Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop. Fenn George Manville

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Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop - Fenn George Manville

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young mister,” he said; “sleepy?”

      “No, not at all,” was the reply. “Good boy; that’s right; but if your skipper hadn’t been so tarnation ’spicious yew might have had a good snooze. Wall, lieutenant, I was just waiting to see you, and I didn’t want to hail for fear our slave-hunting friend might be on his deck and hear us. Talk about your skipper being ’spicious, he’s nothing to him. The way in which the sound of a shout travels along the top of the water here’s just wonderful, and my hail might spyle the hull business.”

      “But we’re not so near as that?” asked the lieutenant.

      “Ain’t we? But we jest are! See that there bit of a glimpse of the mountains straight below the moon?”

      “Yes,” said the lieutenant; “but I should have taken it for a cloud if you had not spoken.”

      “That’s it,” said the skipper; “that’s where the river winds round at the foot, and the quieter yewr people keep now the better. Oh yes, yewr skipper has knocked all my calc’lations on the head, I can tell yew. That there sloop sails A1, and she’s done much more than I ’spected.”

      “I’m glad of it,” said the lieutenant, while Murray’s spirits rose.

      “So’m I,” said the man, with a chuckle; “and now it’s turned out all right I don’t mind ’fessing.”

      “Confessing! What about?”

      “Why, this here,” said the man. “Your skipper had wasted so much time with his soundings and messing about that I says to myself that if I tried to see the business out our Portygee friend would see me mixed up with it all and take the alarm. Yewr sloop wouldn’t get near him, for he’d run right up the river where you couldn’t follow, and he’d wait his time till you’d gone away, and then come down upon me as an informer. D’you know what that would mean for me then?”

      “Not exactly,” replied the lieutenant, “but I can guess.”

      “Zackly,” said the man, and he turned sharply upon Murray and made a significant gesture with one finger across his throat.

      “Look here,” said the lieutenant, “don’t talk so much, my friend.”

      “That’s just what I want yew to go and tell your skipper, mister. Tell him to give orders that his men are not to say a word above a whisper, for if it’s ketched aboard the schooner our friend will be off.”

      “I will tell him,” said the lieutenant; “but now tell me what you mean to do?”

      “To do? Jest this; put your vessel just where she can lie low and send three or four boats to steal aboard the schooner and take her. Yew can do that easy, can’t yew, without firing a shot?”

      “Certainly,” said the lieutenant; “and what about you?”

      “Me? Get outer the way as fast as I can, I tell yew. I’m not a fighting man, and I’ve got to think of what might happen if you let the slaver slip. See?”

      “Yes, I see,” said the lieutenant; “but you need not be alarmed for yourself. Captain Kingsberry will take care that no harm shall befall you.”

      “Think so, mister?”

      “I am sure so, my friend. But now tell me this; how soon do you think that you can lay us abreast of that schooner?”

      “Jest when you like now, mister. What I’ve set down as being best is, 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

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