As soon as my father came on board he said, “Why, what is all this? where is Pentlea gone, and what does your letter mean?”

We soon told him of how Simon Pentlea had left, and the condition in which we had found the cabin when we broke into it. On looking round, he said that matters might have been much worse; for though the doubloons Camacho had given for the stores and some fifty pounds in English money had been stolen, the mate had not found out the place where he kept his greatest store of coin, nor yet where the corals and valuable beads worth five hundred pounds were kept. Altogether with the cloth and the money that had been taken the loss would amount to two hundred pounds. But the breaking of the chronometer and barometer was a serious matter, as he did not see how they could be replaced. As night was now coming on, we could not lodge a complaint with the caboceer of the beach before morning; and it was much to be feared Pentlea would have cleared out before then. As for obtaining any satisfaction from his slave-dealing friends, that was not to be expected at all.

As it was there was nothing to do but to put the cabin straight and wait for the morning. My father then went on shore again, and this time took me with him, as he said I could be useful to him in writing down the goods he was selling and the produce he was to receive for them.

I was delighted with the idea of a run ashore, and dressed myself in clean white clothes, and was going into the boat, when Fore-topsail, who was boatswain of the one we were going to land in, said, “Why, massa, s’pose water come in boat where white kit be.” I ran down again for my waterproof, which I was going to put on, but I was stopped by Willie, who said I should only put it over my shoulders, so that if the boat should capsize I should be clear of it at once.

We shoved off from the ship, the Kruboys sitting at the sides of the boat looking forward, and as they dashed their paddles into the water, striking up a wild song to which they kept time, Fore-topsail stood up aft and steered with an oar, giving them occasional bits of solo—I was going to say melody, but to an Englishman the vocalism of these fellows did not possess melody.

The boat creaked with the strain of the paddling, and seemed to fly over the glassy surface of the swell which was rolling in toward the beach, and I thought that in a minute or two more we should be on shore. Suddenly Fore-topsail ordered the men to be quiet, and my father said, “Now, my lad, sit as quiet as possible, and if the boat does capsize, mind the first thing you have to do is to get clear of her, and then trust yourself to the boys, and they will bring you safe on shore.”

This gave me the first real idea that I had had that crossing a surf was really dangerous. Though I had been told all sorts of yarns about boats capsizing and accidents in the surf, and had hoped, in the way that boys always do hope for adventures, that I might see something of the kind and be the hero of one, yet I had not thought that it was to come so soon. When I saw the huge rollers in front of us, and heard the roar of the surf as it dashed on the beach, I began then to wish that some one else might be the hero of a capsize instead of myself.

I sat quiet, as my father told me, and watched Fore-topsail, who carefully scanned the rollers coming in mountains high, and seeming as if they would swallow up our boat altogether. The men paddled gently along, and then suddenly began to back at a word from Fore-topsail, and when we were lifted up on the top of a great billow, they held their paddles out of the water, ready to paddle like mad at the right moment.

Before us was a great gulf, and we seemed to slide back on the shoulder of the wave that fell down in front of us with a surge and a crash. The men dashed their paddles into the water, and we were hurried along at railway speed, with foaming water flying all around us, and Fore-topsail straining at his oar to keep us straight. Little by little the flying water left us astern, and another huge billow rose threatening behind. We again backed to let it pass us before it began to curl over before breaking. In this we were successful, and again came a plunge and a dash and a hurrying along like a whirlwind. I entirely lost all idea of fear. The motion of boat and water, and the voices of the men urging each other to strain their muscles to the utmost, were most exhilarating. I could have wished that the lines of breakers through which we had to pass had been five times as numerous as they were, and I was sorry when at last we touched ground.

The moment the bow of the boat touched the beach the Kruboys, throwing their paddles overboard, jumped into the water, and seizing hold of the gunwale, ran us up high and dry on the beach out of the reach of the waves.

My father, who had watched me carefully during our passage through the breakers, said, “You’ll do, my boy. What do you think of an African beach now?”

“Why, father, it is lovely. I don’t know anything more delightful than flying in on the back of a wave as we did.”

“Yes, it’s delightful, certainly, but it’s dangerous. But now we must make haste to see if we can find anything of that fellow Pentlea.—You, Fore-topsail, tell four men to carry those things,” pointing to some packages of samples, “to Mr. Macarthy’s factory; and send two men to Billy Barlow and tell him to let his men bring his boat along the beach to where yours is, and come himself to me at the factory.”

The beach at Whydah was a curious sight to me. There were boats belonging to the different ships in the roads loading and discharging cargo; pigs and turkey-buzzards revelling in filth and garbage of all descriptions; gangs of slaves working under the orders of the officials of the king; Dahoman soldiers with flint-lock muskets, and men, black and white, mounted on little spirited ponies; the large factories of the European traders with their stockaded yards, those of the slave-dealers being distinguished by large barracoons attached to them; and the native town, which was a regular jumble of huts of all sorts and kinds, the houses of the caboceers and other great men standing up among them like line-of-battle ships among a lot of cock-boats. All made a picture very different from anything I had ever seen or dreamed of.

We soon reached Mr. Macarthy’s factory, and went up a flight of stairs into a wide veranda, where we found him dressed in a cool white suit, and employed in giving orders to some of his clerks, whom he dismissed as soon as he saw us.

“Good morning, Captain Baldwin; is this one of your sons?”

My father answered his salutation, and then asked him if he had any news of Pentlea.

“Not yet,” he said. “I have sent men to try to find out if they could get any news of him up at Souza’s factory, where he has gone; but they are a regular set of bad ones there, and would say anything. Why, not long ago they attacked my factory, and I had some trouble in beating them off; the caboceers have condemned them to pay me five puncheons of palm-oil, but I shall never get any of it. I have sent to the caboceers, and one will come here in the course of the day. Have you reported the case to the man-of-war?”

“Why no; what can they do?”

“Certainly they can’t land men to hunt for the thief; but the captain and some of his officers might perhaps be present at the palaver between you and the caboceer. It would make them promise more and ask less, though whether they will do any more I can’t say.”

“Very well; I will write a letter and send it off. What is the name of the captain and his ship?”

“She’s the Rover, and her captain’s name is Howard.”

“Very well; let me have paper, pen, and ink, and I will write at once, and Frank here shall take it off.”

“Why not go yourself?”

“I don’t want to lose a chance, and perhaps the caboceer may come while I am away.”

“Very good; only mind to apologize for not coming in person.”

“Certainly I will, and say the reason.”

The letter was soon finished, and Fore-topsail was ordered to take me off with it to H.M. brig Rover, sixteen guns.

I found going off against a surf a very different matter from landing through one, and though it is much safer, it is a far harder piece of work. There was none of the pleasurable sensation of flying along on the back of a wave that I had enjoyed so much in going ashore.

We got through without anything worse occurring than shipping a little water, and we were soon alongside of the Rover.

A sentry at the gangway hailed to know what I wanted, and when I answered that I had a letter for the captain, he told me to be sharp and come up with it, while a couple of man-ropes were paid down the side for my use. Seizing hold of them I ran up the side, and not forgetting, as I had been told, to touch my cap, I came on the quarter-deck.

I was astonished to see the cleanliness and neatness of everything, but had not much time to indulge my wonder, for a midshipman came to me and asked me what I wanted. I answered that I had brought a letter for the captain.

“Give it to me then,” he said, and taking it from me, and going up to an officer, who was walking on the starboard side of the quarter-deck, he touched his cap and gave it to him.

I thought at first that this was the captain; but he went down the after-ladder with it, and returned immediately, closely followed by Captain Howard, who was saluted by every one as he came on deck.

“Here, youngster,” Captain Howard called to me, “you come from the Petrel? Why didn’t your captain come on board himself?”

“Please, sir,” I answered, “I think my father wanted to find out all he could.”

“Oh, you’re the captain’s son, are you? Well, can you tell me what you know about this deserter—what’s his name—Pentlea?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Hammond the mate broke his leg, and Mr. Pentlea was shipped the evening before we sailed; and we none of us liked him, and he talks Spanish.”

“Talks Spanish, does he? How do you know that?”

“Why, sir, a Spaniard called Camacho came on board from a slaver at Cape Mount, and he knew him and spoke to him.”

“Indeed; and now he has stolen money and some bales of goods and gone to Souza’s factory. Very well.—Quartermaster, tell the first lieutenant I want him.”

The first lieutenant came at once, and Captain Howard said, “Here, Stannard, there’s that fellow Camacho up at Cape Mount, and we’re looking for him down here.—What craft had he, youngster?”

“There were two schooners, sir—the Santa Maria and Santiago!”

“Two! And what did you have to do with them?”

“They made us sell them some stores, sir.”

“Were the schooners full of slaves?”

“I don’t know, sir; I couldn’t see any.”

“Were their sides clean or dirty?”

“Oh, beautifully clean, sir. I thought they looked like yachts.”

“That’ll do; they hadn’t shipped them.—Stannard, I’ll go on shore and see what I can do for Captain Baldwin, and you get everything ready for sea. Hoist the boats up and heave short. I’ll go on shore in this youngster’s boat. Send to my clerk, Mr. Smith, that he’s to come with me.—Quartermaster, get my sword and waterproof.”

In almost less time than I can write we were in the surf-boat and paddling ashore; while on board the Rover the men were busy putting on chafing-mats, uncovering sails, and reeving anchor gear.

“I hope we shall meet that fellow Camacho; he has played us one or two smart tricks—eh, Mr. Smith?” said Captain Howard.

“Yes, sir, indeed he has,” answered the clerk, who did not at all relish the passage through the surf.

We were soon safe on shore, and made our way at once to Mr. Macarthy’s factory. We found Mr. Macarthy and my father waiting for us with some anxiety, as a message had come that the caboceer in charge of the beach was coming at once to make a palaver about Pentlea’s desertion and theft.

A large room on the ground floor of the factory was prepared at once, in which Captain Howard sat with my father and Mr. Macarthy on either hand, while Mr. Smith and myself sat behind them at a small table to take down any notes that it might be deemed advisable to make.

A sound of tom-toms, bells, and firing of guns announced the approach of the great man, who alighted from the litter in which he was carried, and coming into the room followed by his interpreter, umbrella-bearer, and some half-dozen men bearing swords of office, with hilts covered with gold, sat down opposite to Captain Howard.

The caboceer was dressed in an elaborately laced uniform coat, and had on his head a footman’s hat, with a gold band and cockade further adorned by a bunch of cock’s feathers. Round his waist was a handsome silk cloth, in which were stuck a couple of brace of silver-mounted pistols; and his legs were so covered with beads and bangles that he could hardly walk. Mr. Smith whispered to me that the most precious portion of all his dress or ornaments was a string of aggry beads which he wore round his neck.

Captain Howard, as soon as the ordinary and necessary compliments had passed, accompanied by the indispensable drinks of liquors and gin, without which no business can be transacted on the coast, opened the palaver, and told the caboceer that as his master, the King of Dahomey, was a friend of the Queen of England, it was his duty to give up all criminals escaping into his country, and shortly demanded that the caboceer should send at once to Souza’s factory and bring Pentlea down to us.

The caboceer made many excuses, and said that Souza was the subject of a friend of the king’s also, and that he could not go into his factory.

Captain Howard insisted, and at last, after a somewhat stormy discussion, the caboceer promised that if Pentlea could be found he would be brought down to us.

Drinks were again handed round, and the caboceer took his departure.

When he had gone Captain Howard said, “Well, gentlemen, I do not know that I can do much more for you. I must go at once to look after those schooners you met at Cape Mount; but in a day or two the Dragon, a paddle-wheel steamer, will be here, and her captain will take up your case. I should very much like to see this fellow Pentlea, for I believe he must be a man who is pretty well known and more wanted; for if he be the man I think, he has been a pirate as well as a slaver, and deserves hanging if ever a man did.”

I here spoke of the manuscript books which the steward had found in Pentlea s berth, and my father handed them to Captain Howard, who, looking over them, said, “It is even as I thought. If I could see my way, I would land my men and get him out of Souza’s factory dead or alive; but my orders are so strict that I dare not do it. Captain Baldwin, you will have to keep a good look-out, for he will not scruple to make himself master of your brig if he sees a chance. You can trust the remainder of your crew?”

“I believe so, Captain Howard; they are all Bristol men, and I have known them for a long time.”

“That’s all right; but mind you keep a good watch for any of those slavers, especially Senhor Camacho. He would do no harm to any one off Caillaud’s place, for the Frenchman, though a slaver, has his ideas of honour and honesty. If Camacho and this Pentlea, who is half a Spaniard, get together, there will be a couple of the greatest scoundrels unhung in company. Now I must be off; you will let your boat put me on board?”

“Certainly, sir. I’m much obliged to you for coming.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve seen you. Mind when the Dragon comes in you go and see Captain Thompson. He will do what he can to make the caboceer move in this business.”

Captain Howard went off, and Mr. Macarthy and my father were soon busy about trade, while I was sent under the charge of a native clerk to have a look round the town.

I was much astonished at seeing some women walking about armed with muskets and great curved knives, and still more so when I was told that they were a part of the regular forces of the king of Dahomey, whose most trusted troops were women formed into regiments.

Another curious thing which the clerk took me to see was the house where the sacred snakes were kept. Here, in a hut standing in the middle of a courtyard, I saw hundreds of snakes, nearly if not all being a species of python, which seemed quite tame, and allowed themselves to be handled by the attendant priests with impunity. The priests had to be given rum for allowing us to look at their charges, and we had to buy fowls to throw to the snakes.

As it chanced, one of these fowls was a white cock with red hackles and tail feathers, and it was seized upon by the biggest of the snakes.

As soon as one of the priests saw this he ran at me and smeared a great stripe of some noisome compound down my face. I was about to shove him away and wipe the nasty stuff off, when my guide begged me to be quiet, for if we did anything to offend the fetichmen our lives would be forfeited. I remained as quiet as I could. Two more of the priests caught hold of my hands and began examining them; while the first pulled open my shirt, and seeing a mole on my breast pointed to it, and began chattering away in a most excited manner to his companions.

I asked the clerk what all this meant, and he said he could not tell, but that it was evidently nothing bad for me. After a time my tormentors, for so I deemed them, became quiet, and my companion managed to make out from them that I was a great fetichman, and that I would go far and see many things, and that

A YOUNG DAHOMAN.

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