicken was particularly good; bones rather large or so, but flesh white and delicate. Had I known that I was dining upon a guana, or large wood lizard, I scarcely think I would have made so hearty a meal. Long cork, No. 2, followed ditto, No. 1; and as the shades of evening, as poets say, began to fall by the time I had finished it, I toppled quietly into my cot, said my prayers such as they were, and fell asleep.

It must have been towards morning, from the damp freshness of the air that came through the open window, when I was roused by the howling of a dog, a sound which always moves me. I shook myself; but before I was thoroughly awake, it ceased; it appeared to have been close under my window.

I was turning to go to sleep again, when a female, in a small suppressed voice, sung the following snatch of a vulgar Port Royal ditty, which I scarcely forgive myself for introducing here to polite society.

“Young hofficer come home at night,
Him give me ring and kisses;
Nine months, one picaniny white,
Him white almost like missis.
But missis fum my back wid switch,
Him say de shild for massa;
But massa say him”

The singer broke off suddenly, as if disturbed by the approach of some one.

“Hush, hush, you old foolish--” said a man’s voice, in the same low whispering tone; “you will waken de dronken sentry dere, when we shall all be put in iron. Hush, he will know my voice more better.”

It was now clear that some one wished to attract my attention; besides, I had a dreamy recollection of having heard both the male and female voices before. I listened, therefore, all alive. The man began to sing in the same low tone.

“Newfoundland dog love him master de morest Of all de dog ever I see; Let him starve him, and kick him, and cuff him de sorest, Difference none never makee to he.”

There was a pause for a minute or two.

“It no use,” the same voice continued; “him either no dere, or he won’t hear us.”

“Stop,” said the female, “stop; woman head good for someting. I know who he shall hear.--Here, good dog, sing psalm; good dog, sing psalm,’ and thereupon a long loud melancholy howl rose wailing through the night air.

“If that be not my dear old dog Sneezer, it is a deuced good imitation of him,” thought I.

The woman again spoke--“Yowl leetle piece more, good dog,” and the howl was repeated.

I was now certain. By this time I had risen, and stood at the open window; but it was too dark to see any thing distinctly below. I could barely distinguish two dark figures, and what I concluded was the dog sitting on end between them.

“Who are you?” “What do you want with me?”

“Speak softly, massa, speak softly, or the sentry may hear us, for all de rum I give him.”

Here the dog recognised me, and nearly spoiled sport altogether; indeed it might have cost us our lives, for he began to bark and frisk about, and to leap violently against the end of the capstan-house, in vain endeavours to reach the window.. “Down, Sneezer, down, sir; you used to be a dog of some sense; down.”

But Sneezer’s joy had capsized his discretion, and the sound of my voice pronouncing his name drove him mad altogether, and he bounded against the end of the shed, like a battering-ram.

“Stop, man, stop,” and I held down the bight of my neckcloth, with an end in each hand. He retired, took a noble run, and in a trice hooked his forepaws in the handkerchief, and I hauled him in at the window. “Now, Sneezer, down with you, sir, down with you, or your rampaging will get all our throats cut.” He cowered at my feet, and was still as a lamb from that moment. I stepped to the window. “Now, who are you, and what do you want?” said I.

“Ah, massa, you no know me?”

“How the devil should I? Don’t you see it is as dark as pitch?”

“Well, massa, I will tell you; it is me, massa.”

“I make no great doubt of that; but who may you be?”

“Lord, you are de foolis person now; make me talk to him,” said the female. “Massa, never mind he, dat stupid fellow is my husband, and surely massa know me?”

“Now, my very worthy friends, I think you want to make yourselves known to me; and if so, pray have the goodness to tell me your names, that is, if I can in any way serve you.”

“To be sure you can, massa; for dat purpose I come here.”

The woman hooked the word out of his mouth. “Yes, massa, you must know me is Nancy, and dat old stupid is my husband Peter Mangrove, him who” here Peter chimed in--“Yes, massa, Peter Mangrove is de person you have de honour to address, and”--here he lowered his voice still more, although the whole dialogue from the commencement had been conducted in no higher tone than a loud whisper--“we have secured one big large canoe, near de mout of dis dam hole, which, wid your help, I tink we shall be able to launch troo de surf; and once in smoot water, den no fear but we shall run down de coast safely before de wind till we reach. St Jago.”

My heart jumped against my ribs. Here’s an unexpected chance, thought I. “But, Peter, how in the name of mumbo jumbo, came you here?”

“Why, massa, you do forget a leetle, dat I am a Creole negro, and not a naked tatooed African, whose exploits, dat is de wonderful ting him never do in him’s own country, him get embroidered and pinked in gunpowder on him breach; beside, I am a Christian gentleman like youshef; so d----n mumbo jumbo, Massa Cringle.”

I saw where I had erred. “So say I, Peter, d----n mumbo jumbo particularly; but how came you here, man? tell me that.”

“Why, massa, I was out in de pilot boat schooner, wid my wife here, and five more hands, waiting for de outward bound, finking no harm, when dem piratical rascal catch we, and carry us off. Yankee privateer bad enough; but who ever hear of pilot being carry off? blasphemy dat--carry off pilot! Who ever dream of such a ting? every shivilized peoples respect pilot--carry off pilot!--oh Lord” and he groaned in spirit for several seconds.

“And the dog?” enquired I.

“Oh, massa, I could not leave him at home; and since you was good enough to board him wid us, he has messed wid us, ay and slept wid us; and when we started last, although he showed some dislike at going on board, I had only to say, Sneezer, we go look for you master and he make such a bound, dat he capsize my old woman dere, heel, over head; oh dear, what display, Nancy, you was exhibit!”

“Hold your tongue, Peter; you hab no decency, you old willain.”

“Well, but, Peter, speak out; when are we to make the attempt? where are the rest of your crew?”

“Oh dear! oh dear! dat is de worstest; oh dear!” and he began to cry and sob like the veriest child. “Oh, massa,”--after he had somewhat recovered himself;--“Oh, massa, dese people debits. Why, de make all de oder on board walk de plank, wid two ten pound shot, one at each foot. Oh, if you had seen de clear shining blue skin, as de became leetle and leetle, and more leetler, down far in de clear green sea! Oh dear! oh dear! Only to tink dat each wavering black spot was fellow-creature like one-shef, wid de heart’s blood warm in his bosom at de very instant of time we lost sight of him for ever!”

“God bless me,” said I; “and how did you escape, and the black dog, and the black--ahem--beg pardon--your wife I mean; how were you spared?”

“Ah, massa! I can’t say; but bad as de were, de seemed to have a liking for brute beasts, so dem save Sneezer, and my wife, and myshef; we were de only quadrupeds saved out of de whole crew Oh dear! Oh dear!”

“Well, well; I know enough now. I will spare you the pain of any farther recital, Peter; so tell me what I am to do.”

“Stop, massa, till I see if de sentry be still sound. I know de fellow, he was one on dem; let me see”--and I heard him through the loose flooring boards walk to the foot of the trap ladder leading up to my berth. The soliloquy that followed was very curious of its kind. The negro had excited himself by a recapitulation of the cruelties exercised on his unfortunate shipmates, and the unwarrantable caption of himself and rib, a deed that in the nautical calendar would rank in atrocity with the murder of a herald or the bearer of a flag of truce. He kept murmuring to himself, as he groped about in the dark for the sentry “Catch pilot! who ever hear of such a ting? I suppose dem would have pull down light-house, if dere had been any for pull. Where is dis sentry rascal?--him surely no sober yet?”

The sentry had fallen asleep as he leant back on the ladder, and had gradually slid down into a sitting position, with his head leaning against one of the steps, as he reclined with his back towards it, thus exposing his throat and neck to the groping paw of the black pilot.

“Ah--here him is, snoring heavy as my Nancy--well, dronk still; no fear of him overhearing we--nice position him lie in--quite convenient--could cut his troat now--slice him like a pumpkin--de debil is surely busy wid me, Peter. I find de very clasp--knife in my starboard pocket beginning to open of himshef.”

I tapped on the floor with my foot.

“Ah, tank you, Massa Tom--de debil nearly get we all in a scrape just now. However, I see him is quite sound--de sentry dat is, for de oder never sleep, you know.” He had again come under the window. “Now, Lieutenant, in two word, to-morrow night at two bells, in de middle watch, I will be here, and we shall make a start of it; will you venture, sir?”

“Will I?--to be sure I will; but why not now, Peter? why not now?”

“Ah, massa, you no smell de daylight; near daybreak already, sir. Can’t make try dis night, but to-morrow night I shall be here punctual.”

“Very well, but the dog, man? If he be found in my quarters, we shall be blown, and I scarcely think he will leave me.”

“Garamighty! true enough, massa; what is to be done? De people know de dog was catch wid me, and if he be found wid you, den de will sospect we communication togidder. What is to be done?”

I was myself not a little perplexed, when Nancy whispered, “De dog have more sense den many Christian person. Tell him he must go wid us dis one night, no tell him dis night, else him won’t; say dis one night, and dat if him don’t, we shall all be deaded; try him, massa.”

I had benefited by more extraordinary hints before now, although, well as I knew the sagacity of the poor brute, I could not venture to hope it would come up to the expectations of Mrs Mangrove. But I’ll try. “Here, Sneezer, here, my boy; you must go home with Peter tonight, or we shall all get into a deuced mess; so here, my boy, here is the bight of the handkerchief again, and through the window you must go; come, Sneezer, come.”

To my great joy and surprise, the poor dumb beast rose from where he had coiled himself at my feet, and after having actually embraced me, by putting his forepaws on my shoulders, as he stood on his hind legs, and licked my face from ear to ear, uttering a low, fondling, nuzzling sort of whine, like a nurse caressing a child, he at once leapt on the window sill, put his forepaws through the handkerchief, and was dropped to the ground again. I could immediately perceive the two dark figures of the pilot and his wife, followed by the dog, glide away as noiselessly as if they had been spirits of the night, until they were lost under the shade of the thick jungle.

I turned in, and--what will not youth and fatigue do?--I fell once more fast asleep, and never opened my eyes until Obed shook me in my cot about eight o’clock in the morning.

“Good morning, Lieutenant. I have sent up your breakfast, but you don’t seem inclined to eat it.”

“Don’t you believe it, my dear Obed. I have been sound asleep till this moment; only stop till I have slipped on my--those shoes, if you please thank you--waistcoat--that will do. Now--coffee, fish, yams, and plantains, and biscuit, white as snow, and short as--and eggs and zounds! claret to finish with?--Why, Obed, you surely don’t desire that I should enjoy all these delicacies in solitary blessedness?”

“Why, I intend to breakfast with you, if my society be not disagreeable.”