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

“Why not come with us?” asked Murray.

“Ain’t I telled yer, youngster? Think I want to come back and find the schooner gone?”

The lieutenant gazed from the American to the midshipman and back again, with his doubts here and there, veering like a weather vane, for the thought would keep attacking him – suppose all this about the slave schooner was Yankee bunkum, and as soon as he had got rid of them, the lugger would sail away and be seen no more?

“You won’t trust him, will you?” said Murray, taking advantage of a puff of wind which separated the two boats for a few minutes.

“I can’t,” said the lieutenant, in a whisper. “I was nearly placing confidence in him, but your doubt has steered me in the other direction. Hah!” he added quickly. “That will prove him.” And just then the lugger glided alongside again, and the opportunity for further communing between the two officers was gone.

“That’s what yew have to be on the lookout for, mister, when yew get sailing out here. Sharp cat’s-paws o’ wind hot as fire sometimes. Well, ain’t you going to fetch your ship?”

“And what about you?” said the lieutenant.

“Me?” said the man wonderingly, and looking as innocent as a child.

“Yes; where am I to pick you up again?”

“Oh! I’ll show you. I’ll be hanging just inside one of the mouths of the river, and then lead yew in when yew get back with yewr ship.”

Murray softly pressed his foot against his officer’s without seeming to move, and felt the pressure returned, as if to say – All right; I’m not going to trust him – and the lieutenant then said aloud —

“But why shouldn’t you sail with us as far as our sloop?”

“Ah, why shouldn’t I, after all?” said the man. “You might show me your skipper, and we could talk to him about what we’re going to do. All right; sail away if you like to chance it.”

The lieutenant nodded, and a few minutes later the two boats were gliding about half a mile abreast of the dense mangrove-covered shore in the direction of the Seafowl, and only about fifty yards apart.

“You’ll be keeping a sharp lookout for treachery in any shape, sir?” said Murray, in a low tone.

“The fellow’s willingness to fall in with my proposal has disarmed me, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant quietly, “but all the same I felt bound to be cautious. I have given the marines orders to be ready to fire at the slightest sign of an attempt to get away.”

“You have, sir? Bravo!” said Murray, in the same low tone, and without seeming to be talking to his chief if they were observed. “But I did not hear you speak to the jollies.”

“No, Mr Murray; I did not mean you to, and I did not shout. But this caution is, after all, unnecessary, for there comes the sloop to look after us. Look; she is rounding that tree-covered headland.”

“Better and better, sir!” cried Murray excitedly. “I was beginning to fidget about the lugger.”

“What about her, Mr Murray?”

“Beginning to feel afraid of her slipping away as soon as we were out of sight.”

“You think, then, that the lugger’s people might be on the watch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Quite possible,” said the lieutenant. “Well, we have her safe now.”

“Yes, sir; but won’t you heave to and wait?”

“To be sure, yes, Mr Murray; a good idea; and let the sloop sail up to us?”

“Won’t it make the captain storm a bit, sir, and ask sharply why we didn’t make haste and join?”

“Most likely, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant quietly; “but if he does we have two answers.”

“The lugger, sir.”

“Yes, Mr Murray, and the discovery of the schooner.”

“Waiting to be boarded, sir,” said the midshipman.

“Exactly, Mr Murray. Any one make out the second cutter?”

“Ay, ay, sir!” cried Tom May. “There she is, sir – miles astarn of the Seafowl, sir.”

“I wish we could signal to her to lay off and on where she is.”

“What for, sir?”

“There may be one of the narrow entrances to the great river thereabouts, and the wider the space we can cover, the greater chance we shall have of preventing the slaver from stealing away.”

Chapter Four.

The Yankee’s Food

“Grand, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, after a time. But his first words had come pouring out like a storm of blame, which gave the first lieutenant no opportunity to report what he had done. “Yes: could not be better sir. There, we are going to capture a slaver at last!”

“Yes, sir, if we have luck; and to stamp out one of the strongholds of the accursed trade.”

Then the captain became silent, and stood thoughtfully looking over the side at the indiarubber planter’s lugger.

“Humph!” he ejaculated, at last. “Rather a serious risk to run, to trust to this stranger and make him our guide.”

“So it struck me, sir, as I told you,” said the lieutenant.

“Let me see, Mr Anderson, did you tell me that?”

“Yes, sir, if you will recall it.”

“Humph! Yes, I suppose you did. But I was thinking. Suppose he plays us false.”

“Why should he, sir?”

“To be sure, why should he, Mr Anderson? All the same, we must be careful.”

Meanwhile, Murray was being cross-examined by his brother midshipman, who looked out of temper, and expressed himself sourly upon coming aboard.

“You have all the luck,” he said. “You drop into all the spirited adventures, while I am packed off with prosy old Munday.”

“Oh, nonsense! It is all chance. But didn’t you see anything, old chap?”

“Yes – muddy water; dingy mangroves; the tail of a croc as the filthy reptile slid off the tree roots into the water. That was all, while there I was cooking in the heat, and listening to old Munday prose, prose, prose, till I dropped off to sleep, when the disagreeable beggar woke me up, to bully me about neglecting my duty, and told me that I should never get to be a smart officer if I took so little interest in my profession that I could not keep awake when out on duty.”

“Well, it did seem hard, Dick, when he sent you off to sleep. I couldn’t have kept awake, I know.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t. But there: bother! You couldn’t help getting all the luck.”

“No; and you are going to share it now.”

“Not so sure, Frank. As like as not the skipper will send me away in a boat to watch some hole where the slaver might slip out. So this Yankee is going to act as pilot and lead us up the river to where the schooner is hiding?”

“Yes, and to show us the chief’s town, and the place where he collects the poor unfortunate blacks ready for being shipped away to the Spanish plantations.”

“My word, it’s fine!” cried Roberts excitedly. “And hooroar, as Tom May has it. Why, the lads will be half mad with delight.”

“And enough to make them,” said Murray. “But I say, how does it strike you?”

“As being glorious. Franky, old fellow, if it wasn’t for the look of the thing I could chuck up my cap and break out into a hornpipe. Dance it without music.”

“To the delight of the men, and make Anderson or Munday say that it was not like the conduct of an officer and a gentleman.”

“Yes, that’s the worst of it. But though of course we’re men now – ”

“Midshipmen,” said Murray drily.

“Don’t sneer, old chap! And don’t interrupt when I’m talking.”

“Say on, O sage,” said the lad.

“I was going to say that of course, though we are men now, one does feel a bit of the boy sometimes, and as if it was pleasant now and then to have a good lark.” As the young fellow spoke he passed his hand thoughtfully over his cheeks and chin. “What are you grinning at?” he continued.

“Not grinning, old fellow; it was only a smile.”

“Now, none of your gammon. You were laughing at me.”

“Oh! Nothing!” said Murray, with the smile deepening at the corners of his mouth.

“There you go again!” cried Roberts. “Who’s to keep friends with you, Frank Murray, when you are always trying to pick a quarrel with a fellow?”

“What, by smiling?”

“No, by laughing at a fellow and then pretending you were not. Now then, what was it?”

“Oh, all right; I only smiled at you about your shaving so carefully this morning.”

“How did you know I shaved this morning?” cried the midshipman, flushing.

“You told me so.”

“That I’ll swear I didn’t.”

“Not with your lips, Dicky —Dick– but with your fingers.”

“Oh! Bother! I never did see such a fellow as you are to spy out things,” cried Roberts petulantly.

“Not spy, old chap. I only try to put that and that together, and I want you to do the same. So you think this is all glorious about yonder planter chap piloting us to the slaver’s place?”

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know, Dick,” said Murray, filling his forehead with wrinkles.

“Oh, I never did see such a fellow for pouring a souse of cold water down a fellow’s back,” cried Roberts passionately. “You don’t mean to say that you think he’s a fraud?”

“Can’t help thinking something of the kind, old man.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Roberts. “I say, here, tell us what makes you think so.”

“He’s too easy and ready, Dick,” said Murray, throwing off his ordinary merry ways and speaking seriously and with his face full of thought.

“But what does Anderson say to it?”

“He seemed to be suspicious once, but it all passed off, and then the skipper when he heard everything too talked as if he had his doubts. But now he treats it as if it is all right, and we are to follow this American chap wherever he leads us.”

“Yes, to-morrow morning, isn’t it?”

“No, Dick; to-night.”

“To-night – in the dark?”

“I suppose so.”

“Oh!” said Roberts thoughtfully, and he began to shave himself with his finger once more, but without provoking the faintest smile from his companion. “I say, Franky, I don’t like that.”

“No; neither do I, Dick.”

“It does seem like putting ourselves into his hands,” continued Roberts thoughtfully. “Oh, but I don’t know,” he continued, as if snatching at anything that told for the success of the expedition; “you know what Anderson often tells us.”

“I know what he says sometimes about our being thoughtless boys.”

“Yes, that’s what I mean, old fellow; and it isn’t true, for I think a deal about my duties, and as for you – you’re a beggar to think, just like the monkey who wouldn’t speak for fear he should be set to work.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” said Murray drily.

“Oh, you know what I mean. But I suppose we can’t think so well now as we shall by and by. I mean, older fellows can think better, and I suppose that the skipper and old Anderson really do know better than we do. It will be all right, old fellow. They wouldn’t let themselves be led into any trap; and besides, look at the Yankee – I mean, look at his position; he must be sharp enough.”

“Oh yes, he’s sharp enough,” said Murray. “Hear him talk, and you’d think he was brought up on pap made of boiled-down razor-strops.”

“Well, then, he must know well enough that if he did the slightest thing in the way of playing fast and loose with us, he’d get a bullet through his head.”

“Yes – if he wasn’t too sharp for us.”

“Oh, it will be all right,” cried Roberts. “Don’t be too cautious, Franky. Put your faith in your superior officers; that’s the way to succeed.”

“Then you think I am too cautious here, Dick?”

“Of course I do,” cried Roberts, patting his brother middy on the shoulder. “It will be all right, so don’t be dumpy. I feel as if we are going to have a fine time of it.”

“Think we shall have any fighting?”

“Afraid not; but you do as I do. I mean to get hold of a cutlass and pistols. I’m not going to risk my valuable life with nothing to preserve it but a ridiculous dirk. Don’t you be downhearted and think that the expedition is coming to grief.”

“Not I,” said Murray cheerily. “I suppose it’s all right; but I couldn’t help thinking what I have told you. I wish I didn’t think such things; but it’s a way I have.”

“Yes,” said his companion, “and any one wouldn’t expect it of you, Franky, seeing what a light-hearted chap you are. It’s a fault in your nature, a thing you ought to correct. If you don’t get over it you’ll never make a dashing officer.”

“Be too cautious, eh?” said Murray good-humouredly.

“That’s it, old chap. Oh, I say, though, I wish it was nearly night, and that we were going off at once. But I say, where’s the Yankee?”

“What!” cried Murray, starting. “Isn’t he alongside in his boat?”

“No; didn’t you see? He came aboard half-an-hour ago. Old Bosun Dempsey fetched him out of his lugger; and look yonder, you croaking old cock raven. We always have one jolly as sentry at the gangway, don’t we?”

“Of course.”

“Very well, look now; there are two loaded and primed ready for any pranks the lugger men might play; and there are the two cutters ready for lowering down at a moment’s notice, and it wouldn’t take long for Dempsey to fizzle out his tune on his pipe and send the crews into them.”

“Bah! Pish! Pooh! and the rest of it. What do you mean by that? Look, the lugger is a fast sailer.”

“Well, I dare say she is, but one of our little brass guns can send balls that sail through the air much faster. So drop all those dismal prophecies and damping thoughts about danger. Our officers know their way about and have got their eyes open. The skipper knows about everything, and what he doesn’t know bully Anderson tells him. It’s all right, Franky. Just look at the lads! Why, there’s Tom May smiling as if he’d filled his pockets full of prize money.”

“Yes,” assented Murray, “and the other lads have shaped their phizzes to match. But let’s get closer to the lugger.”

“What for?” said Roberts sharply.

“To have a good look at her Indiarubber-cultivating crew.”

“Not I!” cried Roberts. “If we go there you’ll begin to see something wrong again, and begin to croak.”

“No, no; honour bright! If I do think anything, I won’t say a word.”

“I’d better keep you here out of temptation,” said Roberts dubiously.

“Nonsense! It’s all right, I tell you. There, come along.”

Chapter Five.

Trusting a Guide

The two lads made for where they could get a good view of the lugger swinging by a rope abreast of the starboard gangway, and as they passed along the quarter-deck, the shrill strident tones of the American’s voice reached them through one of the open cabin skylights, while directly after, Murray, keen and observant of everything, noted that the two marines of whom his companion had spoken were standing apparently simply on duty, but thoroughly upon the alert and ready for anything, their whole bearing suggesting that they had received the strictest of orders, and were prepared for anything that might occur.

Roberts gave his companion a nudge with his elbow and a quick glance of the eye, which produced “Yes, all right; I see,” from Murray. “I’m afraid – I mean I’m glad to see that I was only croaking; but I say, Dick, have a good quiet look at those fellows and see if you don’t find some excuse for what I thought.”

“Bah! Beginning to croak again.”

“That I’m not,” said Murray. “I only say have a look at them, especially at that fellow smoking.”

“Wait a moment. I have focussed my eye upon that beauty getting his quid ready – disgusting!”

“Yes, it does look nasty,” said Murray, with the corners of his lips turning up. “The regular Malay fashion. That fellow never came from these parts.”

“Suppose not. Why can’t the nasty wretch cut a quid off a bit of black twist tobacco like an ordinary British sailor?”

“Instead of taking a leaf out of his pouch,” continued Murray, “smearing it with that mess of white lime paste out of his shell – ”

“Putting a bit of broken betel nut inside – ” said Roberts.

“Rolling it up together – ” continued Murray.

“And popping the whole ball into his pretty mouth,” said Roberts. “Bah! Look at his black teeth and the stained corners of his lips. Talk about a dirty habit! Our jacks are bad enough. Ugh!”

“I say, Dick,” whispered Murray, as the Malay occupant of the boat realised the fact that he was being watched, and rolled his opal eyeballs round with a peculiar leer up at the two young officers.

“Now then,” was the reply, “you promised that you wouldn’t croak.”

“To be sure. I only wanted to say that fellow looks a beauty.”

“Beauty is only skin deep,” said Roberts softly.

“And ugliness goes to the bone,” whispered Murray, smiling. “Yes, he looks a nice fellow to be a cultivator of the indiarubber plant.”

“Eh? Who said he was?” said Roberts sharply.

“His skipper. That’s what they all are. Splendid workers too. Do more than regular niggers.”

“Do more, no doubt,” said Roberts thoughtfully. “But they certainly don’t look like agricultural labourers. Why, they’re a regular crew of all sorts.”

“Irregular crew, you mean,” said Murray. “That one to the left looks like an Arab.”

“Yes, and the one asleep with his mouth open and the flies buzzing about him looks to me like a Krooboy. Well, upon my word, old Croaker, they do look – I say, do you see that blackest one?”

“Yes; and I’ve seen them before, you know.”

“But he opened and shut his mouth just now. You didn’t see that, did you?”

“Yes, I saw it; he has had his teeth filed like a saw.”

“That’s what I meant, and it makes him look like a crocodile when he gapes.”

“Or a shark.”

“Well,” said Roberts, after a pause, “upon my word, Frank, they do look about as ugly a set of cut-throat scoundrels as ever I saw in my life.”

“Right,” said Murray eagerly. “Well, what do you say now?”

“That I should like to point out their peculiarities to the skipper and old Anderson, and tell them what we think. Go and ask them to come and look.”

“I have already done so to Anderson.”

“But you ought to do it to the skipper as well. Look here, go at once and fetch him here to look.”

“While the American is with him? Thank you; I’d rather not.”

“Do you mean that?”

“To be sure I do. What would he say to me?”

“Oh, he’d cut up rough, of course; but you wouldn’t mind that in the cause of duty.”

Murray laughed softly.

“Why, Dick, I can almost hear what he would say about my impudence to attempt to teach him his duty. No, thank you, my dear boy; if he and Anderson think it right to trust the American, why, it must be right. If you feel that the nature of these fellows ought to be pointed out, why, you go and do it.”

Roberts took another look at the lugger’s crew, and then shrugged his shoulders, just as the captain came on deck, followed by the American and the first lieutenant.

The American was talking away volubly, and every word of the conversation came plainly to the ears of the two lads.

“Of course, cyaptain, I’ll stop on board your craft if yew like, but I put it to yew, how am I going to play pilot and lead you in through the mouth if I stop here? I can sail my lugger easy enough, but I should get into a tarnation mess if I tried to con your big ship. Better let me lead in aboard my own craft, and you follow.”

“In the darkness of night?” said the captain.

“There ain’t no darkness to-night, mister. It’ll be full moon, and it’s morning pretty early – just soon enough for you to begin business at daybreak. I shall lead you right up to where the schooner’s lying, and then you’ll be ready to waken the skipper up by giving him a good round up with your big guns.”

“And what about the slaves?”

“Oh, you must fire high, sir, and then yew won’t touch them. High firing’s just what yew want so as to cripple his sails and leave him broken-winged like a shot bird on the water.”

The captain nodded, and the two midshipmen, after a glance at the first lieutenant, to see that he was listening attentively with half-closed eyes, gazed at the American again.

“Lookye here, mister,” he said, “yew must make no mistake over this job. If yew do, it’s going to be pretty bad for me, and instead of me being rid of a bad neighbour or two, and coming in for a long strip of rich rubber-growing land, I shall find myself dropped upon for letting on to him yewr craft; and I tell yew he’s a coon, this slave cyaptain, as won’t forgive anything of that kind. He’s just this sort of fellow. If he finds I’ve done him such an on-neighbourly act, he’ll just give his fellows a nod, and in less time than yew can wink there’ll be no rubber-grower anywhere above ground, for there’ll be a fine rich plantation to sell and no bidders, while this ’ere industrious enterprising party will be somewhere down the river, put aside into some hole in the bank to get nice and mellow by one of the crockydiles, who object to their meat being too fresh.”

“Ugh!” shuddered Roberts.

“Oh, that’s right enough, young squire,” said the man, turning upon him sharply. “I ain’t telling you no travellers’ tales. It’s all true enough. Wal, cyaptain, don’t you see the sense of what I am saying?”

“Yes, sir. But tell me this; do you guarantee that there are no shoals anywhere about the mouth of the river?”

“Shoals, no; sands, no, sir. All deep water without any bottom to speak of. But where you find it all deep mud yew can’t take no harm, sir. The river’s made its way right threw the forest, and the bank’s cut right straight down and up perpendicular like, while if you were to go ashore it would only be to send your jib boom right in among the trees and your cut-water against the soft muddy bank. Why, it’s mostly a hundred feet deep. Yew trust me, and yew’ll find plenty of room; but if yew don’t feel quite comf’table, if I was yew I’d just lie off for a bit while you send in one of your boats and Squire First Lieutenant there, to see what it’s like, and the sooner the better, for the sun’s getting low, and as I dessay yew know better than I can tell yew, it ain’t long after the sun sinks before it’s tidy dark. Now then, what do yew say? I’m ready as soon as yew are.”

“How long will it take us to get up to the chief’s town?”

“’Bout till daylight to-morrow morn’, mister. That’s what I’m telling of yew.”

“Then it’s quite a big river?”

“Mighty big, sir.”

“And the current?”

“None at all hardly, mister. Yew’ll just ketch the night wind as blows off the sea, and that’ll take yew up as far as yew want to go. Then morrow mornin’ if yew’re done all yew want to do yew’ll have the land wind to take yew out to sea again. Though I’m thinking that yew won’t be able to do all yew want in one day, for there’s a lot of black folk to deal with, and I wouldn’t be in too great a hurry. Yew take my advice, cyaptain; do it well while yew’re about it, and yew won’t repent.”

“Never fear, sir,” said the captain sternly. “I shall do my work thoroughly. Now then, back into your lugger and show us the way. Mr Munday, take the second cutter and follow this American gentleman’s lead, and then stay alongside his boat while Mr Anderson comes back to report to me in the first cutter. You both have your instructions. Yes, Mr Roberts – Yes, Mr Murray,” continued the captain, in response to a couple of appealing looks; “you can accompany the two armed boats.”

Chapter Six.

Into the Mist

Murray thought that the American screwed up his eyes in a peculiar way when he found that the two boats were to go in advance of the sloop, but he had no opportunity for telling Roberts what he believed he had seen, while so busy a time followed and his attention was so much taken up that it was not till long afterwards that he recalled what he had noted.

The American, upon rejoining his lugger, sailed away at once with the two boats in close attendance and the sloop right behind, their pilot keeping along the dingy mangrove-covered shore and about half-a-mile distant, where no opening seemed visible; and so blank was the outlook that the first lieutenant had turned to his young companion to say in an angry whisper —

“I don’t like this at all, Mr Murray.” But the words were no sooner out of his mouth than to the surprise of both there was a sudden pressure upon the lugger’s tiller, the little vessel swung round, and her cut-water pointed at once for the densely wooded shore, so that she glided along in a course diagonal to that which she had been pursuing.

“Why, what game is he playing now?” muttered the lieutenant. “There is no opening here. Yes, there is,” he added, the next minute. “No wonder we passed it by. How curious! Ah, here comes the moon.”