Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop

“Slipped out then because your boss began saying slaver, I suppose. That was your word and I give it to yew back again. I want to live peaceable like on my plantation and make my dollahs out of that there elastic and far-stretching projuice of the injyrubbery trees. That’s my business, misters, and I’m not going to take away any man’s crackter.”

“You have given me the clue I want, sir,” said the lieutenant, “and it is of no use for you to shirk any longer from telling me the plain truth about what is going on up this river or creek.”

“Oh, isn’t it, mister officer? Perhaps I know my business better than you can tell me. I dessay yew’re a very smart officer, but I could give you fits over growing rubber, and I’m not going to interfere with my neighbours who may carry on a elastic trade of their own in black rubber or they may not. ’Tain’t my business. As I said afore, or was going to say afore when this here young shaver as hain’t begun to shave yet put his oar in and stopped me, how should I look when yew’d gone and that half-breed black and yaller Portygee schooner skipper comes back with three or four boat-loads of his cut-throats and says to me in his bad language that ain’t nayther English, ’Murrican, nor nothing else but hashed swearing, ‘Look here,’ he says, ‘won’t injyrubber burn like fire, eh?’ ‘Yes,’ I says, civil and smooth, ‘it is rayther rum-combustible.’ ‘So I thought,’ he says. ‘Well, you’ve been letting that tongue of yours go running along and showing those cusses of Britishers where I anchor my boat and load up with plantation stuff for the West Injies; so jes’ look here,’ he sez, ‘I’ve lost thousands o’ dollars threw yew, and so I’m just going to make yew pay for it by burning up your plantations and putting a stop to your trade, same as yew’ve put a stop to mine. I shan’t hurt yew, because I’m a kind-hearted gentle sorter man, but I can’t answer for my crew. I can’t pay them, because yew’ve took my ship and my marchandise, so I shall tell them they must take it outer yew. And they will, stranger. I don’t say as they’ll use their knives over the job, and I don’t say as they won’t, but what I do say is that I shouldn’t like to be yew.’ There, Mister Officer, that’s about what’s the matter with me, and now yew understand why I don’t keer about meddling with my neighbours’ business.”

“Yes, I understand perfectly,” said the lieutenant, “but I want you to see that it is your duty to help to put a stop to this horrible traffic in human beings. Have you no pity for the poor blacks who are made prisoners, and are dragged away from their homes to be taken across the sea and sold like so many cattle?”

“Me? Pity! Mister, I’m full of it. I’m sorry as sorrow for the poor niggers, and whenever I know that yon schooner is loading up with black stuff I shuts my eyes and looks t’other way.”

“Indeed!” cried Murray. “And pray how do you manage to do that?”

“Why, ain’t I telling on you, youngster? I shuts my eyes so as I can’t see.”

“Then how can you look another way?”

The American displayed every tooth in his head and winked at the lieutenant.

“Yew’ve got a sharp ’un here, mister. I should keep him covered up, or shut him up somehow, ’fore he cuts anybody or himself. But yew understand what I mean, mister, and I dessay you can see now why I feel it my business to be very sorry for the black niggers, but more sorry for myself and my people. I don’t want to be knifed by a set o’ hangdog rubbish from all parts o’ the world. I’m a peaceable man, mister, but you’re a cap’en of a man-o’-war, I suppose?”

“Chief officer,” said the lieutenant.

“And what’s him?” said the American, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the midshipman. “Young chief officer?”

“Junior officer.”

“Oh, his he? Well, I tell you what: yew both go and act like men-o’-war. Sail up close to that schooner, fire your big guns, and send her to the bottom of the river.”

“And what about the poor slaves?” said Murray excitedly.

“Eh, the black stuff?” said the American, scratching his chin with his forefinger. “Oh, I forgot all about them. Rather bad for them, eh, mister?”

“Of course,” said the lieutenant. “No, sir, that will not do. I want to take the schooner, and make her captain and crew prisoners.”

“Yew’ll have to look slippery then, mister. But what about the niggers?”

“I shall take them with the vessel to Lagos or some other port where a prize court is held, and the judge will no doubt order the best to be done with them.”

“Which means put an end to the lot, eh?” said the American.

“Bah! Nonsense!” cried Murray indignantly.

“Is it, young mister? Well, I didn’t know. It ain’t my business. Yew go on and do what’s right. It’s your business. I don’t keer so long as I’m not mixed up with it. I’ve on’y got one life, and I want to take keer on it. Now we understand one another?”

“Not quite,” said the lieutenant.

“Why, what is there as yew can’t take in?”

“Nothing,” said the lieutenant. “I quite see your position, and that you do not wish to run any risks with the slaver captain and his men.”

“Not a cent’s worth if I can help it.”

“And quite right, sir,” said the lieutenant; “but I take it that you know this slaver skipper by sight?”

“Oh, yes, I know him, mister – quite as much as I want to.”

“And you know where he trades to?”

“West Injies.”

“No, no; I mean his place here.”

“Oh, you mean his barracks and sheds where the chief stores up all the black stuff for him to come and fetch away?”

“Yes, that’s it,” cried Murray excitedly.

“Have the goodness to let me conclude this important business, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant coldly.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Murray, turning scarlet; “I was so excited.”

“That’s one for you, mister young chief officer,” said the American, grinning at the midshipman, and then turning to the lieutenant. “These young uns want sitting upon a bit sometimes, eh, mister?”

“Look here, sir,” said the lieutenant, ignoring the remark; “just listen to me. I want you to guide me and my men to the foul nest of this slave-trader and the town of the black chief.”

The American shook his head.

“You need not shrink, for you will be under the protection of the English Government.”

“That’s a long way off, mister.”

“But very far-reaching, sir,” continued the lieutenant, “and I promise you full protection for all that you do. Why, surely, man, you will be able to cultivate your plantation far more peacefully and with greater satisfaction with the river cleared of this abominable traffic.”

“Well, if you put it in that way, mister, I should,” said the man, “and that’s a fine range of rich land where the black chief has his people and their huts. I could do wonders with that bit if I could hold it safely. The rubber I’d plant there would be enough to – ”

“Rub out all the black marks that the slave-trade has made.”

“Very good, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant, smiling pleasantly, “but this is no time to try and be smart.”

“Eh?” said the American. “Was that what he was aiming at? I didn’t understand; but I tell yew that there is about a mile of rich syle there which if I had I could make it projuice a fortune.”

“Look here, sir,” said the lieutenant, “I have no doubt about the possibility of your being helped by the British Government to take possession of such a tract after we have done with it.”

“Why, you don’t mean, Mister Chief Officer, that you will let your British Lion put his paw upon it and stick to it till you’ve done with it, as you say?”

“No, no, no,” said the lieutenant, smiling. “I mean that the British Lion will put its paw upon the horrible settlement in this way and will root out the traffic, and we shall only be too glad to encourage the rise of a peaceful honest culture such as you are carrying on.”

“You mean then that you’ll root out the slaves and burn the chief’s town?”

“Most certainly,” said the lieutenant. “And help me to get hold of that there land?”