Ran Away to Sea

Chapter Thirteen

The chase, which had lasted for nearly the whole of a day, carried the Pandora a hundred miles out of her course before she had fairly distanced the cutter; but she had to run still fifty miles further to make sure that the latter had lost sight of her, and, of course, abandoned the pursuit. The last part of the run, however, was made in a direction diagonal to that in which she had been chased; and as the morning broke, and there were no signs of the cutter nor any other sail, the slaver once more headed in for the coast. She was now so far to the south of the line on which she had encountered the cruiser, that, whether the latter kept on in the pursuit, or returned as she had come, in either case she would be too distant from the barque to make her out. The darkness of the night had also favoured the slaver’s escape, and, when morning came, her commander felt quite sure that the cutter was cruising far to the north of him, and beyond the range of the most powerful telescope.

The deviation which the Pandora had made from her course did not signify much to such a light sailer as she. She soon made up the loss; for next day the wind had veered round so as to answer for her course; and, as it blew but lightly, she was able to go under studding-sails, at the rate of ten and twelve knots an hour.

She was now heading directly for the African coast, and, before the sun had set, my eyes rested on the land – that land so long famous, or rather infamous, for its commerce in human beings – for the hunt, and the barter, and sale of men, women, and children!

During the night the barque stood off and on at several miles’ distance from the shore, and with the earliest light of morning ran close in.

There was no port nor town. Not even a house was in sight. The land was low, scarce rising above the sea-level, and appeared to be covered with a dense forest to the water’s edge. There was neither buoy nor beacon to direct the course of the vessel, but, for all that, the captain knew very well where he was steering to. It was not his first slaving expedition to the coast of Africa nor yet to the very port he was now heading for. He knew well where he was going; and, although the country appeared to be quite wild and uninhabited, he knew that there were people who expected him not far off.

One might have fancied that the Pandora was about to be run ashore, for, until she was within a few cables’ length of the beach, neither bay, nor landing-place presented itself to our view, and no orders had been given to drop anchor. It is true that most of her sails had been hauled down, and she was moving but slowly through the water, but still fast enough to strike with violence if permitted to approach much nearer.

Several of the crew, who were on their first voyage to this coast, began to express their surprise; but they were laughed at by the older hands who had been there before.

All at once the surprise was over. A little wooded point was rounded, and the line of the beach – which but the moment before had appeared continuous – was now seen to be broken by a long, narrow reach of water, that ran far back into the land. It proved to be the mouth of a small but deep river; and, without reconnoissance or hesitation, the barque entered across its bar, and, standing up stream, came to anchor about a mile inland from the sea.

Opposite to where we had anchored I could perceive a strangely-built hut standing near the bank, and another and larger one further back, and partially screened by the trees. In front of the former, and close to the water’s edge, was a group of dark-looking men, making some signals which were answered by the mate of the Pandora. Other men were down in a long canoe that was riding upon the water, and some were getting into it, as if about to be rowed out to us.

I saw the palms upon the bank – they were the first trees of this kind I had ever seen growing, but I easily recognised them by the pictures I had seen in books. There were other large trees, not less singular in their appearance, and differing altogether from the kinds I had been accustomed to look upon at home; but my attention was soon drawn from the trees by observing that the men in the canoe had parted from the shore and were paddling towards us.

The river was not over two hundred yards in width, and as the barque was anchored about midway, of course the canoe had not far to come. In a few seconds it was alongside, and I had a fair and full view of its dusky rowers.

As I regarded them the reflection passed through my mind, that if these were a fair specimen of their countrymen, the less acquaintance with them the better; and I could now comprehend the remark of Brace, that to desert from the ship on the African coast would be sheer madness. “Bad,” said he, “as are these fellows on board the Pandy, still they have white skins and something human about them; but as for the rascals we are to meet over yonder they are devils, both soul and body – you shall see ’em, my boy, and judge for yourself.” These remarks my patron had made some days before, when we were talking of our intention to escape; and as I looked into that long canoe, and scanned the faces of the half-score of men that sat within it, I was forcibly struck with the truthfulness of the assertion. A more ferocious set of men I never looked upon – very devils did they appear!

There were eleven of them in all, and most of them were as black as shoe-leather, though there was a variety of colour, from jet-black to a bad tawny-yellow. It was evident they were not all of one race, for there is scarcely any part of the western coast of Africa where there is not an admixture of different races, – arising, no doubt, from the long-continued slave-traffic between the coast and the interior. If these eleven gentlemen differed slightly in colour, there were other points in which they differed not at all. All of them had thick lips, beetle-brows, short kinky wool upon their heads, and the most ferocious and brutal expression upon their faces. Eight out of the eleven were naked as at the hour of their birth, with the exception of a narrow swathing of cotton cloth around their hips and thighs. These eight used the paddles, and I could perceive that they had spears and old muskets in the boat beside them. The other three were of superior class. Two of them were better clad than the eight rowers – but no better looking – while the third presented to the eye an aspect at once so hideously tierce, and yet so ludicrous, that it was difficult to determine whether you ought to laugh at or to fear him.

This man was a true negro, – black as gun powder, gross as a water-butt, and of enormous dimensions. His face was not so negrofied (if I may use the word) as some of his companions’, but it had a still worse expression than that of the very thick-lipped kind, for it was not stupid like theirs. On the contrary, it exhibited a mixture of ferocity with a large share of cunning – a countenance, in fact, full of all wickedness. It resembled a good deal the faces I have afterwards observed in India, – among the fat despotic princes that are still permitted to misrule some portions of that unhappy land, – and a large black beard, whiskers, and moustache, added to the similitude.

It was not the face, nor the great size of the man that rendered him ridiculous. Quite the contrary. A glance at these had rather an opposite tendency. What was laughable about him was his costume; and if he had been done up for a farce upon the stage, or a Christmas pantomime, he could not have been dressed in a more ludicrous manner. Upon his body was a uniform coat of bright-scarlet cloth, the cut and facings of which told that it had once done duty in the army of King George. It had been a sergeant’s full-dress coat, for the chevrons were still upon the cuffs, – and a stout sergeant he must have been, – one of the stoutest in the army. The coat was a large one, yet, withal, it was a tight fit for its present wearer, and did not come within a foot of buttoning upon him. The sleeves, moreover, were too short by inches, and the huge black wrists of the negro appeared in strange contrast with the bright sheen of the scarlet. Behind, the skirts forked widely apart, showing the huge buttocks of the wearer, that were covered by the tails of a striped sailor’s shirt reaching a little below; and below this again, the huge, thick, black thighs and lower limbs were naked to the toes.

An old cocked-hat with faded lace and feathers, that no doubt had once graced the head of some admiral or commodore, sat high upon the woolly crown of her new acquaintance, and completed the absurd tout ensemble. There was a long knife stuck in his belt, and a large crooked sabre dangling between his limbs.

It would have been laughable enough – such a singular apparition under other circumstances – but I perceived on the part of the Pandora’s crew no disposition to laugh. A strict order from the captain had been issued against such behaviour; and enjoining all on board to receive “His Majesty King Dingo Bingo” with all courtesy and respect.

So, then he of the tight coat and cocked-hat was a king – King “Dingo Bingo!” The two that were partially clad were his councillors, and the eight black canoe-men a portion of his bodyguard.

I did not make all these observations while the new comers were in the canoe. There had been no time for that. The moment they approached the side of the barque, ropes had been thrown to them, and the canoe was hauled close up. A ladder had already been let over the gangway, and up this “His Majesty” climbed, and was received on board with all the honours.

Joyful salutes passed between him and his well-known acquaintance, the captain; and, without more ado, the latter led the way across the quarter-deck, and conducted his majesty to the cabin with apparent formality, but yet in a frank and jovial manner that proved the two to be old friends – the best friends in the world.

The mate did his best to entertain the two “Councillors of State,” while the men of the bodyguard remained below in the canoe. His majesty had no fear for his personal safety. He knew the slaver and her master. He had been expecting them, and therefore needed to ask no questions about country or character. The skipper and the king understood each other.

Chapter Fourteen

I could not tell what was said between these two worthies, but I knew what was to be done. His majesty had a crowd of poor negroes not far off – no doubt shut up in the large building which could be partially seen through the trees. These he had procured from some back country in the interior – partly by traffic with other king-monsters like himself, and partly by means of man-hunting expeditions, which he had made with his ferocious troops. It was highly probable, too, that among the victims about to be transported were many who had been his own subjects; for these African potentates do not scruple to make merchandise of their own people, when cash or “cowries” run short, and their enemies have been too strong to be captured.

Just such a crowd then had King Dingo Bingo got together; and the joyful smile that lighted up the jovial face of the skipper, as he reappeared upon deck, proved that it was a large crowd, and that he was sure of a full “cargo” without further trouble or delay. Often competition among the slave-vessels renders it difficult to obtain a full “freight;” and in such cases the white slave-dealers, who dwell upon the coast (for there are many such), and the native chiefs become terribly exacting. Then indeed, the first cost of the human merchandise forms an important item in the invoice, and the profits on the other side are proportionately diminished; but where there is no competition the price of the black is considered a mere trifle; and, taken in “barter” as he is, a whole ship’s load of such “bales,” as they are jocularly called among slavers (by the Spaniards termed “bultos”), is not such an expensive investment. The purchase of the vessel, the wages and keep of the crew (necessarily a large one), are the main items of outlay in the books of a slaver. As for the food of the living cargo, that counts for little. It is of the simplest and coarsest kind that can be procured, and usually consists of two staple articles; the African millet – known more commonly as a species of sago – and palm-oil. Both are easily obtained on any part of the western coast where the slave-trade exists; for there both these articles form the common food of the country. The millet is a well-known grain; but there are many sorts of grain in different parts of the world which go under this name, and yet are obtained from plants that are very distinct in character. As for the palm-oil, it is at present one of the most important items of African commerce, and thousands of tons of it are annually imported into England and France, where it is used in the manufacture of yellow soap. It is extracted from the nut of a large palm-tree, whole forests of which may be seen in the western countries of tropical Africa, with the fallen nuts lying scattered over the ground as thick as pebbles; and, up to a late period, scarce cared for by the native inhabitants. The demand for palm-oil, however, has of late years stimulated even the indolent negroes to the manufacture of the article, and these immense palm-orchards are now carefully preserved, and their fruit gathered at the proper season.

It is the pulpy covering of the nut that yields the oil, which becomes hard as soon as it cools – so hard that it requires to be cut with a knife, or scooped out by some sharp instrument. In this state it is used by the negroes just as we use butter, and forms a staple article of their daily diet.

Since both the millet-sago and the palm-butter can be purchased in Africa cheaper than any other food, of course these are shipped on board the slave-vessels for the consumption of the unfortunate captives, and beyond these no other food is thought of. Water alone is their drink, and to provide this, the hold of a slave-ship is usually crammed with large casks, as was the case with the Pandora. These casks serve as ballast on the return-trip, when the vessel is without her freight, and then they are kept full – generally with salt-water, as this in most ports is more conveniently got at; and on the coast of Africa, as the place of embarkation is usually a river, the salt-water is easily emptied out and fresh substituted. With these explanations I shall now return to our skipper and his royal guest.

It was plain that the former was in excellent humour. He had King Dingo Bingo all to himself, and was promised a full cargo. His majesty seemed not less pleased with the interview. He came forth out of the cabin staggering with partial intoxication, clutching in one hand a half-empty bottle of rum, while in the other he held various glittering trinkets and pieces of gaudy wearing apparel, which he had just received as presents from the captain. He swaggered about the deck, once or twice tripping upon his long steel scabbard. He talked in loud praise of his warlike achievements, boasting of the many villages he had sacked, of the captives he had made, and ever reminding his host of the fine cargo he had collected for him. There were five hundred of them, “young and strong.” They were shut up safely in the “barracoon,” – such was the name of the large building – and to-morrow, that day, or whenever the captain was ready, he would deliver them over. So promised the king.

Of course the captain was not quite ready. His majesty’s “plunder” had to be got out of the hold, and boated ashore; the water casks had to be emptied – for it was sea-water they contained – and then refilled from the river; and these things done the barque would then take on board her five hundred “bultos.”

After a good deal more swaggering and swearing – for this African royalty could speak a little English, and knew most of its most blackguard phrases – his sable majesty once more betook himself to his boat, and was rowed back to the bank. The captain, taking his mate and some half-dozen of the sailors along with him, followed soon after in the gig to complete the debauch – for King Dingo Bingo had invited him to a royal entertainment in his timber palace upon the shore.

I looked after with longing eyes – not that I had any desire to be, of their company – far from it, indeed – but gazing upon the beautiful forms of vegetation that adorned the banks of this savage river, listening to the sweet music that came from a thousand bright-plumed songsters amid the woods, I longed once more to set my feet upon the firm earth; I longed to be alone, to wander alone and free, away under the shadow of those majestic trees.

Chapter Fifteen

It is very probable I should have longed in vain – very probable I should not have been allowed to set foot upon the shore, but for my protector Brace. My work was still that of the swab and mop, and shoe-brush, and I was kept closely employed at such “chores” from morning to night. The others were permitted to go ashore almost at their pleasure – except during their working-hours, and then they were back and forward several times in the day, unloading the cargo of rum, and salt, and iron, that was forthwith delivered up to King Dingo Bingo.

I endeavoured several times to go with them in the boat, but was always repulsed by some one, usually by the mate or captain himself.

Every day as the sun rose over the glistening tree-tops, tinging their rich verdure with hues of gold, I sighed for liberty, and I would have given aught I possessed, to have been allowed to roam freely through those bright woods. Only one who has been for months cooped up within the confined boundaries of a ship, until tired to death of its monotonous life, can have any idea of the intense longings that I experienced. I was even worse off than one who may have been thus situated. I was not only cooped up but ill-treated. I was not only a prisoner, but a slave, harshly used, and thoroughly disgusted both with my master and associates. If but for a single hour, therefore, I would have made any sacrifice to have been permitted to take a stroll in yonder wild woods, that on both sides of the river stretched away as far as the eye could reach, for I had viewed them from the royal-mast-head, and saw that they were interminable.

I cannot tell why the captain and mate were so opposed to my going ashore. It might be that they were suspicious of me, and feared I might run away from the ship. Knowing the harsh treatment to which they were in the habit of submitting me, it is not strange they should suspect me of such an intention. My position could hardly be worse, even among savages; and, therefore, it was natural enough they should have their fears of my leaving them.

They had no desire to part with me on such terms. I had proved of great service to them in the capacity of cabin-boy and attendant; and they found my services very convenient. Though they would have cared little for drowning me, or knocking me on the head, to gratify a whim of their own, they would have been sadly grieved had I succeeded in running away from them; and, evidently suspecting that I might harbour such an intention, they took care that I should not have the slightest opportunity of carrying it out. I was not permitted, therefore, to set my foot in any of the boats that were constantly going and coming between the ship and the shore.

There was one other of the Pandora’s crew who was dealt with in a similar manner, and this was poor “Dutchy”, as the sailors called him. They might well suspect him of a design to run away. Bad as was the treatment I received, it was humane and civil when compared with the almost continuous cruelty practised upon the Dutchman; and instinct itself should have prompted him to flee from it at the very first opportunity that offered.

Unfortunately, instinct had this very effect; or rather, I might say, human flesh and blood could stand it no longer; and Dutchy determined to desert. I say unfortunately, for the attempt proved a failure, and had an awful termination. It ended in the death of this poor sailor – a death that was hideous and appalling.

I shall relate the incident in a few words: —

A few days after coming to anchor Dutchy had communicated to me his intention of deserting from the ship. He had made me his confidant, in hopes that I might join him in the enterprise – for the poor fellow knew there was not another on board who had ever spoken to him a word of sympathy. This I had done, and, consequently, had won his regard. He knew, moreover, that I, too was a persecuted victim; and, therefore, believed I might be as willing as himself to get away beyond the reach of the common tyrant. It is true I was so, but the advice of my patron Brace had rendered me content to wait for a better opportunity – to wait for our arrival upon the other side of the Atlantic. I had made up my mind to endure till then; knowing that a voyage from the west coast of Africa to the Brazils, the destination of the Pandora, would be but a few weeks in duration, and confident, from what Brace had promised me, that there I should part from the hated crew.