Chapter 32 - Ran Away to Sea by Mayne Reid
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.