Ran Away to Sea

Chapter Thirty Six

I had observed before starting, that the barque had got up her anchor and was slowly gliding down stream. At intervals I turned a little out of my way and came close to the edge of the water, to make sure that she was not getting ahead of me; and then I would glide back into the path, which ran parallel with the stream, but at several yards’ distance from the bank.

Guiding myself thus, I advanced at about the same rate as the vessel was going, and every now and then had her under my eye through the openings in the trees.

I had no difficulty in making her out, for, contrary to the wish of the slave-captain, the night was a bright one, with a clear moon coursing through a sky that was without a single cloud.

Slowly as sailed the barque, it was just as much as I could do to keep up with her. Had the path been open there would have been no difficulty – but there was in reality no path at all, only a track made by wild animals, which here and there was closed up above with trailing vines and creeping plants, that stretched from tree to tree and hindered my rapid advance. Though beasts could go under these natural bridges without impediment, a human being had to crouch under or climb over, and all this required time. There were so many of these obstructions that I was greatly delayed by them, and found it just as much as I could do to keep square with the vessel constantly moving onward. I knew that I must get a good way ahead of her, so as to choose a place for taking to the water and swimming out to her as she passed down. As the river grew wider near its mouth I was likely to have a long swim for it.

Several times I was terrified by the appearance of wild beasts, whose forms I could just distinguish in the obscurity that reigned under the shadows of the trees. I saw several kinds, and some of immense size that went crashing through the underwood as I came suddenly upon them. These must have been either rhinoceroses or the large hippopotamus – I could not tell which under the shadows – but whichever they were, they ran off at my approach. I might have feared them more than I did, had it not been that a greater fear was upon me. I feared to hear the voices of King Dingo Bingo and his black guards behind me. I feared this more than anything; and at intervals I stopped upon the path and listened.

But indeed they would need to have been near for me to have heard them. The forest was filled with other sounds, and only a very loud noise could have been heard above the general chorus. There was the shrill chirrup of cicadas and tree-crickets, the hoarse croaking of toads and frogs – some of these as loud as the routing of a bull – there was screaming of cats, the barking of jackals, and the chattering and howling of monkeys. A perfect chorus of discordant sounds produced by the barque moving down the river, and no doubt partially by my own passage through the underwood. One kind set the other a-going, and the alarm and consequent noises proceeding from it spread to a far distance through the forest.

I thought it less probable that I should be followed through the woods, than down the stream itself. When missed, a canoe was most likely to be brought into requisition – perhaps the royal galley itself, with his majesty to guide the pursuit. They would remember that I had disappeared just at the moment the barque weighed anchor, and would suspect that I had gone aboard at once. It was far more likely, therefore, the search would be made upon the water, and the pursuers would paddle their craft directly for the barque. Under this belief I gave uneasy glances up the river, whenever I could command a view of it. As yet no pursuers appeared.

Another consideration troubled me. The Kroomen had gone to the river’s mouth to watch the movements of the cruiser and report whether she had launched any boats. Now these fellows were entirely in the interest of King Dingo. They might see me as I swam to the barque, and, taking me into their boat, carry me back to the factory. They had been present when the bargain was made, and knew all about it. I must, therefore, look out for their boat and avoid it.

With such thoughts and resolves passing through my mind, I once more marked the progress of the vessel and, diving into the underwood, kept on.

At length I reached a point where there was a bend in the river. It was not far from its mouth. Beyond this place the stream widened into a sort of bay.

It would not do for me to go beyond. I should have too long a swim for it; besides, the barque was about being got under sail – her canvas was already loose; and once the sails were sheeted home, they would catch the wind and carry her rapidly through the water – so rapidly that I might not be able to get aboard.

I had gone far enough. I had reached the point where it was best for me to take to the water; and, flinging off my shoes and most of my clothing, I stepped down to the water’s edge and plunged in.

Chapter Thirty Seven

The barque was not yet opposite me; but, by the rate at which she was moving, I calculated she would be so by the time I could arrive in midstream.

Brace had told me to swim for the bows – for he would be there with his rope; while, in case I should not be able to lay hold of it another would be ready at the gangway ports with a second rope. One or other would be sure to haul me in; but it would be better if I could get aboard at the bows, as then I might not be observed either by mate or skipper, and even should his majesty come after me I could be hidden away about the forecastle. The skipper, not knowing I was aboard, would, of course, deny me with a will. I was determined, therefore, to do all I could to get aboard by the bows.

I was an excellent swimmer – not surpassed by any of the Pandora’s crew, except, perhaps, by Brace himself, who was one of the best in the world. I had practised a great deal in my schooldays in rivers, fresh-water lakes, and the sea itself; and I thought nothing of swimming a mile or more without rest. Crossing from the bank of the river to midstream – a distance of not over two hundred yards – was a mere bagatelle, and I had no apprehension of not being able to accomplish it at my ease.

But although I had no apprehension about my powers of swimming, I was keenly sensible of danger from another source. I had not thought of it before that moment – for the excitement of escaping, and the difficulty of making my way through the underwood, had driven every thought of danger out of my head, except that of being pursued. The peril from behind had prevented me from dwelling upon dangers ahead; and, it was only after I had plunged into the stream, that I became the victim of a keen apprehension. Then, and not till then, did I remember the fate of the unfortunate Dutchman! – then, and not till then, did I think of the crocodiles!

A horrid sensation came over me – a dread feeling of fear. My blood ran cold – far colder than the water of the stream – perhaps at that moment I was within reach of a huge man-eating crocodile? at all events, within sight, for some of these hideous monsters were sure to be near, either by one bank or the other. Indeed, as I was about to plunge in I saw a long dark form by the shore, some twenty yards further down, which I had taken for a floating log. The noise made by my body striking the water had caused it to move. I thought then it was the current; but now, under my keen apprehensions, I thought differently. It was no dead log – it was the motion of a living creature – beyond doubt a huge crocodile!

This conjecture soon became a conviction. A floating log would scarce have settled there, against the sedgy bank, and where there was current enough to carry it onward; it was no log, it was the great lizard itself.

I could not restrain myself from half turning round, and raising my body body high in the water to look back. The clear moonlight gave me every advantage, and I could perceive any object on the water almost as distinctly as by day.

One glance was sufficient to make me aware of my perilous position. Merciful heaven! my conjecture was too true! – the dead log was no log, but an enormous crocodile! – its hideous shape was plainly seen; its long cloven head and broad scaly back glittered high above the water, and its snout was elevated and turned towards me, as though it was just getting over a surprise, and coming to the knowledge of what sort of creature I was.

Its surprise, however, was soon over, and before I could stretch myself to swim on, I saw it lash the water into foam with its tail – as if to set itself in motion – and the next moment it parted from the bank and came rushing towards me!

Its body was now sunk below the surface, but its blunt, haggard head, and sharp snout were projected high above the water.

I saw all this as I turned round again; and with a feeling of cold horror upon me I swam on.

The barque was now near – her bows were not fifty yards distant, and the crocodile was still more than a hundred behind me. But I well knew that these amphibious monsters can far outswim a man. Through the water they make progress as an otter, and with like rapidity. I felt sure I should be overtaken, and then —

The cold horror continued – I screamed out for help – I continued my cries as I swam on!

I heard voices from the barque, in answer to my cries. I could see forms gliding about the head, and running out upon the bumpkin-shrouds, and along the bowsprit I could distinguish the deep voice of Brace uttering words of encouragement and direction.

I was under the bowsprit-end – I could see no rope – I looked in vain for a rope – none had been thrown to me. Oh, heavens! what was I to do?

Once more I raised myself in the water, and looked back. It was an appalling sight. The black head of the crocodile glittered within ten feet of me – I could see the jaws extended – the long, irregular tusks – the strong, scaly limbs, as they paddled the water.

In another instant I should have felt those terrible teeth; and, gripped between the hard jaws of the monster, as in a vice, would have been dragged to the bottom of the dark waters had it been my destiny.

But it was not so written in the book of fate. Just as I had given myself up for lost, I felt a strong hand clutching my garments by the waist, and the instant after I was lifted clear out of the river, and hoisted high into the air! The crocodile made a rush forward and leaped far above the surface; but I had been raised beyond his reach, and he fell back with a plunge, and for some moments continued lashing the water with his tail. Then, seeing that his victim had escaped him, he swam off, and disappeared round the side of the vessel.

I scarce knew how I had been so miraculously saved. Despair and terror had confused my senses; and it was only after I had passed above, and set upon my feet upon the firm deck, that I understood all.

Brace was my preserver. He had run out to the bowsprit-end, and from that had slipped down the dolphin-striker, and let himself still lower by means of a looped rope. By this means he had been enabled to swing himself down, so that he could reach the surface. Fortunately, it was at that moment that I had risen in the water to face the crocodile, and had thus given Brace the opportunity of gripping me firmly and jerking me aloft.

It was a very tight fit, however; and I vowed, that, unless forced to it, I would never again bathe my limbs in the waters of an African river.

Chapter Thirty Eight

I have no doubt that the skipper knew all about my coming aboard. Indeed, there had been such a noise made by the men while the crocodile was in pursuit of me, that it was impossible that either he or the mate could be ignorant of the cause of it. I was taken down to the forecastle, however, and heard not a word about being sent back. In truth, as Ben had already informed me in his mutterings, the skipper was rather pleased than otherwise, at being able to overreach King Dingo, and as he had found me useful to himself he had no desire to let me go. It was only the large profit he expected by the exchange that had tempted him to part with me; but so long as he had kept his bargain and regularly delivered me over, his conscience was satisfied, and he was in no way offended or displeased that I found my way back to the barque. Unless, therefore, the canoe came after us and demanded me to be given up, I would not have to go back to Dingo Bingo.

It was not until we were cleverly out of the river, and the Pandora had spread her wings to the breeze, and was standing towards the open sea, that I felt easy in my mind. Many an uneasy glance did I cast up the river as we floated slowly towards its mouth, noting every dark object and every ripple that appeared upon its current. It was not the crocodile that caused me to look tremblingly back; it was a still more hideous monster I dreaded – the long canoe with its row of sable rowers, and King Dingo Bingo in the stern.

The thought of being taken back was dreadful in the extreme. I should no longer be treated with kindness; on the contrary, the spiteful monarch would punish me for my attempt to escape, would revenge himself for the deception I had practised upon him – would lead me a life of the greatest misery.

Yes, it would be a sad affair to be retaken; and not till the Pandora had swept out of the river’s mouth – not till the Kroomen’s boat had been passed, and we were scudding out into the wide sea did I get over my apprehension.

Then was I relieved from all uneasiness on the score of Dingo Bingo, and the moment after had ceased to think of him and his brutal myrmidons.

Yes – the moment after – for a new scene was upon the stage – a new spectacle was to be enacted of which I was to be a witness.

As soon as the the Pandora had passed the river-bar she was visible to the cutter, from the water-line to the truck, and so was the cutter to her. Both vessels had a full view of each other, or might have had, for the moon was shining so clear that a ship could be traced at a long distance off. The cutter’s people, however, did not appear to notice the slaver, until the latter had got several hundred yards out to sea. Perhaps the shadowy background of the forest obscured her, or the watch may have been careless. Whether or no, it was some minutes before there was any movement on board the cruiser. Then a movement was observed which showed that she had discovered the barque. The drum was heard sounding the alarm, and her sails were unfurled with all the rapidity which results from sufficient strength in a crew, combined with perfect discipline.

Notwithstanding the advantage which the slave-captain had obtained from the boldness of his attempt and the suddenness of his appearance, there was one circumstance that had turned against him. During the hour or two that had intervened since the cruiser had dropped anchor, the wind had veered round nearly a full quarter, and, instead of blowing direct from the land, its course was now nearly parallel with the shore.

Of course the experienced skipper had observed the change long ago – it required only a glance to perceive it – the cutter herself, now lying at anchor, beam-ends to the shore, indicated the change, for the Kroomen had reported, that when she first anchored her head was pointed directly for the land.

The slave-captain with chagrin observed this change in the wind, and with an apprehension he had not before felt. Had the wind continued in the same quarter as when the cruiser was first reported, he knew that he could easily run out past her. The breeze would have then been upon his own quarter, and in that way his crank-vessel sailed best; and by making good speed along the diagonal line, he had calculated on being able to get past, with only the risk from a long shot or two.

The change, however, was against him. The cruiser was directly out to sea – about two miles from the river’s mouth. He could not sail to windward of her, as that would be too close to the wind for his own vessel, unless he kept within range of shot; and it so happened that to leeward there was a shoal, or long sand-bank, that stretched almost from the shore to where the cutter was lying. There may have been a distance of half a mile between the cutter and the edge of this shoal, but this was not a sufficient width for running the gauntlet as the slave-captain had intended. The warship, running down the wind, would easily have intercepted the barque before she could have passed through, and given the latter such a broadside as would have crippled and brought her to at once.

I was standing near the skipper and his mate, and listening to their horrid execrations as they perceived the dilemma they were in. I was listening, because I was as much interested as they could have been in the result – though with hopes and wishes directly antagonistic to theirs – I was praying in my heart that we should be captured! Even at the risk of being killed by a broadside from one of my own country’s ships, I could not help desiring this termination to the affair.

Even though I had been but a few minutes aboard, since the lading of the cargo, I was already impressed with the awful scene – I felt pity – keen compassion – blended with loathing. The horrid howling of the blacks, crowded to suffocation below – their cries of entreaty, and, at times, of menace – were a foretaste of what I should be compelled to listen to for weeks, perhaps months. Oh! it would be a fearful existence. In my heart I prayed that we should be captured.

Chapter Thirty Nine

I was beginning to draw hope from the behaviour of the slave-captain and his mate. Their apprehension increased as they saw the cutter expand her sails and commence moving through the water. So rapid was the manoeuvre, it was evident she had not waited to take up her anchor, but had cut the cable! So said the people of the Pandora.

The mate appeared to urge some desperate course upon his superior. His words were – as I heard them: —

“We can’t pass her – it’s no use, by – , the other’s our only chance – the tide’s well in – there’ll be no danger.”

“Try it, then!” was the captain’s reply; “we’ll be taken anyhow if we don’t, and, by – , I’d rather go to pieces on a reef than be taken by this bloody so-and-so.”

The blasphemous dialogue ended, and the mate hurried off to give some directions to the crew.

I knew not what they meant to do, but in a few moments after, I observed that the Pandora suddenly changed her course and steered direct for the cutter! One would have thought she was going to run right down upon the latter, as if to ride over her, or have a shot from her bow-ports; and no doubt the warship was astonished at the manoeuvre, as were many of the slaver’s own crew.

The mate, however, who had counselled this movement, had a method in his madness. It was not his intention to rush upon destruction, so certain as that would have been; and before the Pandora had sailed three cables’ length in its new direction, she was seen to tack round, till the wind lay upon her beam and her bowsprit once more pointed towards the land!

This manoeuvre was still a mystery to most of the slaver’s crew, who, of course, acted only in obedience to orders. There were a few of them, however, in the confidence of their officers who knew the intention.

The cruiser evidently did not. No doubt the idea of her commander was that the barque was making back for the river, for towards that point was she now heading. Seeing that she could not escape out to sea, she was giving up the attempt, and her crew were now resolved in running the vessel either into the river again, or ashore anywhere, with the design of abandoning her and making their escape to the boats. Thus only could the cutter’s commander interpret the strange manoeuvre of the barque. He never suspected a ruse, for there seemed no chance of affecting one. But the cutter’s commander was mistaken. A ruse was intended, and, in less than twenty minutes after, was carried out before the commander’s eyes, no doubt to his astonishment and chagrin. If the slave-captain and his assistant lacked humanity, they were not deficient in seamanship, and their superior knowledge of the coast now gave them the advantage.

As soon as it was perceived that the slaver had tacked and was heading back towards the river, the cruiser also changed her course and followed after. Of course the latter made all speed, in full expectation of either capturing the barque at once, on chasing her into the river, where she would become an easy prey. The only fear now among the cutter’s crew was, that the slaver’s would either scuttle the barque, or set fire to her on leaving; and, with the thoughts of prize-money in their minds, this was their great source of apprehension. But they were determined to give no time either for scuttling or burning, and every hand on board the warship was exerting himself to produce speed.

I have stated that there was a reef to leeward: it should rather be called a shoal, since it was a sort of muddy sand-bank formed by the current of the river, and running diagonally into the sea for a long distance – a sort of low peninsula. Now this sand-bank, where it joined the land, was usually covered with water, and, during full tides, a good-sized ship might cross over the miniature isthmus, and get out to sea through the long reach of water between the sand-bank and the shore. It was only at high-tide that this could be done, with a vessel drawing any considerable depth of water.

For some ten minutes had the chase continued – one vessel following directly in the wake of the other. The barque was now close into the land, and as if about to enter the river’s mouth, while the cutter was a half-mile astern, and just opposite the longitudinal edge of the shoal.

At this moment the slaver let slip her lee braces – her head came round till the wind was right astern, and she stood right in behind the reef. It was a moment of anxiety among her crew. In another instant she would strike or go free. In another instant she would be bilging helplessly among the sands of Africa, or would be on her course free and unimpeded for the shores of America!

This time the triumph was for the wicked. The barque scraped the sand upon the bottom, but passed safely across. The crisis was over, and the hoarse huzza of that ruffian crew announced the victory!

Further pursuit was useless. The cutter was still climbing along the edge of the sandy shoal – slowly, for wind and tide were against her, while the barque, with all sail set, was scudding down the opposite side at the rate of twelve knots an hour!

Shots were fired from the cruiser’s guns, but with little effect – a broken spar and a rope or two cut in the rigging were easily set to rights; and before the cutter could wear and get out to sea the slave-ship was far, far away towards the rim of the horizon!

Chapter Forty

Of the cutter we never saw more. When the sun rose there was no sail in sight, and the slaver alone upon the ocean, was standing upon her westward course, under a soft gentle breeze and a cloud of sail. No doubt the cutter had abandoned the chase near the coast – for her former experience had taught her, that under such a light wind she was no match for the barque. She saw that the later had escaped – that it would be useless to follow her out into the Atlantic – and she was constrained, therefore, to go in search of other slavers that might prove less fleet than the Pandora.

Under these circumstances the chase was abandoned, and the barque was now free to traverse the wide Atlantic ocean, and deliver her human cargo on the Brazilian shores. It would be a mere accident if she met with further interruption. Possibly, an English man-o’-war of the South American squadron might yet overhaul her; but far more likely she would find her way into some quiet little Brazilian harbour – or into Cuba if she preferred it – where she would be entirely welcome, and where her owner would find not the least difficulty in disposing of his five hundred “bales,” or ten times the number if he had had them.

This then was the probable destiny of the Pandora. Her voyage was to be a success; five hundred more unfortunate beings were to swell the ranks of slavery – her captain would be enriched – her crew would receive bounty and live for a time in riotous debauchery – and all this at the expense of every right of humanity – every principle of morality.