Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop. Fenn George Manville
say, about daybreak.”
“Exactly; that will do.”
“Jest what I said to myself. Daybreak’s the time when everybody aboard will be fast asleep, for they don’t carry on there like yew do aboard a man-o’-war with your keeping watch and that sort of thing.”
“Of course not,” said the officer. “Well, then, I may go and tell the captain what you say?”
“That’s jest as yew like, mister. I should if it was me.”
“Exactly. And you feel sure that you can keep your word?”
“Wish I was as sure of getting hold of that there piece o’ territory, mister, and the nigger chief cleared away.”
“Then you don’t feel quite sure?” put in Murray.
“Course I don’t, young officer. There’s many a pick at a worm as turns out a miss, ain’t there? How do I know that my Portygee neighbour mayn’t slip off through your boats making too much of a row instead of creeping up quiet? You mean right, all of you, but I shan’t feel sure till you’ve made a prisoner of that chap and scattered the nigger chief and his men where they’ll be afraid to come back. Now then; you said something about talking too much. I’m going to shut up shop now and give my tongue a holiday till I’ve laid you where you can send your boats to do their work. But I say, just one word more, mister,” said the man anxiously; and the lieutenant felt his hand tremble as he laid it upon his arm; “yew will be careful, won’t yew?”
“Trust us,” replied the lieutenant.
“That’s what I’m a-doing; but jest you think. It puts me in mind of the boys and the frogs in your English moral story – what may be fun to yew may be death to me. Tell your skipper that he must take all the care he can.”
“I will,” said the lieutenant.
“But look here; perhaps I’d better come aboard and say a word to him. Don’t you think I might?”
“No,” was the reply.
“But what do yew say, young mister?”
“I say no too,” replied Murray. “Your place is here aboard your lugger.”
“Wall, I suppose you’re right,” half whimpered the man, “for we’re getting tidy nigh now, and I don’t want anything to go wrong through my chaps making a mistake. I’ll chance it, so you’d best get aboard your vessel. Tell the skipper I shall do it just at daylight. Less than half-an-hour now. Then’ll be the time.”
“One moment,” said Murray, as the lieutenant was about to give the order for the coxswain to unhook and let the cutter glide back to the sloop.
“Yes, mister; what is it?”
“What’s that dull roaring sound?”
“Roaring sound? One of them howling baboon beasts in the woods perhaps. Calling its mates just before sunrise.”
“No, no; I mean that – the sound of water.”
“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