Ran Away to Sea

Chapter Thirty Two

All the slaver’s boats were called into requisition, and the crew – every man of them – were as busy as bees.

Perhaps Brace and myself were the only ones among them who had no heart in the work; but, to keep up appearances, we were compelled to labour as the rest.

The embarkation was easy enough, and the stowage still more so. It was a different affair from taking on board a cargo of heavy barrels and boxes. The living “bales” moved of their own accord, or were forced to move, if they did not, and there was nothing further required than to march them from the barracoon to the bank, then row them to the vessel, hurry them over the side, and huddle them down the hatch to the “’tweendecks” below. The males and females were put into different compartments, though this was not done out of any regard to decency, but merely for convenience. When “stowed” thus they would be easier managed upon the passage – such was the experience of the slave-traders. The bulk-head that separated them was very slight, and they could communicate through it with each other.

With the women were stowed all the younger slaves, both girls and boys, and there were many children, poor little “piccaninnies,” jet-black, and naked as when born. Indeed, most of the whole crowd were naked, both men and women. Some of the latter had a simple skirt of cotton, or plaited palm-leaves hanging around them, and a few of the men had a piece of coarse cloth about their thighs, but many were without even this apology for a garment. Whatever they may have worn in their native place had been taken from them. No doubt the followers of King Dingo, when making them captives, had robbed them also of their scant wardrobe. The men were manacled together in twos, and sometimes three and four in a group. This was to prevent any attempt at escape, and was the work of his majesty. Only a few of the women wore chains; most likely they were those who possessed a stronger spirit than their wretched companions, and had proved refractory on their inland journey, or while kept in the barracoon. These manacles were not removed by the people of the Pandora, but just as the blacks had been delivered over, so were they crowded aboard, chains, fetters, and all.

King Dingo Bingo stood upon the bank by the place of landing and watched the embarkation, in which his bodyguard assisted. The skipper was by his side, and the two held conversation just in the same manner as if they superintended the lading of a cargo of ordinary merchandise! His majesty occasionally pointed out some one of the slaves, and made his remarks upon the qualities of the individual. He was either a good “bulto” – valuable article – or some refractory fellow that the captain was desired to watch well on the voyage. Many of the poor victims were evidently well-known to this hideous monster, and, indeed, as already hinted at, some of them were his own subjects! King Dingo Bingo thought nothing of that so long as he could sell them and get pay in return. His relation to his people generally was that of complete master and owner; and he felt towards them as a farmer to his hogs, or a grazier to his cattle. He and the captain gaily chatted and joked and laughed, when any of the poor wretches passed them whose appearance was calculated to excite ridicule; while to me the whole scene was one of disgust and sorrow, and with sad, sad heart did I assist in the spectacle.

The embarkation was still going on, and most of the unfortunate creatures had been carried aboard, when the boat of the Kroomen was observed coming rapidly up stream. These had been sent down to the mouth of the river to reconnoitre, and keep watch until the slaver should be ready for sea. In case the cutter or any sail should come in sight, they had orders to row back as quickly as possible and give the alarm.

The fact of them coming back at all was proof that some sail had been made out; and the rapidity with which they were plying their oars not only confirmed this belief, but showed that they had something very important to tell.

Both Dingo Bingo and the skipper beheld their approach with consternation, which was not allayed in the least when the Kroomen rowed alongside and delivered their report.

A sail was in sight, sure enough, and not only in sight, but actually heading in for the coast! The Kroomen had no doubt about the sort of craft it was. They had seen the cutter before setting out from the English factory. They had noted her rig. It was she.

The captain at first exhibited some signs of dismay, but after looking up to the sky and around to the tree-tops, to note which way blew the wind, he appeared to recover his spirits a little, and ordered the embarkation to be hurried on.

Meanwhile the Kroomen were despatched back to the point of observation at the mouth of the river, with orders to report from time to time the progress which the cruiser was making. The captain saw that the wind was in his favour, and dead ahead for the cutter; it would be impossible for her to enter the river so long as the wind remained in that quarter, and as it was now within an hour of night, she would scarce attempt to venture near the shore, at all events not before morning. His hopes were that she would cast anchor a mile or two from land, and that in the darkness he would be able to run the gauntlet and get past her. He might catch a shot or two while doing so, but his cargo was worth the risk, and, besides, he had now no other chance of saving either cargo or vessel. Should he remain where he was, both would be captured before another night.

He had formed his resolution, therefore, to run the gauntlet as described, that is, provided the cutter came to anchor far enough out to sea to give him a chance. His trust was in the wind, which from this time forth he watched with the greatest anxiety.

Chapter Thirty Three

The living freight was at length all taken aboard and stowed away between decks, the grated hatches were fastened down, and a ruffian sentry with musket and bayonet stood by each, ready to use his weapon upon any of the poor wretches who might try to get on deck.

The captain only waited for the report of the Kroomen.

This came at length, and proved favourable, as the slaver had expected. The cutter had failed to beat in to the shore. She had given up, and cast anchor at about two miles’ distance from the river’s mouth, there to await a change in the wind, or the light of another day. It was the very course that the slave-captain had desired her to take, and which he had expected. From the position which the cutter occupied, and which had been faithfully described by the boatmen, he had no doubt of being able to get past her in the night. He was once more in high spirits, and sanguine of success. Both he and his majesty were in a big humour, and the rum-glass went merrily round.

This final carouse occurred upon shore, and in the quarters of his majesty, whose “treat” it was. The mate, with a boat, had gone down the river to have a good view of the anchored enemy and become perfectly acquainted with her position, with the object of making correct calculations about passing her.

Meanwhile, the captain remained on shore, to enjoy the parting glass and talk over future prospects with King Dingo Bingo. Some of the crew were there as well, among whom were Brace and myself – our purpose being to man the captain’s gig and row him aboard as soon as he should take leave of his majesty and suite.

It still wanted about half an hour of sunset when the mate returned from his reconnoissance and reported that the cutter was anchored just as the Kroomen had described; and as the wind was still in the same quarter, blowing directly from the shore, there was every probability that the Pandora would make her escape. Both mate and captain knew the coast well, and knew that they could run out by keeping well to the south of where the cutter lay. On that side the water was deep and open, and if the wind held fair their chances would be good. There was one thing, however, which both feared, and that was the cutter’s boats entering the river before the Pandora should have time to weigh anchor and drop down to the sea. It was possible enough that the cruiser knew the slaver was in the river. If so, and finding that she could not beat near enough under the contrary wind, she might get out her boats and row them up to the river’s mouth, so as to blockade it. The cruiser’s people might do this very thing in anticipation of the trick which the slaver intended to serve them. If, on the contrary, they were not yet aware of the neighbourhood of the Pandora, they might not think of coming in before the morning. It is true they could not perceive the slaver’s masts – these were not visible from the sea – the tall teak-trees and other giants of the forest interposed their umbrageous tops between, and even the high truck of the barque could not be observed so far inland. But it was possible that the cruiser was acting upon information, and if so she would know well enough where the slaver was to be found, and might design to make the attack by means of her armed boats that very night.

All this was probable enough – the slaver captain knew it to be so, and hence his anxiety to be gone at the earliest moment.

As soon, therefore, as darkness should descend upon the earth it was his intention to take in his anchor, drop quietly down the river, and then make a bold dash to seaward.

His design was a sufficiently good one. Though it appeared rash, there was no rashness about it. It was his only chance of saving his vessel, and cargo too, for the one being captured he would be likely to lose the other, and if the Pandora but remained all night at anchor where she now lay, she would, in all probability, be a prize before the morning. Whether or not, her chances of escape in the daylight would be greatly diminished. The cutter would see her tall masts long before she could get out of the river, and, of course, would have time to manoeuvre and intercept her. Whereas, by dropping down in the night, she might be well out to sea before any one on board the cruiser should notice her at all.

It was finally resolved then by the Pandora’s officers to sail the moment the darkness came down; and both were wishing, in their own blasphemous way, for a dark night.

It yet wanted a few minutes of sundown as the captain took his last embrace of King Dingo Bingo, and stepped out of the “palace.” His majesty came swaggering along to conduct his guest to the landing, while several of the sable courtiers followed in his train.

All stood upon the bank while the captain was getting into his gig. Brace and I, with the other men of the crew, had already seated ourselves in the boat, and were holding the oars balanced and ready, when all at once we were interrupted by a singular exclamation from the king.

On looking up I perceived that his eyes were fixed upon me, and the fat monster was gazing at me as if he desired to eat me up – while all the while he kept jabbering to the captain in a language which I could not comprehend.

Notwithstanding the time we had been at his factory, I had never attracted the attention of his majesty before. I don’t think he had ever seen me before – that is, to take particular notice of me. I had been, as already stated, all the time on board, with the exception of that very evening, and the day I had spent with Brace in the woods; and although the slave-king had been often aboard I had never come in his way, as he usually stayed about the quarter-deck, or in the cabin. It is likely enough, therefore, that this was the first time he had set eyes upon me to notice me.

But for what reason was he taking such particular notice of me now? Although I could not tell what he said – for the captain and he talked in a sort of bastard Portuguese (the best-known language in these parts); yet I perceived by his countenance and the animated gestures which he made use of, that either myself, or something about me, greatly interested him.

Brace was sitting near me, and, without raising my voice above a whisper, I asked him to tell me what the fuss was all about – for it had now assumed something of this character – both the captain and the king talking hurriedly, earnestly and loudly, in their barbarous jargon.

Brace’s reply was —

“The king ha’ taken a fancy to you – he wants to buy you!”

Chapter Thirty Four

On hearing this explanation I at first felt inclined to laugh, but my mirthful inclinations were soon dissipated. The serious tone of my companion’s voice, and, above all, the earnest manner of the skipper and king, as they talked the subject between them, at once proved that the thing was no joke.

The captain did not at first appear desirous of acceding to the request of the negro; but the latter appeared to press the point with so much solicitation and earnestness that the white ruffian, stimulated by feelings of cupidity, evidently began to yield. Five blacks were offered in exchange for me – so Brace said, and they were now squabbling about a sixth! The captain had, in fact, virtually consented to sell me – it was only a question of price!

I was perfectly horrified when I learned this much. Brace himself was greatly troubled – for he knew well that the brute in whose power I was would have no scruples in making such a bargain. The only reason he refused at first was because he had found me useful on board his barque, but if he could add six able-bodied blacks to his cargo – six that would fetch 200 pounds each on the Brazilian coast, that would be a consideration that would far outbalance any service of mine. Of course he felt no responsibility about the matter. To whom was he accountable? – a slaver! an outlaw! Where and when was I ever to report or punish him! Nowhere and never. He might have sold me into slavery a dozen times – taken my life, if it had so pleased him, without the slightest danger of being called to account for it – and he well knew this.

No wonder then I became horrified. The idea of becoming the slave of that hideous and greasy savage – that cruel monster – a wholesale dealer in human lives – a trafficker in flesh and blood. Oh! it was revolting!

I can hardly describe the remainder of that trying scene. I was in such agony I knew not how to act, or what to say. I remember being told that the bargain was concluded, that the king had agreed to give six blacks for me, and the skipper had consented to take them; and to prove that this was really so, I saw the latter step out of the boat and return to the hut, arm in arm with the gross savage. They were gone, so said Brace, to conclude the bargain over a glass of rum.

I raved, and shouted, and threatened, and, perhaps at that moment, blasphemed. I was not master of my speech, nor yet of my actions. I was so appalled with the prospect before me that I could have thrown myself into the river. Oh! it seemed a horrible fate – thus to be sold into worse than captivity – a slavery worse than death, to live the slave of a barbarous monster, with no hope of deliverance, for whence could deliverance come? Oh! it seemed a horrible fate! and I was almost frantic.

My cries and gestures only drew laughter from the crowd of blacks that still lingered upon the bank, and some of them mocked and taunted me in their native gibberish. Even the men in the boat did not care much about the matter.

Brace alone felt and sympathised with me, but what could he do? I saw from his manner that he felt powerless to protect me. They would have mastered and punished him, had he opposed their wishes.

I wondered, however, that he kept so cool and quiet. I fancied he might have shown more feeling; but I was wronging him. He felt keenly, and I soon learnt the cause of his being so silent. He had been busy all the while – busy with his thoughts – busy in maturing a plan for my escape.

As soon as the captain and king had gone back from the bank, my companion shifted a little nearer; and in a low, muttering voice that could not be heard by the rest, thus addressed me: —

“No help for’t, my lad – sold you for six blacks. Go along wi’ king – pretend to go willin’, or they’ll tie you. Don’t be obstropelous an’ get tied – be patient and keep sharp look out till ‘Pandy’ trips anchor, then gie ’em the slip – easy enough in the dark – keep down the bank o’ the river – near the mouth take to water – swim straight for barque – I’ll be on the look out and throw ye a rope’s end. Don’t fear to come on – old Mugs won’t mind your getting aboard – only too glad to get you back an’ play Dingo Bingo a trick. Mind an’ do as I’ve told you. Avast, hush – yonder they come.”

Delivered as this speech was, half in whisper, and half in interrupted mutterings, I comprehended its reasonable design, and had just time to promise obedience to its directions when I perceived the captain returning to the boat.

He was not alone. The king was waddling by his side, and just behind them were six large negroes, chained two and two, and driven forward by as many armed myrmidons of their own colour.

It was for the first six I was to be “swopped,” or rather had already been, for the bargain was concluded and the blacks were being delivered over to form part of the slaver’s cargo.

These new “bultos” were not slaves – at least, they had not been such ten minutes before. They were some of the regular followers of the negro king; and, but a short while ago, carried muskets and formed part of his military array, ready to kill or capture his enemies at his nod, or even his friends if bidden. But fortune is fickle to such heroes, and their more favoured companions had just been directed to capture them and deliver them over to a life-long bondage.

In a few minutes more they were huddled unceremoniously into the boat, while I was pulled out of it with as little ceremony and handed over to my new master upon the bank.

No doubt the skipper was surprised that I made so little opposition, and the king seemed equally pleased – for he conducted me with a species of drunken politeness into the palace and insisted upon my drinking with him a glass of his best rum.

I looked through the apertures of the upright palms that formed the walls of the hut. I saw the gig cross over to the anchored vessel, and those whom she carried mount over the gangway. The boat was then rowed astern, the tackle was let down from above, and in a few minutes she was hauled high out of water to her place under the poop.

No longer had I a chance to reach the barque without swimming for it, and for that was now to prepare myself.

Chapter Thirty Five

I remembered the advice of Brace, and submitted, with as good grace as I could, to the hospitalities of his black majesty. I drank a portion of his rum, and even appeared jolly! He seemed greatly pleased with my behaviour, and evidently esteemed me a good bargain; though the slave-captain had screwed him far above his original offer. His first bid had been a fair exchange – man for man, or man for boy – a black for a white, and he must have been strongly bent on the purchase to have given six to one!

What could he intend me for? – a slave to wait upon him? hand him his food when he should feel inclined to eat? his rum when he desired to drink? fan the mosquitoes off him when he was asleep? and amuse him when awake? Was this the sort of life for which he had designed me? or was he going to promote me to some higher employ? make me his private secretary or clerk? his prime minister, perhaps? marry me to one of his dark-skinned daughters? make a prince of me?

From the hospitable manner in which he began his treatment of me, I really had thought, that if I continued to please him, he would give me an easy life of it. I had heard of such cases, where white men had become the favourites of negro princes, and had been placed in offices of high trust; and, perhaps, such would have been my destiny, had I remained with King Dingo Bingo.

But even had I been assured of the best of treatment – even had I been promised the highest office in his kingdom – the throne itself, with the handsomest of his daughters for my queen – I should have held on to my intention of running away from him all the same, and returning to the barque. It was certainly no Elysium to fly to – perhaps from the fire into the frying-pan; but still there was the hope that my life on board the Pandora would not be of long continuance, and even there, under the protection of Brace, they had of late treated me less cruelly.

As for King Dingo Bingo, I felt a loathing in his company that I cannot describe. I felt a presentiment of some terrible evil, and I was resolved, if I did not succeed in reaching the barque, to run away from him all the same and try my fortune in the woods. Yes; notwithstanding its lions and other fierce brutes, I was determined to escape to the forest and live as I best might, or die if I could not live.

There was a thought in my mind. I had heard them talk of the English factory farther up the coast – fifty miles farther. I might succeed in getting there. An Englishman was its chief.

True, they said he was a friend of King Dingo – a partner in fact – and from what had transpired I had reason to believe that this was but too true. Still he was an Englishman. Surely he would not give me up – surely he dared not. I thought, too, of the cruiser. She would protect, she would not give me up; but, on the contrary, would have blown his black majesty to the skies for making such a demand. If I could only make known my situation – but how was that to be done? Impossible! By the morrow’s sun she would be he longer on the coast. She would be gone in pursuit of the Pandora– perhaps within another hour!

I was loathing the presence of the negro king, who appeared trying, in his rude manner, to be agreeable. He plied me with rum, and I pretended to drink it. I could not understand his talk, though a few English words, and those of the most vulgar in our language, were familiar enough after my voyage in the Pandora. But his majesty was by this time so drunk that even his own people could with difficulty understand him; and every moment he was yielding more and more to the potent spirit.

I joyed at observing this – it would help my purpose. I joyed to see him stagger over the floor, and still more when he stumbled against a sort of couch-bed and fell heavily upon it.

The next moment he was sound asleep – a deep, drunken sleep. His snore was music to my ears – though it resembled the dying snort of a prize ox.

At this moment I heard across the river the clacking of the windlass, and the rough rasping of the anchor chain as it was drawn through the iron ring of the hawse-hole.

Most of the royal attendants were out upon the bank to witness the departure of the barque, just visible through the dim twilight.

I waited a few minutes longer, lest I should set forth too soon, and, therefore, be pursued and overtaken before I could get down to the mouth of the river. I knew that the barque would move but slowly – the stream was narrow and curved in several places, and therefore she could not use her sails. She would drop down by the force of the current, and I could easily keep up with her.

The attendants of the king were in no way suspicious of my intentions. They observed that I appeared well pleased with my new situation. No doubt most of them envied me my good fortune, and it is probable I was looked upon as the “new favourite.” It was not likely I should run away from such splendid prospects – not likely indeed! Such an idea never entered the mind of one of the sable gentlemen who surrounded me; and as soon as his majesty fell asleep, I was left free to go about wherever I pleased. Just then it pleased me to skulk backward behind the great barracoon, and a little further still into the thick woods beyond. For this point I took a diagonal line that led me back to the river bank again – only at a considerable distance below the “factory” – and, having now got beyond earshot of the negro crew, and altogether out of their sight, I advanced as rapidly down the bank as the brushwood would permit me.