“Oh, that!” said the man. “Yes, yew can hear it quite plain, and we’re nigher than I thought. That’s on my ground over yonder. Bit of a fall that slops over from the river and turns a little sugar-mill I’ve got. There, cast off and tell your skipper to look out and be smart. Less than half-an-hour I shall be taking yew round a big point there is here, and as soon as it’s light enough when yew get round, yew’ll be able to see the chief’s huts and thatched barracks where he cages his blackbirds, while the schooner will be anchored out in front, waiting for you to have sailed away. Her skipper will be taken all on the hop. He’ll never think of seeing you drop upon him.”

“He’ll never suspect that the way up the river will be found out?” said the lieutenant.

“That’s it, mister; but you’ll tell your skipper to be spry and careful, for if yew don’t do it right it’ll be death to me.”

“I see,” said the lieutenant rather hoarsely from excitement. “Now then, my man, cast off.”

“One moment,” said the American, and Murray saw him through the paling moonlight raise his hand as if to wipe his brow. “You quite understand, then? The river gives a big bend round to left, then another to the right, and then one more to the left, jest like a wriggling wum. Tell your skipper to follow me close so as to run by me as soon as he sees the schooner lying at anchor. She’ll come into sight all at once from behind the trees like, and whatever you do, run close aboard and grapple her. Her skipper’ll have no time to show fight if you do your work to rights. I’m all of a tremble about it, I tell yew, for it means so much to me. There; my work’s jest about done, and I’m going to run for the shore out of the way. I don’t want the Portygee to get so much as a sniff of me.”

“Cast off,” said the lieutenant; and as the cutter dropped back free, the lugger seemed to spring forward into faint mist, which began to show upon the broad surface of the great river, while the sloop glided up alongside, one of the men caught the rope that was heaved to them, and directly after Murray missed their pilot and his swift craft, for it was eclipsed by the Seafowl as she glided between, right in the lugger’s wake.

Chapter Seven.
Trapped

“Well, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, as the latter briefly related the last sayings of the American, “that’s all plain enough, and in a few minutes we ought to be alongside.”

“Yes, sir, after following the windings of the river, or in other words following our guide, till we see the masts of the schooner above the trees.” And the lieutenant stood anxiously watching the lugger, which seemed to have rapidly increased its distance. “I presume, sir, that we are all ready for action?”

“Of course we are, Mr Anderson,” said the captain stiffly. “We shall keep on till we are pretty close, then run up into the wind, and you and Mr Munday will head the boarders. We shall take them so by surprise that there will be very little resistance. But I see no signs of the schooner’s spars yet.”

“No, sir, but we have to make another bend round yet.”

“Yes, of course,” said the captain, as he swept the river banks with his night glass.

“The river seems to fork here, though, sir,” said the lieutenant anxiously.

“Humph! Yes; but I suppose it’s all right, for the lugger keeps on. We must be on the correct course if we follow him.”

“Beg pardon, sir,” said Murray excitedly. “I caught sight of the masts of a vessel lying yonder.”

“Eh? Where, Mr Murray?” said the captain, in a low voice full of excitement.

“Yonder, sir, about half a mile to starboard, beyond the trees on the bank.”

“To be sure! Tall taper spars. I see, Mr Murray.”

“But the sloop is running straight away to port, sir,” said the lieutenant anxiously.

“Well, what of that, Mr Anderson? Did not the American tell you that we were to follow certain bends of the river?”

“Yes, sir, but – ”

“Yes, sir, but!” said the captain, in an angry whisper. “Is this a time for raising buts? According to your own showing, the schooner was to be found at anchor in one of the bends where the black chief’s town lay.”

“Yes, sir, but I see no sign of any thatched huts.”

“All in good time, Mr Anderson. We shall see the lugger swing round that next point directly, and then we shall be in full view of our prize.”

The captain turned from his chief officer impatiently, and then in a low tone issued a few orders with respect to future proceedings, the master following out the instructions, while the two boarding parties, each armed and ready, stood waiting for the command which should launch them on board the now invisible slaver.

“Bah!” ejaculated the captain. “We are half-an-hour too late. We ought to be alongside now. Hang the fellow, Mr Anderson! Can he be taking us the right way round that point?”

“I hope so, sir, but I have my suspicions,” replied the lieutenant anxiously.

“What, that he is playing us false?”

“No, sir, but that he has lost heart and is afraid to pilot us right to where the schooner lies.”

“The scoundrel! If he has – ” began the captain, sharing now in his subordinate’s anxiety. “Oh, impossible! He must know better than we do. Ahoy, there!” he cried, speaking just loud enough for the lookout to hear. “Can you make out where the lugger is making for?”

“Ay, ay, sir! Bit of a creek yonder, right inshore.”

“That’s it, sir,” cried the lieutenant excitedly; “he has taken fright. We must run round that bend yonder, keeping to mid-stream.”

“Or anchor,” exclaimed the captain sharply. “Why, confound it, man! The river forks here, and we are in a branch with a current running in another direction. Stand by there to lower the anchor!” he roared, “or we shall be ashore.”

The order came too late, for as in obedience to order after order, the sloop’s course was altered and her sails began to shiver, there was a preliminary shock as if bottom had been lightly touched, then a shiver which seemed to communicate itself upward from the deck through Murray’s spine, and the next minute the Seafowl heeled over slightly as she seemed to cut her way onward into the soft mud, where she stuck fast with the fierce current into which they had run pressing hardly against her side as it raced swiftly by.

“Trapped!” said a voice from close to Murray’s ear, and the young man turned swiftly from where he had been gazing over the side in the direction of the further shore, to encounter the first lieutenant’s angry eyes. “Well, Mr Murray,” he said bitterly, “where is that Yankee snake?”

“Just gliding in yonder among the trees, sir,” cried the young man passionately. “I suspected him from the first.”

“Well, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, hurrying up, and as coolly as if nothing whatever was wrong, “either you or I have placed the sloop in about as unpleasant a position as it was possible to get. Now then, how about getting out of it?”

“We’re on soft mud, sir,” said the gentleman addressed.

“And with a falling tide, I’m afraid. There, get to work man, and see what can be done with an anchor to haul her upon a level keel before the position is worse, for we shall board no slaver to-day.”

“Beg pardon, sir.”

“What is it, Mr Murray?”

The midshipman pointed right aft, where the faint mist was floating away from where it hung about a mile away over the distant shore.

“Well, sir, why don’t you speak?” cried the captain, now speaking angrily. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr Murray; another mist was in my eyes. That must be the course of the other fork of the river. I see it plainly now. We have been lured up here and run upon this muddy shoal in the belief that we shall never get off; and there goes our prize with her load of black unfortunates. Do you see her, Mr Anderson?”

“Too plainly, sir,” said the chief officer sadly.

For it was now broad daylight and the swift-looking schooner was gliding along apparently through the trees which covered a narrow spit of land.

“Hah!” said the captain quietly. “Yes, that’s it, Mr Anderson – our prize, and a beautiful morning for her to make her start for the West Indies. Bless that straightforward, timorous, modest American skipper! Do you know, Mr Anderson, I am strongly of opinion that he commands that craft and that he will find his way through some of the muddy creeks and channels of the mangrove forest back to where she will be waiting for him. Well, master, what do you think?” he continued, as that officer came up hurriedly. “Will the sloop lie over any further?”

“No, sir; that is stopped; but we are wedged in fast.”

“So I suppose. Well, Mr Thomson, it does not mean a wreck?”

“No, no, sir, nor any damage as far as I can say.”

“Damage, Mr Thomson,” said the captain, smiling at him pleasantly; “but it does, man; damage to our reputation – mine – Mr Anderson’s. But you were going to say something, to ask me some question.”

“Yes, sir; about taking steps to get the sloop out of the bed in which she lies.”

“Poor bird, yes; but you see no risk for the present?”

“Not the slightest, sir. The mud is so soft.”

“Mud generally is, Mr Thomson,” said the captain blandly. “Well, then, let her rest for a while. We are all tired after a long night’s work. Pass the word to Mr Dempsey, and let him pipe all hands for breakfast. I want mine badly.”

There was a faint cheer at this, followed by another, and then by one which Murray said was a regular “roarer.”

“I say,” he said to Roberts, “doesn’t he take it splendidly!”

“Don’t you make any mistake,” replied that young gentleman. “He seems as cool as a cucumber, but he’s boiling with rage, and if he had that Yankee here he’d hang him from the yard-arm as sure as he’s his mother’s son.”

“And serve him right,” said Murray bitterly.

“What’s that, young gentlemen?” said the captain, turning upon them sharply, for he had noted what was going on and placed his own interpretation upon the conversation – “criticising your superiors?”

“No, sir,” said Murray frankly; “we were talking about punishing the Yankee who tricked us into this.”

“Gently, Mr Murray – gently, sir! You hot-blooded boys are in too great a hurry. Wait a bit. I dare say we shall have the pleasure of another interview with him; and, by the way, Mr Anderson, I think as we are so near, we might as well inspect the indiarubber plantations of our friend. We might see, too, if he has any more work-people of the same type as those who manned his galley.”

“I’m afraid we should only find them on board the schooner, sir,” said the chief officer bitterly.

“Exactly,” said the captain; “but I wonder at you young gentlemen,” he continued – “you with your sharp young brains allowing yourselves to be deceived as you were. Those fellows who formed the lugger’s crew ought not to have hoodwinked you.”

“They did me, sir,” said Roberts, speaking out warmly, “but Murray, here, sir, was full of suspicion from the first.”

Chapter Eight.
Amongst the Horrors

The crew of the Seafowl had a busy day’s work after a good refresher, during which officers and men had been discussing in low tones the way in which “the skipper,” as they called him, had let himself be tricked by the Yankee. The younger men wanted to know what he could have been about, while the elder shook their heads sagely.

“Ah,” more than one said, “it has always been the same since the revolution; these Yankees have been too much for us. There’s something in the American air that sharpens their brains.”

Then old Dempsey, the boatswain, who had heard pretty well all that the captain had said, chewed it over, digested it, and gave it voice as if it was something new, to first one knot of listeners and then another, ending with the two midshipmen.

“You see, Mr Murray, and you too, Mr Roberts, it was like this. That schooner had just started for the West Injies with a full load of niggers, when she sighted the Seafowl and knowed she was a king’s ship looking after a prize.”

“How could the Yankee skipper know that?” said Murray. “He could only get just a glimpse before we were hidden by the fog.”

“Cut of the jib, sir – cut of the jib,” said the old man. “What else could he think? ’Sides, Yankee slaving skippers have got consciences, same as other men.”

“Rubbish, Mr Dempsey!” said Roberts contemptuously.

“Course they are, sir – worst of rubbish, as you say, but there’s bad consciences as well as good consciences, and a chap like him, carrying on such work as his, must be always ready to see a king’s ship in every vessel he sights. But well, young gentlemen, as I was a-saying, he sights us, and there was no chance for him with us close on his heels but dodgery.”

“Dodgery, Mr Dempsey?” said Roberts.

“Yes, sir; Yankee tricks. Of course he couldn’t fight, knowing as he did that it meant a few round shot ’twixt and ’tween wind and water, and the loss of his craft. So he says to himself, ‘what’s to be done?’ and he plays us that trick. Sends his schooner up the river while he puts off in that there lugger and pretends to be a injyrubber grower. That ought to have been enough to set the skipper and Mr Anderson thinking something was wrong, but that’s neither here nor there. He pretends that he was a highly respectable sort of fellow, when all the time he was a sorter human fox, and lures, as the captain calls it, our sloop into this sort of a branch of the big river where the current runs wrong way on because part of the waters of the great river discharges theirselves. And then what follows?”

“Why, we were carried by the strange current into the muddy shallow and nearly capsized, Mr Dempsey, while we had the satisfaction of seeing the slaver sail away with her crew,” interposed Murray impatiently.

The grizzly-headed, red-faced old boatswain turned upon the lad with an offended air and said with dignity —

“If you’d only had a little patience, Mr Murray, I was going to tell you all that.”

He grunted audibly as he walked away, and as soon as he was out of hearing Murray cried impatiently —

“What did he want to bore us with all that for? Tiresome old fogey! But I say, Dick, you take my advice – don’t you get anywhere near the skipper if you can help it to-day. He took things very smoothly before breakfast, but you’ll see now that he will be as savage as a bear with a sore head, as they say, and lead every one a terrible life.”

“Oh, if you are going to deal out old saws, young man,” replied Roberts, “you go and teach your grandmother how to suck eggs. Just as if I was likely to go near him until he has got the sloop well afloat!”

But what proved to have been every one’s opinion turned out entirely wrong, for the captain had never shown himself to better advantage.

As soon as breakfast was over, and had been partaken of in the most deliberate way as far as he was concerned, he turned to the officers, all smiles, and began giving orders in the coolest of fashions and all guided by so much judgment that by carefully laying out anchors, the use of the capstan, haulage, and taking advantage of the wind, the sloop soon rose upon an even keel and rested at last in a safe position. The tide that ran up as far as the black king’s city did the rest, and the next day the sloop lay at anchor just where the schooner had been the previous morning, that is to say, in a position where she could easily gain access to the sea.

Once the sloop was in safety and the officers had pretty well mastered the intricacies of the river’s course, and the tidal and other currents which protected the slaver’s lair, a couple of armed boats pulled ashore to examine the place with caution, lest they should encounter some other trap.

“There’s no knowing, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, “so at the slightest sign of danger draw back. I don’t want a man to be even wounded at the expense of capturing a score of the black scum, even if one of them proves to be the king.”

The captain’s orders were carefully carried out, while once more the two midshipmen succeeded in accompanying the landing parties, to find that the king’s town of palm-thatched hovels was completely deserted. It had evidently been a busy, thickly inhabited place, where prisoners were herded together by the brutal savages who made incursions in different directions, and held their unfortunate captives ready for the coming of the slaver. But now the place was a dreary silent waste, and the trail well marked showed plainly the direction taken by the native marauders to some forest stronghold, near at hand or far distant, it was impossible to say which.

“Pah!” ejaculated Murray, as he sprang back with disgust from the strongly palisaded enclosure which was evidently the prisoners’ barracks. “Let’s get away, Dick.”

“I’m ready,” was the reply, “but I say, did you go round the other side yonder?”

The lad pointed as he spoke.

“No. What was there to see?”

“Tom May found it out,” replied the midshipman, “and I was idiot enough to go. Here, Tom,” he cried, signing to the generally amiable-looking sailor to approach; and he strode up, cutlass in hand, musket over his shoulder, scowling and fierce of aspect. “Tell Mr Murray what you showed me over yonder, Tom.”

The man’s face puckered up as he turned and met Murray’s eyes.

“It’s ’most too horrid, sir,” he said, “and don’t do no good but make a man savage, sir. There’s just fourteen of ’em among the trees there.”

“What, prisoners?” said Murray excitedly.

“Yes, sir, and six on ’em got the chains on ’em still.”

“Well, what about the armourer?” cried Murray excitedly, turning upon Roberts. “Didn’t Mr Anderson have them struck off?”

“No, lad,” replied Roberts. “There was only one of them alive out of the whole fourteen, and I don’t think she’ll be alive when Munday comes back.”

“Comes back! I didn’t know he had put off again.”

“Gone for the doctor,” said Roberts. “Go on, Tom May. Tell him what you made it out to be.”

“Just this, sir – that they’d got more than the schooner could take away, and they finished off the sick and wounded.”

“How could you tell that?” said Murray, with a look of horror.

“Seemed pretty plain, sir. All the men had old wounds as well as what must have been given them to finish ’em yes’day morning, sir, when the black fellows forsook the place.”

“But you said – finished the men who had old wounds?”

“Yes, sir; half healed. T’other wounds was fresh, and the women and children – ”

“Women and children!” cried Murray excitedly.

“Yes, sir; knocked on the head – clubbed. Didn’t care to take ’em away with them, sir, when we come.”

“Oh, Dick,” said Murray, whose face now looked ghastly, “I knew that there were horrors enough over the slave-trade, but I never thought it could be so bad as that. Here, Tom, where is this? Show me.”

“Don’t be a fool, old chap,” whispered Roberts, grasping his companion’s arm. “You’ve heard what Tom said. I’ve seen it too, and I could tell you, but I won’t. It’s too horrid to go and see again.”

“Yes, it must be horrible,” said the young man passionately; “but you said one poor creature was still alive?”

“Yes, and the doctor’s being fetched.”

“But something might be done – water – carried into the shade.”

“We did all that, sir,” said the sailor gruffly.

“Who did?” asked Murray excitedly.

“Well, I helped, sir, and the poor black lass looked at me as if she thought I was one of ’em going to take her aboard a slaver.”

“But didn’t you tell her – Oh, you are right, Dick; I am a fool! She couldn’t have understood unless it was by our acts.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr Murray, sir,” said the man eagerly. “The poor thing took quite a turn like when I knelt down and held my waterbottle to her lips.”

Murray stood looking at the man, with his brow furrowed, and then he nodded.

“Now then,” he said, “where was this?”

“T’other side of this barrack place, sir,” said the man; “just over yonder.”

“Show me,” said Murray abruptly.

“I wouldn’t go, Frank,” whispered Roberts.

“I must,” was the reply. “Lead the way, Tom.”

“One of our lads is with her, sir,” said the man, hesitating.

“So much the better,” cried Murray firmly. “You heard what I said?”

Roberts, who was nearest to the sailor, heard him heave a deep sigh as he gave his trousers a hitch, and led the way past the vile-smelling palm and bamboo erection which had quite lately been the prison of a large number of wretched beings, the captives made by the warlike tribe who kept up the supply of slaves for bartering to the miscreants. Those who from time to time sailed up the river to the king’s town to carry on the hateful trade content if they could load up with a terrible cargo and succeed in getting one-half of the wretched captives alive to their destination in one of the plantation islands, or on the mainland.

Tom May took as roundabout a route as he could contrive so as to spare the young officers the gruesome sights that he and the other men had encountered; but enough was left to make Murray wince again and again.

“Why, Tom,” he exclaimed at last, “no punishment could be too bad for the wretches who are answerable for all this.”

“That’s what me and my messmates have been saying, sir; and of course it’s going to be a nasty job, but we’re all ready and waiting for our officers to give the word – Course I mean, sir, as soon as we get the chance.”

“Only wait, my lad,” said Murray, through his set teeth.

“That’s what we keep on doing, sir,” said the man bitterly. “You see, it’s pretty well all wait.”

“The time will come, Tom.”

“Yes, sir; course it will, and when it does – ”

The man moistened the palm of his right hand, clapped it to the hilt of his re-sheathed cutlass, and half drew it from the scabbard. “My!” he ejaculated, and his eyes seemed to flash in the morning sunshine. “It’s going to be a warm time for some of ’em. I shouldn’t like to be in that Yankee gentleman’s shoes, nor be wearing the boots of his men where they had ’em.”

“Oh, but these people could not be such inhuman wretches,” said Murray excitedly. “The murderous, atrocious treatment – the killing of those poor prisoners must be the act of the black chief and his men.”

“Hope so, sir,” said the sailor bluntly. “It’s too black to be done by a white. But all the same, sir, if the white skipper didn’t want his cargoes, the nigger king and his men wouldn’t supply ’em; and here’s the doctor come ashore, sir,” added the man, in a whisper.

For the two parties met just at the edge of a clump of trees, within whose shade the unfortunate creature who had interested the midshipman in her fate was lying with one of the seamen standing by her head, his musket grounded and his crossed arms resting upon the muzzle.

“Ah, gentlemen, you here!” said the doctor, nodding shortly. “Nice place, this. Humph!” he ejaculated, as with brows contracting he went down on one knee. – “There, don’t be frightened, my lass,” he continued softly, for as he drew near, the poor creature, who had been lying in the shade with her eyes half-closed, startled by the footsteps, suddenly raised her lids in a wild stare of horror and shrank away. “Poor wretch!” continued the doctor. “The sight of a man can only mean horrors for her.”

“Horrors indeed, doctor,” cried Murray excitedly; “but pray do something for her!”

“No,” said the doctor gravely. “Nature is her doctor now.”

“What do you mean?” said the young man, half annoyed by the doctor’s inaction.

“That she is in the hands of a kinder doctor than I could be – one who knows what is best for her. Look!”

He shrugged his shoulders and turned away.

“Let your men cut a few of those big leaves, Mr Murray, and lay over her.”

“You are too late?” said Roberts excitedly.

“Yes, my dear boy,” replied the doctor. “With such hurts as the poor girl had received it was only a matter of time. Ah, I wish to goodness we had caught that schooner! It’s time all this was stamped out. There, come away and bring your men. Oh, here comes Mr Anderson. Well, what are you going to do?” For the first lieutenant came up, followed by some of his men, glanced at the motionless figure and the action being taken, and turned away.

“What am I going to do?” he replied, frowning angrily. “Nothing but communicate with the captain for fresh instructions.”

“But aren’t we going to pursue the black chief and his people through the forest, sir, and punish them?” asked Murray, who was strangely moved by his first encounter with the horrors of a slave encampment.

“No, Mr Murray, we certainly are not,” replied the lieutenant, “for the chief and his men will take plenty of care that we do not overtake them. Here, come away, my lads; this place is pestiferous enough to lay every one down with fever.”

“Yes; I was just going to give you a very broad hint. Fire, eh?” said the doctor.

The lieutenant nodded.

“I must just have a word or two with the captain first,” said the lieutenant, and giving the order, the men began to march to where the boats lay with their keepers, and a sentry or two had been thrown out to guard against surprise.

Murray closed up to the doctor, who was looking sharply about him at the trees which remained standing amongst the almost countless huts.

“Not many cocoanuts, Murray,” he said.

“Oh,” cried the young man, who felt more annoyed by the doctor’s indifference than ever, “I was not thinking about palm-trees!”

“But I was,” said the doctor; “they’ll burn tremendously.”

“Ah,” cried the midshipman, “that was what I wanted to speak about. Did you mean to suggest that the place should be burned?”

“Certainly, sir,” said the doctor shortly.

“The village – but with the slave barrack?”

“Of course,” said the doctor shortly. “Don’t you think it would be best?”

“I – Oh! It seems so horrible,” began Murray.

The doctor looked at him searchingly, and laid his hand upon the youth’s shoulder.

“I understand, Murray,” he said quietly. “It does seem as you say repugnant; but it is necessary, my lad, for several reasons, one of the first of which it that it will be a lesson for the black king.”

“But he could soon have another village built.”

“Then we ought to come and burn that, and his people with him, if we could get hold of the wretches. I’m sure you must have seen enough this morning to make you feel how necessary it is for this slave traffic to be stamped out.”

“Yes, of course,” said Murray, “but – ”

“Then take my advice, my lad,” said the doctor, gripping the lad’s arm; “leave these matters to your superior officers, and don’t look at me as if I were a heartless brute. My profession makes me firm, my lad, not unfeeling.”

“Oh, I don’t think that, sir,” said the lad quickly.

“But you thought something of the kind, Murray, my lad, and I like you, so it hurt me a little. You ought to have known that black and white, good and bad, are all one to a doctor. He sees only a patient, whatever they may be. But in this case I saw that this poor black woman was at almost her last gasp. Understand?”

“Yes, I see now, sir, and I beg your pardon,” said the midshipman.

“We understand one another, Murray, and – Ah, here is the first luff doing just what I wanted him to do.”

For that officer had gathered his men together in the shade of a clump of trees where the moving branches blew from off the river in a breeze that was untainted by the miasma of the marshy ground and the horrors of the village, for it brought with it the odour of the floating seaweed and old ocean’s health-giving salts.

By this time one of the boats was despatched, and the lieutenant joined the pair.

“Ah, Mr Murray, you have lost your chance. I was going to send you to the captain for instructions, but you were busy with the doctor, so I sent Mr Roberts. – Giving him a lecture on the preservation of health, doctor?”

“Just a few hints,” said that gentleman, smiling. “We were taking opposite views, but I think Murray agrees with me now.”