For some days the work of shipping slaves went on. They were brought off in driblets of some half-dozen at a time, and stowed away under the superintendence of the two Yankee mates, the Spaniard and Pentlea being rarely seen on board. At last one evening I heard the two mates talking together and saying the Petrel was in another mouth of the river about ten miles distant, and Pentlea and Camacho had persuaded Okopa to send messengers to my father to say that he had lots of cargo for him, and that he had better bring his brig round and anchor off his town, which was about a mile farther up the stream than the creek where the two schooners were concealed. I heard the one called Silas say, “It’s a black murdering shame, so I say, to steal the man’s brig and put him ashore here where he’s just sartain to die.” “How so?” answered the other. “Can’t he live the same as Camacho and Pentlea live ashore?” “That’s another guess kind of matter. Camacho has “Waal, Silas, you don’t seem to care for this hyar job; no more do I. But what can we do?” “Do, Rube?—nought. If we says a word again Pentlea or Camacho they’ve their bowies and pistols ready, and our answer from them wouldn’t be long a-coming.” “Say, Silas, I’ve a plan. We can hinder the job, I reckon, and nary one be the wiser.” “How so? Tell me at once.” “Why, that boy, he ain’t no fool, for all he’s so tarnal quiet. Now, what time the brig comes up we’ll jest let him hook it.” “How now? he can’t swim ashore. There’s as many alligators here as are in a bayou in Florida; and when he gets to land he can’t pass the village, and through the swamps no mortal man could pass.” “Sure, man, I ain’t quite a fool. But s’pose the brig comes up on the flood to-morrow about six bells in the forenoon watch. Camacho can do nothin’ that day, and the lad may make tracks in a canoe, say at two bells in the first watch; and I guess we can manage that.” “So, p’raps; but I guess we must be spry, or that fellow Sour Simon and his pal Camacho, if they only has the leastest thought we has done ought in the matter, I guess they’ll give us a passage overboard. “Maybe; but I don’t care to be pirate, mate. If you ain’t got grit to go through with it, I’ll do it myself; for my dander’s riz, and I’ll get the lad aboard the Petrel.” “I’m with you. Don’t say I ain’t got grit; but jest keep a close luff, and don’t let nary a man know.” “All right, mate. Let’s go down and have a hand at euchre.” I was overjoyed to have heard the above conversation, and could scarcely believe that it was true. Could they have been talking in order to test me? But no; what was the use of their doing that? and how could I be more thoroughly in the power of Camacho and Pentlea than I was now? I walked up and down the deck of the schooner as happy as if I were already free; and when a shout from the cabin told me that I was wanted, I ran there as readily as when at school I had run to get my bat and ball for a game at cricket. Just as I was going down the ladder, however, I heard the sound of oars, and a boat with Camacho and Pentlea in it came alongside, and I had to run and attend the side for them, while Silas and Reuben came up on deck to receive them. All four went down into the cabin together, and as soon as I thought it would be safe I crept aft and lay down alongside of the skylight to try to overhear what they were talking about. I had, however, only just got into my place when a mulatto servant of Camacho called Pedro noticed I obeyed, and though I waited for hours I could get no chance to approach either of the American mates, for Camacho and Pentlea remained on board all night, and did not leave until after nine in the morning. Before they left, though the topmasts and upper yards were not sent up, the schooners were got ready for getting under way with their lower sails, and branches of trees were lashed to the lower mast-heads so as to prevent all chance of their being seen from the upper yards of any vessel passing up the river. When they had gone ashore I had to take breakfast into the cabin for Silas and Reuben, and as I brought it down I looked anxiously at them in the hope that they would speak to me. But not one word did they say, and I at last summoned up courage to say, “Is there a ship coming to-day?” They both started and said, “What business is that of yours, younker? Don’t bother yourself about what don’t concern you.” Just after this Camacho’s mulatto servant came down the ladder, having evidently been left on board to keep a watch on their actions. As soon as he entered the cabin he told me to go on deck, and that he would attend to the wants of the senhors. I went and sat down under the lee of the forecastle bulwarks, and soon I noticed that the schooners were swinging to the flood-tide; and looking up overhead I could see that the sea- I clambered up the fore side of the foremast so as to keep out of the sight of the mulatto, and managed to seat myself on the collar of the forestay, partially sheltered by the branches which had been lashed to the mast-head. After some time I saw the white royals and top-gallant sails of a large brig above the trees. Was it the Petrel? I looked long and earnestly, trying to make out the flag which flew at the main-royal mast-head, to see if it was my father’s; but the royal interfered. It was not until she was nearly abreast of us that, the royals being taken in, I made out the black with a red diamond; and as she was not more than five hundred yards away, I could recognize the men on the royal-yards furling the sails. A sudden impulse seized me, and I pulled out my knife and began cutting the lashings of the branches, so that the men might see the mast-head of the schooner; and ripping away, the branches fell sideways, so that it stood out clear, and I climbed up and stood on the lower cap, waving my arms to attract attention. The royals were furled, and the men laid in and commenced to go down from aloft without noticing me. I began to fear that I had committed a foolhardy action without reaping any benefit from it, when, to my joy, the flag at the main-royal mast-head of the brig got caught in an eddy wind and fouled the signal halyards, and I Just as this was occurring I heard Silas on deck shouting out, “Come down out o’ that, you young rascal. What in thunder are you doing there?” I kneeled down on the cap and commenced to descend, giving a last wave of my hand as I did so, and getting on the peak halyards was sliding down as fast as I could, when a bullet whizzed past my head and struck the mast about a foot above me. I did not look round to see to whom I was indebted for this compliment, but almost let go the rope, and reached the deck quicker than I had thought possible, and rolled on my back at the foot of the foremast. When I got on my feet I was seized by Silas, who administered to me a sound rope’s-ending, during the administration of which I saw the mulatto steward standing aft with a smoking musket in his hand, so that to him evidently I owed my thanks for the attempt on my life which had been so nearly successful. He now came forward and said something to Silas, of which I could not understand the meaning; but its purport was soon explained to me when a set of slave-irons was brought up and I was fastened to a ring-bolt in the deck. Silas put them on me himself, and took the occasion to whisper in my ear, “Ye doddered young fool, you’ll spile all. Jest keep quiet now. The irons ain’t locked; and to-night at three bells in the first watch there’ll be a canoe under the starboard fore-chains. You’ll hear me and Rube having a bit of a fight over our cards, and then you fly at once.” And giving me a smack on the side of the head, and saying, “Yer won’t be in a hurry to go to the mast-head again, I reckon, you young skunk,” left me to my meditations. Though I was sore and bruised I had hopes of escape, and I also felt sure that my friends on board the brig knew where I was; and I was happier than I had been for many a long day, and looked forward eagerly for the time when I might make my dash for liberty. The mulatto brought me some biscuit and a gourd of water. As I was about to put the latter to my lips I caught sight of Silas frowning at me, and dropped it on the deck; and Silas sung out, “If the young whelp is careless, let him go thirsty. |