The Cruise of the Midge. Michael Scott

if so, all people will tink I mosh have been de mutineer, murserer you call, and dat to shave myself I was peach on dem.' My heart sink when de agitant seize me by de shoulder. 'My fine fellow, you make mosh noise—we shall see what you are make of very shortly yourself.—Here, secure Corporal Quacco.' By dis time we were again marching into de fort—de gate was shut—four field piece nine pounder, manned by white artillerymen, and load wid grape, were pointed so as to enfilade us as we were formed in close column, and my tree friend, and myself, were instantly brought to one drum-head court-martial.—Some young hofficer say, 'Oh, hang him all—hang him all.'—'Please not, young gentleman, if de same ting to you,' say I.—'No hurry,' say I—'I am willing to be hang if dese tree willains are not de men. Secure dem hands'—dis was done. 'Now,' say I, 'we were all sarve wid eight blank cartridge—look at dem muskets—plain dey all have been fire.'—'What has all dis to do wid it?' say de agitant.—'Mosh,' say I, 'mosh—now see how many cartridge each on dem hab.'—'Ha, ha,' say my captain—'Quacco is right.—Dem all tree hub each de eight cartridge untouch, yet it quite evident dey all hab fired.'—'What say you, ye scoundrels,' again say de captain—'what say you why you should not be hang immediately?' Dem would not speak one word—den I tell all I hear—and so dem try, find guilty, and were hang—and I as one reward got my discharge." (Here our friend made a long pause—at length he continued.) "Why I take him—I can't tell—and still more, why I leave dear Jamaica, where de governor hoffer me ground to grow nyam in, and house—and as for wife, I hab several. What de debil was possess me to leave my pig, and wives, and allowance—pension you call him—and take into my head for come here again?—Heaven know—I Quacco do not.—Here—where one can scarcely breathe for stinking mud, and every night brings dangers wid it, and you never can tell whidder de next morning shall not see you carried away into slavery, or may be sacrificed before one fetish; or who know dat he shall not, some fine forenoon, be roast or grill, and eaten like one monkey. Oh, I wish I was back again."

      "But," said Sprawl, "you seem to have left off as corporal—when became you serjeant?"

      Quacco laughed, "By brevet, my good sir—by bre"——

      "A gun—Sir Oliver speaking to us in the offing."

      "Hurrah for Old Gazelle once more!" shouted Sprawl, in a voice like thunder.

      "Out of my way, friend Quacco," cried I.

      "Room if you please, old Daddy Longyarn," quoth master Lanyard. And to the great dismay of poor Quacco, who little expected to have been so suddenly and unceremoniously swept aside, we all tumbled on deck as fast as our legs could carry us.

CHAPTER VI.

       Table of Contents

      THE FETISH—CROSSING THE BAR, AND

       DESTRUCTION OF THE SLAVER.

      The first man we encountered was Clinker, the master-at-arms.

      "Who has seen the frigate?" said Lanyard.

      "Why, there she is, sir," replied the man. "There, you see her topgallant sails over the green bushes there, sir. Now you see the heads of her fore and maintopsails."

      "I see, I see. What signal is that flying at the fore, Mr. Marline?" to the midshipman who was looking out.

      "The signal to close, sir."

      "Close," croaked old Sprawl—"close—easier said than done, Sir Oliver."

      "Like the Starling, 'we can't get out,'" quoth I.

      Here the frigate in the offing slowly and majestically shoved her long jib-boom past the mangroves on the westernmost bank, and gradually the whole beautiful machine hove in sight, rising and falling on the long swell.

      As she came round the point, she took in topgallant sails, and hauled down the foretopmast staysail; and whenever she had fairly opened the river, and come nearly abreast of us, she laid her maintopsail to the mast, with her fore and mainsails hanging in graceful festoons in the brails, and hove-to under her three topsails, jib, and spanker. She slid silently and majestically along; the bright green wave curling outwards from her beautifully moulded bows, like the shell-shaped canopy of Daddy Neptune's car, as the cut-water slid gently through the calm heaving of the blue swell, and gradually subsiding, as the glorious old hooker lost her way, and became stationary, when she floated, like a swan asleep on the dark waters, the bright sun shining cheerily on her white sails and hammocks and clear white streak, and sparkling on her glittering sides, as they rose and fell fresh and wet from the embraces of old Ocean; and as the land-breeze laid her over, her gold-bright copper blazed like one vast polished mirror, wherein the burning sun was reflected in dazzling glances. Bright blinding rays flashed out, starlike, from the window in the quarter gallery, and the glass in the scuttles of the officer's cabins, and from every burnished piece of metal throughout the whole length of the gallant craft, converting her black hull into a brilliant constellation; while her heavy lower masts, with their strong shrouds and stays, and the swelling sails, and the tall and taper spars aloft, were seen clear and distinct against the deep blue of the seaward horizon.

      As we looked, the frigate hauled down the jib, and brailed up the spanker. A string of small round bundles, apparently each about the size of a man's head, now twisted and struggled, and stopped, and finally slid up to the main royal-mast-head. The instant the uppermost reached the truck, as if it had touched a spring—bang—a gun was fired, and at the same moment the round balls blew out steadily in so many flags.

      "What signal now, Mr. Marline?"

      "The signal to weigh and stand out, sir."

      "Why, we can't; it is impossible: although the wind is fair, the swell on the bar puts it out of our power."

      "Very true," said old Pumpbolt; "and you had better say so, Lanyard. I, for one, won't undertake to carry you over until there is less broken water at the river's mouth, I know."

      The lieutenant commanding the felucca telegraphed to this effect; the frigate acknowledged it, and answered, that she would remain in the offing all night in expectation of our getting over at high water, when possibly there would be less sea on the bar.

      Having made this signal, she run her jib up, set topgallant-sails, and let fall the foresail: the ponderous mainyard slowly swung round, and as the noble frigate fetched way again, she gradually fell off before the wind; her long low hull fore-shortened into a mere tub of a vessel to look at, and finally presenting her stern to us, she lay over, inclining herself gracefully to the breeze, as if she was bidding us farewell, and glided cheerily away; indicating by the increasing whiteness of her wake, the accelerated speed with which she clove the heaving billows.

      "There goes the dear old beauty," said Davie; "there's a retiring curtsy for you that beats the stateliest of my lady patronesses at Almacks."

      Having gained an offing of about three miles, she again shortened sail, and hove to in her station to await our joining, when the bar became passable in the night.

      "Weary work, master Benjie—weary work," said Davie Doublepipe; "so here we must lie, roasting another whole day, while there is plenty of water on the bar, if that confounded swell would only fall."

      By this it was drawing near the men's dinner-time; and while the lieutenant and I were pacing the deck, rather disconsolately, trying to steer clear of the smoke of the galley, that streamed aft as we rode head to wind, we noticed that our sable visitor, Serjeant Quacco, had, with the true spirit of resignation, declined into cook's mate (indeed, if there be a Negro on board when this birth becomes vacant, he invariably slides into it, as naturally as a snail into his shell), and was busy in assisting the maimed seaman who was watching the coppers. The fire seemed to burn very indifferently from the greenness of the wood, which gave out more smoke than flame.

      "Drainings, my man," said Lanyard to cookey, "don't choke us, if you please. Do get some dry chips from Shavings, will you?"

      "Ay,