“Not very likely. However, your idea of pretending to be dumb is good. I think I had better pretend to be an idiot,” answered Murray. “But the question is, who will they take us for? where do you fancy they will think we have come from? My idea is that we should rather try and find where Jack is, without falling foul of any of the natives. I want to set off directly it is dark, clamber up the hill where we saw him last, and cut him out. It is to be done, I am certain, and Jack is well worth all the risk we should have to run.”
“That he is,” exclaimed Adair warmly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him, and I’m sure he would do anything for us.”
The subject was fully discussed, and then the midshipmen went to Hemming, and asked leave to put their plan into execution. Hemming might on another occasion have been inclined to laugh at the proposal, but he was too anxious to get Jack out of the slavers’ power, for he felt his hands tied somewhat with the fear of what the blacks might do to the midshipman should he attack their town. He was therefore ready to try any plan, however desperate, to recover Rogers. Having obtained the leave they wanted, to put their plan into execution, Murray and Adair set to work to devise the details. As they could only hope to carry out their scheme at night, they agreed that they need not be very particular as to the correctness of their masquerade. There was no time to get any dye, but burnt cork well rubbed in with oil they agreed would answer the purpose. It was too late, however, to take any active steps that night. It was settled that the next morning the flotilla, with some parade, should proceed down the river, while they, with Dick Needham and a picked crew, should lie hid in the smallest boat till dusk the next evening; then they were to land and try and find out where Jack was.
Once discovering the locality of his prison they fully believed that they could, as they called it, “cut him out.”
The night passed away quietly. The party had expected an attack from the slave-dealers, but these gentry had received a sufficient notice of the warm reception they were likely to encounter, not to make the attempt. In the morning, however, Murray, who had the look-out while the rest were preparing to strike their tents, observed a party approaching with a white flag. He reported what he had seen to Lieutenant Hemming.
“The impudent scoundrels,” he exclaimed; “no flag of truce ought to shelter them. However, while poor Rogers is in their power, we must treat with them as we best can.”
The party soon arrived at the temporary encampment. The most prominent person was the burly negro, who had introduced himself down the river as a pilot, and there was a Spaniard and several blacks. The big negro was spokesman, as he professed to know more English than any of the rest. Hemming received them in a very haughty way.
“What is it you want? Have you come to excuse yourselves for firing on my boats and killing my people?” he asked in a stern voice.
It was difficult to understand exactly what the negro said in return, but Hemming made out that he knew nothing about firing on the boats, as he had not been at the fort, but that he had been sent by the king of the country to demand back some prisoners who had been taken while defending the territories of the said king against an unlawful attack made on them by the English boats. Also, there were some Spanish cavaliers, his honoured allies, who must be likewise restored to liberty: there were some slaves, too, who must be given up, or the king would visit the English with his intense displeasure.
The long rigmarole speech, of which this was the substance, would have made Hemming laugh on any other occasion. However, now he merely replied, “Listen. Tell the king, or whatever he calls himself, that the English are here to punish evildoers, to set slaves at liberty, to put a stop to the slave trade, to encourage commerce, and to prevent wars. If the people we have caught are found to be pirates, as such they will be hung. We keep no terms with people who, like him, support piracy and the slave trade.”
Hemming said something more to the same effect. The negro had, however, a last card to play which he fancied would win the game.
“Ah, then, if you kill our people, the king says he will kill a little officer we have of yours! His life may not be worth much, but he shall die.” The negro grinned horribly as he said this.
“If he does,” exclaimed Hemming furiously, “tell the king that we will never rest till we have pulled him off his throne and his town about his ears, and burnt up all his country. Now you have got my answer. Go.” Hemming wisely would not condescend to say another word after this. He knew pretty well how to treat such barbarians. The sable ambassador and his motley suite, finding that nothing more was to be got out of the English officer, took his departure. Scarcely had he gone, when a figure was seen to creep out from among some bushes in the neighbourhood. It proved to be the negro lad who had warned them of the black pilot’s intended treachery. He ran forward and threw himself at Hemming’s feet, showing every sign of delight at finding him again. Hemming at once thought of asking him about Jack. The very thing it proved he had come about. He had heard of him, had gone and discovered where he was shut up, and understood that his captors talked of killing him should any harm befall their people who had been taken prisoners.
Hemming felt sure that he might be fully trusted, so did Murray and Adair. They therefore explained their plan to him, and asked him to assist them. This he at once joyfully undertook to do. Very little change in their plan was necessary. He agreed to act as their guide. They were to assume the character of slave boys belonging to a distant tribe whom he was conducting to his uncle, a chief of some influence in the country, and who was secretly favourable to the English. Wasser, the negro lad, assured them that he was very glad they had not ventured to make the attempt by themselves, as their detection would have been almost certain. Hemming delayed as long as he could before embarking, and he promised to wait for Murray and Adair some way down the river while they went on their expedition. Their boat, with Dick Needham, their new friend Wasser, and three other picked men all well-armed, shoved off with the other boats, and soon darting in towards a sheltered nook, which, they had before observed, lay as they believed perfectly concealed from all passers by. Wasser, however, advised them to cut down boughs, and to fasten them in front of the boat. This they did, and, as Paddy observed, they could not desire to pass the day in a pleasanter way than in a shady bower with nothing to do and plenty to eat.
* * *
* * *
Chapter Sixteen.
The time passed slowly by while the Archer’s boat, with Murray, Adair, and Dick Needham aboard, and the young African lad Wasser, lay hid under the bank of the river, waiting for the time when they might sally forth to the rescue of Jack Rogers. Everybody was eager for the moment, for all longed to have him safe among them.
The day at length passed away, and after the party had taken a supper—for they well knew that nobody could work without food—as soon as Wasser thought it was safe, they issued forth from their leafy bower, and with rapid strokes pulled up the stream towards the fort which had been the scene of contest. Wasser remarked that none of the blacks would be venturing there at night, and that it would be the best place for the boat to remain at. Murray and Adair only landed. Needham had directions to wait for them till within an hour of daylight, and then, if they did not appear, to conclude that they were taken and to pull down as hard as he could to inform Mr Hemming, and to bring him up to their assistance.
Wasser led the way, Alick and Paddy following close after him. Little would any of their friends have recognised in the two half-naked blackamoor lads the neat midshipmen who were wont to walk the deck of Her Majesty’s Ship Ranger, in all the pride of blue cloth, gold-laced caps, and gilt buttons. Now, except a pair of scanty drawers, a shirt fastened round the waist with a piece of rope-yarn, and a tattered straw hat, clothes they had none. Their feet were tolerably hard, from the custom in which they indulged, in common with most midshipmen, of paddling about without shoes or stockings when washing decks. They were not, however, unarmed, for both of them had a brace of pistols and their dirks stuck in belts concealed by their shirts. It was curious also to see one of the despised negro race taking the lead, as Wasser did on the present occasion.
They landed close to the fort, when without hesitation he led the way inland, and then after a little time they found that they were going uphill. Up, up they went for a long distance, it seemed a mile or more, over a well-beaten path.
It was not so dark as it had been. The light was increasing; it was that of the rising moon. They found that they had arrived in front of some palisades. They formed the wall to the negro city. Wasser signified that they must get over it to see their friend, and conducted them to the left along the outside of the palisade. At last they got to a spot where he showed them that they might climb over, and whispered that there were no houses near whose inhabitants might discover them. The moon, as I was saying, was rising, so there was no time to be lost in reaching Jack’s prison before the light might render the approach more difficult. Cautiously they crept on under the shadow of the houses. The inhabitants appeared to be asleep. Now and then a dog barked, but they saw no one. At last, at the end of a street they came to an open space, in which stood a solitary hut. Wasser pulled up, and said, “Dere your friend.” How Alick’s and Paddy’s hearts longed to get at him! Their impulse was to run across the square and to let him out, but at that moment a sentry appeared from the other side of the hut with a musket on his shoulder. Though they did not fear the musket, they knew he might possibly let it off and alarm the town, so they stood under the dark shade of a wall, deliberating what was to be done. They watched him for some time, and ascertained that, like a clockwork figure, he always made the same round at the same pace.
“We shall have time to get across the square and to seize him before he makes his round,” observed Murray. Adair signified that he thought the same, as did Wasser.
“Then,” added Murray, “you and I, Paddy, will seize him, while Wasser lets Jack out of the prison, and he can come and help us bind and gag the sentry.”
“Now is our time,” whispered Murray. “One, two, three, and away!” Down the square they dashed at full speed. Paddy leaped like a wild man of the woods on a sudden on the astonished sentry’s back, and pressed his hand tightly over his mouth, while Murray grasped his musket, putting his hand on the pan, to prevent it going off (he need not have taken so much trouble, as it had no flint in it), while Wasser climbed up to the top of the hut, where he had ascertained there was a hole. It was his honest countenance Jack saw looking down upon him. Jack little thought all the time how near his friends were, and what essential service they were rendering him. Wasser put down his hand, and Jack catching it, Wasser, with a strong tug, enabled him to grasp some of the rafters. Jack very quickly was on the roof, and seeing two negro lads struggling with the sentry, guessing that they were in some way trying to serve him, leapt down to help them. The sentry had very little chance against four stout lads, and so they soon had him down and gagged, and dragged inside the hut.
“Now, run, run,” whispered Wasser, “no moment lose.”
Away they all ran as hard as they could pelt. They reached the palisade and began to scramble over it. Jack had not recognised any of his deliverers, but he was much obliged to the little black fellows for the help they had afforded him. Just then a dog barked, then a man’s voice was heard shouting, then another and another joined in the outcry. There could be no doubt that the town was aroused.
The wild hubbub in the negro town increased. The midshipmen and their sable ally had too much reason to fear that they should be captured. Wasser led the way over the palisade, Jack followed, Alick and Paddy brought up the rear. Jack had not yet discovered his friends, as in consequence of their dread of being discovered no one had spoken. Jack only thought that some negro lads, for some reason or other, had come to his assistance.
“Run, run!” cried Paddy, as they jumped down on the outside of the palisades. There was little necessity for his saying this though.
“Who are you?” exclaimed Jack, the truth breaking on him.
“Alick—Terence,” they answered.
“Oh, capital! just what I should have thought you’d have done, if I had fancied it possible,” said Jack. “Then let’s stop and fight them.”
“No, no,” said Wasser, “too many men come to fight. Run on, run on!” His advice was evidently the wisest, so run they did, and at a very great rate too. It was clear that by some means or other the sentry had made himself heard. He probably did not describe, in the most complimentary of terms, the people by whom he had been knocked down, gagged, and bound. Some horrible fetish had done it, that of course he believed and asserted. The blacks must have thought that their town was attacked, and very quickly tumbled up from their beds (they had not many clothes to don) and flew to their arms. Shots were heard in different quarters, and the previous stillness of the night was rudely broken by shouting and halloing of men, barking of dogs, and crying of children, and screaming of women to each other to enquire what it was all about. The noise, however, was not a thing to be much-dreaded. It showed that the negroes were awake, but it was also pretty evident that they had not yet begun the pursuit, so Jack and his companions thought. Wasser led them back into the chief pathway up the hill. There was no other by which they could reach the boat. They had, therefore, to pass very close again to the principal gate of the city. There was a great chance of their being seen as they did so. There was no help for it, so on they dashed. Never had any of them run faster in their lives, for they were running for their lives. Down the hill they went. They heard a shout; some men were rushing out of the gate of the city in pursuit.
“On, on—mans come—neber fear,” cried Wasser.
“I should think not,” observed Jack, but he did not slacken his speed. Their pursuers came on at a great rate. They knew the ground and their feet were accustomed to it. Alick and Paddy found theirs hurt horribly, while Jack, having on shoes, could not run as fast as the negroes; it was a long way to the boat. Happily, however, the path wound about a good deal, or probably their pursuers, who had arms, would have fired, that is to say, if the arms had locks and were loaded—slight points in which negro soldiers are not always very particular. The noise in their rear increased, and it appeared as if the whole population of the black city was streaming forth in chase of them. Wasser took the lead to show the way, and would probably have gone even faster than his companions. The shouts of the pursuers grew louder and louder; more than once Jack proposed to turn and stand at bay, but Wasser urged him on. That they must have been seen was very evident, and the appearance of three negroes in Jack’s company must have rather astonished their pursuers. The midshipmen were still some way ahead, when Paddy stumbled over the root of a tree, and down he came on his nose. His companions helped him up, and though he was much hurt he did his best to push on. Plucky Paddy, as he was called sometimes, was not likely to give in for such a trifle. The delay, however, was serious, for it enabled their enemies to gain ground on them, and every inch was of importance. On they went again; brave Wasser led the way most sagaciously, and yet only keeping just before them. This showed that he did not run fastest because he was most afraid, as is sometimes the case. Luckily they had to go down the hill instead of up it. At length they reached the bottom; still they had some way to go. The voices of their pursuers grew louder and louder. They fancied that they heard some Spaniards among them, uttering their usual horrid oaths. They knew that those wretches were far more barbarous than their black brethren. With the negroes they might have had some chance of escape, with the Spanish pirates none. On they went. They dared not look round. There was a sharp report of a pistol—a bullet flew by them. Another and another followed. Happily, as their pursuers were running, they could not take steady aim; still they were getting dreadfully near. Another enemy was added to the pursuers. The midshipmen heard the baying of a bloodhound. There could be no doubt about the sound. The brute was still at a distance though; probably let loose by some of the Spaniards not roused till late to join in the chase. Murray and Adair remembered their pistols, and it was a satisfaction to feel that they might possibly shoot him before they were torn to pieces. Not that the task would prove an easy one though. Just then appeared before them through the dark foliage a sheet of silvery hue; it was the river. The sight nerved their limbs afresh; they had need of something to encourage them. Scarcely thirty yards behind them came the savage rabble. The fugitives had difficulty to keep ahead of them. Fierce were the shouts of blacks and Spaniards, and more savage was the baying of the bloodhound. Paddy, who brought up the rear, could scarcely help shrieking out, for he felt the brute close at his heels. He cared much more for it than he did for the bullets. He was certain that in another moment the animal would have hold of his legs, when up there started, just in front of the fugitives, honest Dick Needham and two seamen, well-armed with muskets and cutlasses. Dick, springing forward, made a cut at the savage brute, which almost severed its head from its body, and then shouted, “Back, back, you villains, or we’ll blow you into the sky!” and then, in another tone, he cried out, “Run for the boat, young gentlemen, we’ll cover your retreat.” No one required to be told this a second time, and Needham and the seamen, facing the crowd of blacks, and firing as they retreated, kept the enemy completely at bay till the midshipmen and Wasser had reached the boat. They were not long in jumping in after them, and, shoving off, away they pulled, shouting with delight at their success, and leaving their enraged pursuers swearing and grinning with rage on the shore.
