The Pirate Slaver Read online

  Upon returning to the deck the first object that caught my eyes was our gig, with the first luff and little Pierrepoint—our junior mid but one—in the stern-sheets, pulling toward the very handsome Spanish brig—already spoken of as lying at anchor a short distance inside of us—upon a visit of inspection. That the inspection to which she was subjected was pretty thorough was sufficiently attested by the fact that the gig remained alongside her a full hour, the British brig and the Dutch barque being in their turn afterwards subjected to a similarly severe examination; but, as Bates had predicted, nothing came of it, all their papers being perfectly in order, while a rigorous search failed to discover anything of an incriminating character on board either of them.

  “Of course not,” commented the master, when he learned the substance of the first luff’s report to the skipper; “of course not. Bless ye, the people that trade to this river aren’t born fools, not they! Just consider the matter for a moment. Let’s suppose, for argument’s sake, that the Spaniard yonder is a slaver. Would she ship her cargo here in the very spot that would be first visited by every man-o’-war that enters the river? Of course she wouldn’t; she’d go away up the river into one of the many creeks that branch into it on either side for the first twenty miles or so, and ship her blacks there, watching for the chance of a dark night to slip out and get well off the land before daylight. If she came in here at all, it would be to fill up her water and lay in a stock of meal upon which to feed her niggers when she’d got ’em; and you may depend on it that when a slaver comes in here upon any such errand as that, a very bright look-out is kept for cruisers, and that, upon the first sight of a suspicious-looking sail in the offing, her irons, her meal, and everything else that would incriminate her are bundled ashore and hidden away safely among the bushes, while her water would be started and pumped out of her long enough before a man-o’-war could get alongside of her. What is that Spanish brig taking in?” he continued, turning to little Pierrepoint, who, with the first lieutenant, had visited her.

  “Nothing,” answered the lad. “She only arrived yesterday; and her hold is half full of casks in which she is going to stow her palm-oil.”

  “Of course,” remarked the master sarcastically, turning to me. “What did I say to you this morning? Whenever a ship is found in an African river with a lot of casks aboard, that ship is after palm-oil—at least, so her skipper will tell ye. And that’s where they get to wind’ard of us; for unless they’ve something more incriminating—something pointing more directly to an intention to traffic in slaves—than mere casks, we daren’t touch ’em. But, you mark me, that brig’s here to take off a cargo of blacks; and unless I’m greatly mistaken she’ll have vanished when we turn up here again to-morrow.”

  It was just six bells in the afternoon watch when two boats—one containing fresh water in casks, and the other loaded to her gunwale with fresh meat—mostly goat-mutton strongly impregnated with the powerful musky odour of the animal—appeared paddling leisurely off to the Barracouta under the guidance of four powerful but phenomenally lazy Krumen, who would probably have consumed the best part of half-an-hour in the short passage from the wharf to the brig had not our impatient first luff dispatched a boat to tow them alongside. The water was pumped into the tanks, the provisions were passed up the side and stowed away below in the coolest part of the ship; and no sooner were the boats clear of the ship’s side than the boatswain’s whistle shrilled along the deck, followed by the gruff bellow of “All hands unmoor ship!” the messenger was passed, the anchor roused up to the bows, and in a few minutes the Barracouta, under her two topsails, and wafted by a light westerly zephyr, was moving slowly down the narrow channel toward the estuary of the river.

  So light was the draught of air that now impelled us, that, although every cloth was quickly spread to woo it, the ship was a full hour and a half reaching as far as Boolambemba Point, where we met the full strength of the river current; and when we bore away on our course up the river, our patience was severely taxed by the discovery that, even with studding-sails set on both sides from the royals down, we could scarcely do more than hold our own against the strong rush of the tide and current together. Slowly, however, and by imperceptible degrees, by hugging the northern shore as closely as we dared, with the lead constantly going, we managed to creep insidiously past the mangrove and densely bush-clad river bank until, just as the sun was dipping into the horizon astern in a brief but indescribably magnificent blaze of purple and scarlet and gold, we reached the place of our rendezvous with Señor Lobo. And soon afterwards we had the satisfaction of discovering that gentleman making his way toward us out of the narrow creek, his conveyance being a small native canoe about fifteen feet long, roughly hewn and hollowed out of a single log, and propelled by two natives, who apparently regarded clothes as an entirely unnecessary superfluity, for they were absolutely naked. They were fine, powerful specimens of negro manhood, however, and smart fellows withal, for they propelled their ungainly little craft along at a truly wonderful pace with scarcely any apparent effort, sheering her alongside the brig in quite respectable style without obliging us to start tack or sheet in order to pick them up, and shinning up the side with the agility of a couple of monkeys as soon as they had securely made fast the rope’s-end that was hove to them.

  Our impatience at the slow progress that we had thus far made was somewhat relieved by Lobo’s assurance that we might confidently rely upon a brisk breeze speedily springing up that would carry us to our destination as soon as was at all desirable; his opinion being that our best chance of success lay in the postponement of our attack until about two o’clock in the morning, by which time the moon would have set, and the slaver’s crew would probably be wrapped in their deepest slumber. So far as his prognostication relative to the wind was concerned, it was soon confirmed, a strong breeze from the southward springing up, under the impulsion of which, and with considerably reduced canvas, we reached our destination, so far as the brig was concerned, about five bells in the first watch.

  This spot was situated on the northern bank of the river, at a distance, up-stream, of about thirteen miles from Boolambemba Point. It was at the mouth of a creek, named Chango Creek, and in a small bay or roadstead about a mile long by perhaps half that width formed by six islands, the largest of which was nearly two miles long by half-a-mile wide, while the smallest and most easterly of all was a very diminutive affair, of perhaps not more than an acre in area, densely overgrown, like the rest of them, with thick, impenetrable bush. In the very centre of this small roadstead, to which we had been piloted by the Portuguese trader, we anchored the brig in two and a half fathoms of water; when, the canvas having been furled, and all our preparations for the attack having been fully made before dark, a strong anchor-watch was set, and everybody else turned in to get an hour or two’s sleep, strict injunctions being laid upon the master, who had charge of the watch, to keep a bright look-out, and to have all hands called at two bells precisely in the middle watch. As for Lobo, he took leave of us directly that our anchor was down, and, rousing out his sable crew, who were fast asleep and snoring melodiously underneath the long-boat, took to his canoe, once more and almost immediately vanished among the deep black shadows of the islets that hemmed us in.

  I know not what were the feelings of others on board the brig on that eventful night, or how those two short hours of inaction were spent in other parts of the ship, but I am convinced that when we all went below to turn in, a very general conviction had spread among us that the enterprise upon which we were shortly to engage was one that would prove to be more than ordinarily difficult and dangerous, and while not one of us probably had a moment’s doubt as to its ultimate result, I believe the feeling was pretty general that the struggle would be fierce and obstinate, and that our loss would probably be unusually heavy. I gathered this from the demeanour of the ship’s crew generally, officers as well as men; the former revealing the feeling by the extreme care with which they scrut
inised and personally superintended the several preparations for the expedition, and the latter by the grim and silent earnestness with which they performed their share of the work. True, there was some faint attempt at jocularity among a few of the occupants of the midshipmen’s berth as we sought our hammocks, but it was manifestly braggadocio, utterly lacking the true ring of heartiness that usually characterised such attempts, and it was speedily nipped in the bud by Gowland, the master’s mate, who gruffly recommended the offenders to “say their prayers and then go to sleep, instead of talking nonsense.” Though I was not one of the offenders I took his advice, earnestly commending myself to the mercy and protection of the Almighty, both in the coming conflict and throughout the rest of my life, should it please Him to spare it, after which I sank quickly into a deep, untroubled sleep.

  * * *

  Chapter Three.

  The Night Attack.

  From this sleep I was aroused—in a few minutes, it seemed to me, although really it was nearly two hours later—by a boisterous banging upon the mess-table, followed by the voice of the marine who executed the functions of steward to the mess, exclaiming—

  “‘All hands,’ gentlemen, please! The captain and the first liftenant is already on deck.”

  This was followed by the rasping scrape of a lucifer match, by the feeble light of which the man’s face was seen bending over the lantern which he was endeavouring to light.

  “Ay, ay, Jerry, look alive with the lantern, man!” responded the master’s mate. “What is the night like?” he continued, as he swung himself out of his hammock and hastily proceeded to thrust his long legs into his breeches.

  “Dark as pitch, sir; blowing more than half a gale of wind, and threatening rain,” was the cheering answer.

  “A pleasant prospect, truly,” muttered Good, my especial chum, as we jostled each other in the confined space wherein we were struggling into our clothing.

  “It might be worse, however,” responded Gowland, as he knotted a black silk handkerchief tightly about his loins. “The darkness and the roar of the wind among the trees will help capitally to mask our approach, while I dare say that the craft which we are going to attack will be in such a snug berth that nobody will think it worth while to keep a look-out, blow high or blow low. I say, Pierrepoint, are you told off for the boats?”

  Pierrepoint intimated that he was.

  “Then put that rubbishy toasting-fork away and get a cutlass, boy, as Dugdale has. Of what use do you suppose a dirk would be in a hand-to-hand fight with a great burly Spaniard? Why, none at all. I can’t understand, for my part, why such useless tools are supplied for active service! Get a good honest cutlass, boy; something that you can trust your life to. And look sharp about it! Hurry up there, you loafers! Come, Burdett, my boy, stir your stumps if you don’t want a wigging from the first luff! Hillo, Jerry! what’s that, hot coffee? Well done, my man, I’ll owe you a glass of grog for that! Pour it out quickly, and rouse out the bread barge.”

  Jerry was a smart fellow and looked after us well, I will say that for him. In less than a minute a cup or pannikin of steaming coffee stood ready for each of us, with the bread barge, well supplied, in the centre of the table.

  “There’s no time for eating now, but take my advice and slip a biscuit into your pocket, each of you, to eat as soon as the boats shove off,” advised Gowland. “There is nothing worse for a man, in this climate—or any climate, for the matter of that—than to turn out and go into the open air in the middle of the night upon an empty stomach.” And, suiting the action to the word, he thrust a biscuit into each of his side-pockets, placed a morsel in his mouth, and, with the exclamation, “Well, I’m off!” darted up the ladder and disappeared.

  I followed, and, upon reaching the deck, found that all hands were mustered and waiting for inspection previous to being told off to the boats. The skipper was in his cabin, but a few minutes later—by which time all the laggards had put in an appearance—he emerged from the companion-way and the inspection at once began, great attention being given, I noticed, to those who were to go in the boats, to insure that their weapons were in serviceable order, their pistols loaded, and that each man had his due supply of cartridges. The inspection was conducted by the first lieutenant, accompanied by the captain and a sergeant of marines, the latter carrying a lantern, by the rather dim and uncertain light of which the inspection was made. The moment that this was over the men who were to participate in the expedition were told off, each to his proper boat, the boats were lowered and brought to the gangway, and in less than a quarter of an hour from the moment of our being called we were off.

  The expedition consisted of four boats; namely, the gig, the pinnace, and the first and second cutters. The gig was a very fine, handsome boat, beautifully modelled, and exceedingly fast; she was commanded by the captain himself, who led the expedition—a sure indication of the important character, in his opinion, of the impending encounter. She pulled six oars, and in addition to the skipper, my chum, Good, and her crew of seamen, carried half-a-dozen marines, four in the stern-sheets, and two forward. The pinnace was a big, roomy, and rather heavy boat, pulling ten oars, double banked, and mounting a nine-pounder gun in her bows. She was commanded by Mr Michael Ryan, the second lieutenant, a rollicking, high-spirited Irishman, whose only fault was that he lacked discretion and was utterly reckless; albeit this fault was to a great extent condoned by the effect of his influence upon the men, who would follow him anywhere. His crew, in addition to the ten oarsmen and a coxswain, consisted of little Pierrepoint and ten marines, six aft and four forward. The first and second cutters were sister boats, precisely alike in every respect, each pulling eight oars, double banked. They were rather smarter boats than the pinnace, being nearly as long but with less beam and freeboard, and finer lines. The first cutter was commanded by Gowland, the master’s mate, and carried, in addition to her crew of ten men and a coxswain, eight marines. The second cutter was entrusted to me, and carried the same complement as her consort, the first cutter. It will thus be seen that the expedition numbered seventy-seven souls in all—nearly the half of our ship’s company, in fact—the brig being left in charge of the first luff, with the master, the purser, the surgeon, young Burdett of the midshipmen’s mess, the cook and his mate, captain’s, gun-room, and wardroom stewards, and seventy-eight seamen.

  The weather, although favourable enough for such an expedition as that upon which we were engaged—and which, if our anticipations should prove correct, would depend largely for its success upon our ability to take the enemy completely by surprise—was decidedly disagreeable; for, as Jerry had reported, it was dark as pitch, the wind was sweeping athwart the river in savage gusts that roared among the trees with a volume of sound that rendered it necessary to raise the voice to a loud shout in order to make an order heard from one end of the boat to the other, and we had scarcely left the ship when it came on to rain with a fury that rendered the preservation of our ammunition from damage a serious difficulty and a source of keen anxiety. Fortunately for us, we reached the mouth of the creek a few minutes before the rain began to fall, but for which circumstance we should, have met with the utmost difficulty in discovering the entrance, and might possibly have lost a considerable amount of valuable time in the search for it. Even as it was, so intense was the darkness that, although the creek was only some two hundred yards wide, we found it impossible to keep the boats in the centre of the channel, and for a little while were constantly running foul of each other or the banks. Luckily for us, we were no sooner in the creek than its eastern bank afforded us a shelter from the direct violence of the wind, the bush and trees growing so thickly right down to the water’s edge that close inshore we were completely becalmed; and, thus sheltered, our sense of hearing helped us somewhat despite the deep roar of the gale overhead, while we quickly caught the knack of steering along the outer edge of the narrow belt of calm, in this way avoiding to a great extent the difficulties and petty mishaps that had
at first so seriously hampered our movements.

  In this way, and exposed all the while to the pelting of the heavy tropical downpour, which quickly drenched us to the skin in spite of the protection of our oil-skins, we slowly groped our way along the creek with muffled oars for rather more than an hour, when we unexpectedly found ourselves at the entrance of a fairly spacious lagoon, in the centre of which we speedily made out not one, but four craft moored right athwart the channel, completely barring our further passage. From their disposition it looked very much as though they had been moored with springs upon their cables—for their broadsides were presented fair at us—and, if so, it argued at least a suspicion on their part of a possible visit from an enemy, with doubtless a corresponding amount of precaution against the chance of being surprised.

  Scarcely had we made this discovery when the gig, which was leading, found her further progress unexpectedly interrupted by a boom composed of tree-trunks, secured together with chains, stretching right across the water-way. As she struck it a loud cry was heard proceeding from the river bank on our starboard hand, immediately followed by a musket-shot. The next moment a spark of light appeared in the same quarter, quickly increasing in size and intensity until in less than a minute a large fire, evidently caused by the ignition of a very considerable quantity of highly combustible material, was blazing fiercely in the shelter of a thick clump of overhanging bush, that seemed to almost completely shield it from the rain, which, however, had considerably moderated by this time. The dense mass of bush behind and on either side of the blazing mass acted in some sort as a reflector, concentrating the light of the fire upon the boom and our four boats clustered closely together about it, and defining them with very unpleasant distinctness against the background of impenetrable darkness.