The Noank's Log Part 20

"Slaver?" exclaimed Captain Avery. "Bless my soul! We've nothing to do with men-stealers. I don't want any such prize as that, even if it's an Englishman. I wouldn't take a slave cargo into port."

"Nor I, either," said the steersman. "We're not in that trade."

Nearer and nearer, now, the strange craft was drawing, from the opposite tack. The men below had heard the yell of Coco and the Manhattan's warwhoop, and were tumbling up on deck in search of information. Their comments were various as they heard the remarkable announcement.

"Not a doubt of it, Lyme," said Sam Prentice to the captain, after a whiff of the wind from the stranger. "They're slave thieves. I always heard tell that a slave-s.h.i.+p could smell worse'n anything else. I say we ought not to try to do anything with her. Let her go!"

"Of course we will," said the captain; "but we'll speak her. Here she comes."

In a few minutes more the two s.h.i.+ps were within hailing distance.

"What brig's that?" asked Avery.

"Slaver _Yara_, Captain Lis...o...b.. Congo River to Cuba," came back with all cheerfulness. "What schooner's that?"

"American privateer, _Noank_, Captain Avery. We don't want you. How many on board?"

"We've only lost about a third of 'em on the pa.s.sage," came jauntily back from the _Yara_. "We shall land over two hundred good ones.

First-rate luck! Last trip we lost more'n half by getting stuck in a calm. How's your luck? Are you taking anything worth while?"

It was precisely as if a prosperous merchant, engaged in what he considered an honorable, legitimate business, were exchanging trade politeness with another merchant in a somewhat similar line.

"We're not long out," replied Captain Avery. "We've done fairly well, though. We sunk a West India picaroon to-day."

"Did you? That's a good thing to do. Glad you did," said the slaver, heartily. "Those chaps annoy even us African traders. They stopped me twice last year, and took away dozens of my best pieces, men and women.

The rascals said they were collecting their import duties. Sink 'em all!"

He was so near, by this time, that the bright moonlight gave them a pretty good view of him. He did not seem to be by any means a bad-looking fellow, and it was only too evident that he was either an American or Englishman of good education. He asked for the latest news politely, and then he declared concerning the existing difficulties between King George Third and his American colonies:--

"You chaps have more interest in that affair than I have. If you're not all shot or hung, you'll make fortunes out of it, if it goes on long enough. Privateering sometimes pays better than slaving. All you need be afraid of, except the king's cruisers, is too sudden an end of the war. That would ruin all your business at once. The war hasn't hurt us, to speak of. Our market is as good as ever it was; we can sell all we can bring over."

The _Noank_ was sweeping on and there could be no more exchange of news or opinions with Captain Lis...o...b..

He was evidently a man without the prejudices of other men. He could see only the money side of the war for American independence, and he took it for granted that a privateersman would look at it in precisely that way. At least one of the crew of the _Noank_ was not in agreement with him, for Coco was as furious as ever.

"Ole Coco stuck in slaver hold, once," he snarled tigerishly. "No water. Iron on hand, on foot. Hot like oven. Most of 'em die. Some go bline. Some get kill. Not many left. Sell Coco in Cuba. Whip him. Burn him. Make him work hard. Ole brack man got away, though.

Big fire 'bout that time. Planter lose he house. Kidd men better'n slaver men. All the same, anyhow."

"Isn't that awful!" was all that Guert could think or say.

"Boy fool!" growled Coco. "Captain Avery all wrong. He let 'em go.

Better take 'em."

"What could he do with all those slaves if he took 'em?" asked Guert.

"What he do with 'em?" replied Coco, with some surprise. "Drown slaver, not brack fellers. Sell 'em all. Make pile o' money."

"He wouldn't do that," said Guert.

"Then go ash.o.r.e in Cuba," persisted the old Ashantee. "Buy sugar plantation. Have he slaves all for nothing. That's what Coco think.

He do it, quick. All African chief have plenty slave. Make 'em work, kill 'em, do what he please."

The fierce anger of the grim old African, therefore, had been aroused by a memory of his own sufferings and not by any sentimental notions concerning human rights. He saw no evil whatever in the mere owning of slaves. Very much like him in that respect, to tell the truth, were most of his Yankee friends. Slave-holding had not yet been abolished in the northern American colonies any more than in the southern. The great movement for the abolition of all property in human beings came a long time afterward. Nevertheless, even then, a strong odium was beginning to attach to the business of catching black men for the market, and the cause of this feeling was mainly the cruel and wasteful manner in which the business was carried on. The gathering of slaves in Africa for export purposes was understood to be exceedingly murderous, and too many of the captives died on s.h.i.+pboard from barbarous ill-treatment.

Away had swung the badly smelling _Yara_ upon her intended course. Her polite captain had bowed as she did so, his last farewell expressing his wish that his privateer acquaintances might have good luck and make money. If he were indeed an Englishman, he had no narrow, national feeling concerning business matters.

"Sam Prentice!" exclaimed Captain Avery. "I was glad to be rid of 'em.

They're only another kind of pirate, anyhow. I believe that feller'd send up the black flag any day, if it was safe,--and if he could make money by it."

"Lyme," replied his mate, "don't you know that slave catchers do fly the skull and bones every now and then, in the far seas? They're none too good to scuttle a s.h.i.+p and make her crew walk the plank."

"I've heard so," said the captain, "but we hadn't any duty to do by 'em, jest now. What we want to do is to sight a British flag on a craft that doesn't carry too many guns for us. Port your helm, there!"

CHAPTER XI.

A DANGEROUS NEIGHBORHOOD.

"So! You report that you were chased by some enemy? I've read it--I've read the commodore's letter. What were you chased by, sir?"

"I can't be sure what they were, sir. I took them for privateers. The first of 'em gave me a shot my fourth day out. Another followed me three days later. Peppered at me for an hour at long range. Both times I escaped 'em in the night."

"I'm glad you did! I think the commodore is right about you, sir.

Take your own course, always. Be ready to take the _Termagant_ across again as soon as she's loaded."

"Repairs, sir," said Captain Watts, for the dignified officer before whom he stood was the port admiral in command of the British port of Liverpool. "Foremast sprung, sir. She wants a new maintopmast.

She'll need all her spars, or I'm mistaken. If I'm to be in her she'll use her canvas, sir. I've no fancy for falling again into the clutches of the rebels."

"They might hang you this time, eh?" said the admiral, pleasantly, as if that were a bit of a joke. "They might, indeed. Send in your requisitions; you shall have your repairs. I'll order them at once.

Now, sir, is there anything else?"

"Yes, sir," said Watts; "I wish to report what I heard concerning rebel privateers and new provincial cruisers. That is, it may all be already reported."

"Heave ahead!" interrupted the admiral. "Tell what you've heard. Your news is as likely to be correct as any other. Go on, sir."

"It's the old story o' the rats and the cheese, sir," said Luke. "The bigger the cheese, the more the rats. Our trade's the fat they mean to cut into, sir. I heard o' rebel privateers fittin' out all along the New England coast. They told me o' some in North Carolina, out o' the Neuse River. Some from Virginny, up the Potomac and the James. Some down in South Carolina and Georgia; but I can't say but what as bad as any are comin' out o' the Chesapeake and the Delaware. What we're goin' to need is more light cruisers off the Irish coast, sir, and in the channels."

"Ha, ha!" laughed the great official. "The Yankee pirates'll never show themselves on this coast. Go now; we can pick 'em up as fast as they come."

Captain Luke Watts had kept his word to the British authorities. He had piloted the _Termagant_ safely into her harbor. He was, therefore, above and beyond any possible suspicions as to his loyalty. There was nothing to prevent him from delivering, not only his packages of valuable furs, but also any other parcels which he had brought with him from America.

"All right!" he said to himself, as he swung out of the port admiral's office. "They'll know better one o' these days. I'm glad to be told, though, that they mean to remain off their guard till they're waked up.

I wish they'd send a few more o' their best s.h.i.+ps somewhere else.

Captain Lyme Avery and a lot more like him are coming this way pretty soon."

He was only halfway correct in that a.s.sertion, for Captain Avery and the _Noank_ were not just then in shape to sail for England. After their noteworthy adventures with pirates and slavers, there had been many hours of plain sailing, in company with the rescued _Santa Teresa_. The second morning was well advanced when the two vessels found themselves only a mile or so outside of the ample harbor of Porto Rico. They had also tacked within speaking distance of each other.