Part 8 (1/2)

”But why should we leave them without a boat, Mesty?” for Jack thought of the sharks, and the probability of the men attempting to swim off.

”I tell you, sar, this night they get drunk, to-morrow they get drunk again, but drunken men never keep quiet,---suppose one man say to others, 'Let's go board and kill officer, and then we do as we please,' they all say yes, and they all come and do it. No, sar-must have boat-if not for your sake, I must hab it, save my own life anyhow, for they hate me and kill me first; by de powers, stop a little.”

Jack felt the truth of Mesty's observation; he went aft with him, lowered down the small boat, and they hauled it alongside. Jack went down with Mesty into the cabin and fetched his pistols. ”And the Spaniard, Mesty, can we leave him on board alone?”

”Yes, sar, he no got arms, and he see dat me have-but suppose he find arms he never dare do anything-I know de man.”

Our hero and Mesty went into the boat and shoved off, pulling gently on sh.o.r.e; the men were in a state of intoxication, so as not to be able to move, much less hear. They cast off the cutter, towed her on board, and made her fast with the other boat astern.

”Now, sar, we may go to bed; to-morrow morning you will see.” ”They have everything they require on sh.o.r.e,' replied Easy, ”all they could want with the cutter would be to molest us.”

”Stop a little,” replied Mesty. Jack and Mesty went to bed, and as a precaution against the Spaniard, which was hardly necessary, Mesty locked the cabin door but Mesty never forgot anything.

Jack slept little that night-had melancholy forebodings which he could not shake off; indeed, Jack had reflected so much since he had left the s.h.i.+p, he had had his eyes so much opened, and had felt what a responsibility he had taken by indulging himself in a whim of the moment, that it might be almost said, that in the course of one fortnight he had at once from a boy sprung up into a man. He was mortified and angry, but he was chiefly so with himself.

Mesty was up at daylight, and Jack soon followed him: they watched the party on sh.o.r.e, who had not yet left the tent. At last, just as Jack had finished his breakfast, one or two made their appearance; the men looked about them as if they were searching for something, and then walked down to the beach, to where the boat had been made fast. Jack looked at Mesty, who grinned, and answered with the words so often repeated- ”Stop a little.”

The men then walked along the rocks until they were abreast of the s.h.i.+p.

”s.h.i.+p ahoy!”

”Halloo,” replied Mesty.

”Bring the boat ash.o.r.e directly, with a beaker of water.”

”I knew dat,” cried Mesty, rubbing his hands with delight. ”Ma.s.sa Easy, you must tell them No.”

”But why should I not give them water, Mesty?”

”Because, sar, den they take boat.”

”Very true,” replied Easy.

”Do you hear on board?” cried the c.o.xswain, who was the man who hailed-”send the boat immediately, or we'll cut the throats of every mother's son of you, by G.o.d!”

”I shall not send the boat,” replied Jack, who now thought Mesty was right.

”You won't-won't you?-then your doom's sealed,” replied the man, walking up to the tent with the other. In a short time all the seamen turned out of the tent, bringing with them four muskets, which they had taken on sh.o.r.e with them.

”Good heavens! they are not, surely, going to fire at us, Mesty.” ”Stop a little.” The men then came down abreast of the s.h.i.+p, and the c.o.xswain again hailed, and asked if they would bring the boat on sh.o.r.e.

”You must say, No, sar,” replied Mesty. ”I feel I must,” replied Jack; and then he answered the c.o.xswain, ”No.” The plan of the mutineers had been foreseen by the wily negro-it was to swim off to the boats which were riding astern, and to fire at him or Jack, if they attempted to haul them up alongside and defend them. To get into the boats, especially the smaller one, from out of the water was easy enough. Some of the men examined their priming and held the muskets at their hips all ready, with the muzzles towards the s.h.i.+p, while the c.o.xswain and two men were throwing off their clothes.

”Stop, for G.o.d's sake, stop!” cried Jack. ”The harbour is full of ground sharks,-it is, upon my soul!”

”Do you think to frighten us with ground sharks?” replied the c.o.xswain; ”keep under cover, my lad; Jack, give him a shot to prove we are in earnest, and every time he or that n.i.g.g.e.r show their heads, give them another, my lads.”

”For Cod's sake, don't attempt to swim,” said Jack, in an agony; ”I will try some means to give you water.”

”Too late now-you're doomed”; and the c.o.xswain sprang off the rock into the sea, and was followed by two other men: at the same moment a musket was discharged, and the bullet whistled close to our hero's ear.

Mesty dragged Jack from the gangway, who was nearly fainting from agonising feelings. He sank on the deck for a moment, and then sprang up and ran to the port to look at the men in the water. He was just in time to see the c.o.xswain raise himself with a loud yell out of the sea, and then disappear in a vortex, which was crimsoned with his blood.

Mesty threw down his musket in his hand, of which he had several already loaded, in case the men should have gained the boats.

”By the powers, dat no use now!” Jack had covered his face with his hands. But the tragedy was not complete: the other men, who were in the water, had immediately turned and made for the sh.o.r.e; but before they could reach it, two more of these voracious monsters, attracted by the blood of the c.o.xswain, had flown to the spot, and there was a contention for the fragments of their bodies.

Mesty, who had seen this catastrophe, turned towards our hero, who still hid his face. ”I'm glad he no see dat, anyhow,” muttered Mesty. ”See what!” exclaimed Jack. ”Shark eat em all.” ”Oh, horrid! horrid!” groaned our hero. ”Yes, sar, very horrid,' replied Mesty, ”and dat bullet at your head very horrid. Suppose the sharks no take them, what then? They kill us and the sharks have our body. I think that more horrid still.”

”Mesty,” replied Jack, seizing the negro convulsively by the arm, 'it was not the sharks-it was I,-I who have murdered these men.”

Mesty looked at Jack with surprise. ”How dat possible?” ”If I had not disobeyed orders,” replied our hero, panting for breath, ”if I had not shown them the example of disobedience, this would not have happened. How could I expect submission from them? It's all my fault-I see it now-and, 0 G.o.d! when will the sight be blotted from my memory?”

”Ma.s.sa Easy, I not understand that,” replied Mesty: ”I think you talk foolish-might as well say, suppose Ashantee men not make war, this not happen; for suppose Ashantee not make war, I not slave, I not run away,--I not come board Harpy-I not go in boat with you-I not hinder men from getting drunk-and dat why they make mutiny-and the mutiny why the shark take urn?”

Jack made no reply, but he felt some consolation from the counter argument of the negro.

The dreadful death of the three mutineers appeared to have had a sensible effect upon their companions, who walked away from the beach with their heads down and with measured steps. They were now seen to be perambulating the island, probably in search of that water which they required. At noon, they returned to their tent, and soon afterwards were in a state of intoxication, hallooing and shouting as the day before. Towards the evening they came down to the beach abreast of the s.h.i.+p, each with a vessel in their hands, and perceiving that they had attracted the notice of our hero and Mesty, tossed the contents of the vessels up in the air to show that they had found water, and hooting and deriding, went back, dancing, leaping, and kicking up their heels, to renew their orgies, which continued till after midnight, when they were all stupefied as before.

The next day Jack had recovered from the first shock which the catastrophe had given him, and he called Mesty into the cabin to hold a consultation.

”Mesty, how is this to end?” ”How you mean, sar?-end here, or end on board of the Harpy?” ”The Harpy,-there appears little chance of our seeing her again-we are on a desolate island, or what is the same thing; but we will hope that it will be so: but how is this mutiny to end?”

”Ma.s.sa Easy, suppose I please, I make it end very soon, but I not in a hurry.” ”How do you mean, Mesty, not in a hurry?” ”Look, Ma.s.sa Easy; you wish take a cruise, and I wish the same ting: now because mutiny you want to go back-but by all de powers, you tink that I, a prince in my own country, feel wish to go back and boil kettle for de young gentlemen. No, Ma.s.sa Easy, gib me mutiny gib me anyting-but-once I was prince,” replied Mesty, lowering his voice at the last few emphatic words.

”You must one of these days tell me your history,” replied Jack; ”but just now let us argue the point in question. How could you put an end to this mutiny?”

”By putting an end to all wine. Suppose I go sh.o.r.e after they all drunk, I spile the casks in three or four places, and in the morning all wine gone-den dey ab get sober, and beg pardon-we take dem on board, put away all arms, 'cept yours and mine, and I like to see the mutiny after dat. Blood and 'ounds-but I settle um, anyhow.”

”The idea is very good, Mesty,-why should we not do so?” ”Because I not like run de risk to go ash.o.r.e-all for what? to go back, boil de kettle for all gentlemans-I very happy here, Ma.s.sa,” replied Mesty, carelessly.

”And I am very miserable,” replied Jack; ”but, however, I am completely in your power, Mesty, and I must, I suppose, submit.”

”What you say, Ma.s.sa Easy-submit to me?-no sar, when you are on board Harpy as officer, you talk with me as friend, and not treat me as negro servant. Ma.s.sa Easy, I feel-I feel what I am,” continued Mesty, striking his bosom, ”I feel it here-for all first time since I leave my country, I feel that I am someting; but, Ma.s.sa Easy, I love my friend as much as I hate my enemy-and you nebber submit to me-I too proud to allow dat, 'cause, Ma.s.sa Easy-I am a man-and once, I was a prince.”

Although Mesty did not perhaps explain by words half so well as he did by his countenance the full tide of feeling which was overflowing in his heart, Jack fully understood and felt it. He extended his hand to Mesty, and said- ”Mesty-that you have been a prince, I care little about, although I doubt it not, because you are incapable of a lie; but you are a man, and I respect you, nay, I love you as a friend-and with my will we never part again.”

Mesty took the hand offered by Jack. It was the first peace offering ever extended to him since he had been torn away from his native land-the first compliment, the first tribute, the first acknowledgment, perhaps, that he was not an inferior being; he pressed it in silence, for he could not speak; but could the feelings which were suffocating the negro but have been laid before sceptics, they must have acknowledged that at that moment they were all and only such as could do honour, not only to the prince, but even to the Christian. So much was Mesty affected with what had happened, that when he dropped the hand of our hero, he went down into the cabin, finding it impossible to continue the conversation, which was not renewed until the next morning.

”What is your opinion, Mesty? Tell me, and I will be governed by it.” ”Den, sar, I tell you I tink it right that they first come and ask to come on board before you take them-and, sar, I tink it also right as we are but two and they are five, dat dey first eat all their provisions. Let 'em starve plenty, and den dey come on board tame enough.”

”At all events,” replied Jack, ”the first overtures of some kind or another must come from them. I wish I had something to do-I do not much like this cooping up on board s.h.i.+p.”