Chapter 45 - Ran Away to Sea by Mayne Reid
During all these deliberations not one word was said about the five hundred unfortunate wretches between decks! It is a question whether even a thought was spent upon them, except by myself, perhaps by Ben Brace, and most likely the captain of the Pandora. But if the skipper thought of them, it was from no motives of humanity. Profit and loss were the only considerations that had any interest for him, and if he was thinking of the poor creatures with regret, it was not any regret for the horrid fate they were likely to meet with, but solely on account of the pecuniary loss he would sustain by their destruction!
I feel certain that, up to the moment when their future plans had been fully discussed and agreed upon, not one of that reckless crew had given thought to the situation of the blacks. Had these human beings been so many head of cattle, they could not have entered less into the calculations that had been made; for they were not considered at all. Not one drop of water had been apportioned to their use. No suggestion of such a thing had been afforded—it would have been ridiculed as preposterous.
It was only after everything had been settled, that mention was made of them. Then a rough fellow cried out, in a tone of mock surprise, that smacked of a disgusting levity:—
“Thunder an’ ’oun’s! what’s to be done with the niggers!”
“Ay, ay,” shouted several, in a breath; “what is to be done with ’em? There’s no water for them—that’s sartin.”
“Why, what can be done?” responded an inhuman monster. “Chuck ’em overboard!”
“Dunder an’ blitz!” exclaimed a ferocious German, who appeared pleased with the idea; “dhat is de besht blan—wees not can do petter dhan to glear ’em out from de sheep.”
“Pe Gar!” cried the Frenchman, Le Gros, “it be von great big drown—von grand splash in ze vater—Sacr-r-r-é!”
I cannot describe the feelings I had in listening to this conversation. These men were actually serious, and yet jesting. It is almost too horrid to be credible, and yet it is true!
But they were serious—I knew they were—and I expected every minute to hear that this horrible suggestion was adopted, and that the blacks were to be thrown overboard!
But the villains were not unanimous; and for a length of time they continued to discuss the question in the same half-serious, half-jocular way. It was awful to listen to that inhuman debate!
The slave-captain’s wishes, however, were opposed to throwing his cargo overboard; and, notwithstanding the mutinous disposition of the men, he had still authority enough to carry the point. He was obliged however, to humiliate himself by resorting to argument. His speech was characteristic; and throughout the whole of it, there was not one word about humanity.
He alleged that the niggers could only die, anyhow, and a few days could make no difference to them. Neither could it signify to them (the crew) whether the blacks died of thirst or by drowning. They could throw them overboard, after the breath was out of them, all the same. But some of them might live it out. He had known niggers to stand it a long while without water—they could hold out much longer than white men—for in this respect they resembled the ostriches, camels, and other animals of their own country, that could go for whole weeks without drinking! No doubt many of them would die, and therefore be lost to him; but they would not die if they could help it, and there were still the chances that a good many would stick it out (these were the captain’s words) till they had made land, or overhauled some vessel; and though they might be pretty far gone (another phrase of the speaker), a drink of water would set their stomachs all right again. So ran the ruffian speech.
He further proceeded to point out to his audience the destitute condition that he and they would be in, should they reach the Brazilian coast without a cargo. There would be no bounty—no spending-money—nothing; whereas, if they could only get there with even a portion of the negroes alive—even one out of five (a hundred out of the whole lot)—there would still be a large sum realised; and he promised that he would be liberal to all hands.
It was absurd, therefore, to talk of flinging the cargo overboard. They could do no harm as they were; there could arise no danger, since they would keep the blacks securely under hatches; and, therefore, in every way it was better to let these hold out as long as they could, and take chance of bringing some of them to a market. Such was the skipper’s speech; and I have followed his phraseology as nearly as I remember it. It was an awful harangue, and my heart sickened within me as I listened to it.
Meanwhile, the ill-starred victims who were the subject of these deliberations were, happily for themselves, still ignorant of the horrid fate with which they were threatened. A few of them, whose gaunt faces looked up through the grating, may have noticed that something was amiss; but, ignorant both of the language and ways of their tyrant gaolers, they could not possibly have known the danger in which their lives were now placed.
Alas! alas! they would soon learn—too soon. Soon would they experience the agony of thirst; soon would they feel its horrid cravings.
Even at that moment was it drawing upon them; even then were they crying for water—for, in consequence of the discovery that had been made, their morning’s allowance had not yet been served to them; and water was always the thing they seemed most to covet and desire. Its scarcity was to them their greatest grief. Even at that moment, as I passed the hatchway, I could hear them calling for “water—water,” some in their native tongue, and others—in hopes of being better understood—in that language best-known along the African Coast—the Portuguese—repeating the word:—
“Agoa—agoa!”