Читать книгу The Cruise of the Midge (Historical Novel) - Michael Scott - Страница 14

I had scarcely, to my conception, been asleep at all, when I was called again. "If ever I practise the calling of a pilot in this wide world after this!" said I to myself as I stumbled, yawning and stretching, about the confined cabin.

It might have been about eleven at night when I got on deck. There was a heavy ground-swell tumbling in upon us over the bar, which made the little vessel pitch violently.

"See all clear to cut away the kedge," said I.

But there was no need; for the swell that rolled in was as yet deep, dark, and unbroken. I looked forth into the night, endeavouring by the starlight, for the moon was obscured by a thick bank of clouds in the eastern horizon, to distinguish the whereabouts of the bar at the river's mouth, but all was black flowing water, and there was no sound of breakers; so I again went below, and in a minute slept as sound as before.

I cannot precisely say how long I had been in the land of dreams, when I was again roused by the steward calling Mr. Lanyard.

"Mr. Wadding"—this was the gunner of the little vessel—"does not like the look of the weather, sir; it has become somewhat threatening, and the felucca is riding very uneasy since the tide has turned, sir."

The sharp jerking motion of the small craft corroborated the man's account but too forcibly; and once more I went on deck, accompanied by the lieutenant, where I was a good deal startled by the scene before me. The ebb-tide was now running down, and past us like a mill-stream; and the bar, which a couple of hours before was all black and undistinguishable, began now to be conspicuous, from a crescent of white waves which shone even through the darkness; while a deep and increasing hoarse murmur, "like thunder heard remote," was borne up the river towards us on the night wind. The foaming breakers on the bar, as the tide continued to fall, spread out; and in an hour, the rush of the tide downwards, and the tumble of the sea inwards, placed us, even at the distance of our anchorage, in a regular cauldron of broken water, where the little craft was knocked about as if she belonged to nobody, while every moment I expected the cable to part.

It was a regular snow-storm; the swell, broken on the bar, roared into the river in splashing waves, which, when the downward current dashed against them, flew up in spouts, covering every thing with spray, that was puffed away seaward like smoke by the sharp land-breeze which had suddenly set down, counter-checking in a moment the regular easterly trade-wind. The little vessel was thus kicked here and yerked there, as if it had been a cork in the midst of the bubbling of a boiling pot. Oh! how I longed for daylight! At length daylight came, and the sun began to exhale the dank pestiferous vapours that towards grey dawn had once more mantled over the water.

For an hour it was again so thick that we could see nothing in the direction of the bar; but the noise of the breakers continued to increase; and as the boats alongside were by this time, notwithstanding all our endeavours, half full of water, I feared that, even when the tide began to answer again, we should be unable to send one of them down to sound; so there we lay in the miserable consciousness of having been foiled in our object on the one hand, and with small prospect of being able to get out to rejoin the frigate on the other. At length, towards seven o'clock, the mist rose; the unwholesome smell of mud, and slime, and putrifying vegetables was no longer perceptible, and the glorious sun once more shone on the broad expanse of rushing waters. The mangrove-covered banks became again distinctly visible and well-defined, and the horizon seaward began to look blue, clear, and cheery. But all this while the bar was one bow of roaring foam; that increased as the sea-breeze freshened, and fairly stifled the terral, until there was not one solitary narrow streak of blue water in the whole breadth of the river's mouth.

Dick was pacing the deck in no small perplexity I saw, debating in his own mind whether or not he should send below and rouse out Mr. Sprawl, when the surgeon passed me.

"Good morning, doctor."

He returned the salute.

"How are all the wounded this morning?"

"All doing well, sir."

"And Lennox, how is he?"

The doctor laughed.

"Oh, all right with him now, sir; but the poor fellow is awfully ashamed at the exhibition his messmates have told him he made yesterday. He is much better, however; and I hope will be out of his hammock this forenoon, if the weather keeps fine."

I had a sort of anxiety to know, from my own observation, how the poor fellows were getting on; so I followed our friend, and descended with him in his visit to the sick and hurt.

Almost the first man I spoke to was Lennox.

"Glad to find you so much better, my man; I hope you feel yourself stronger this morning?"

A faint blush spread over the poor fellow's thin wasted features, and he hesitated in his answer. At length he stammered out—"Thank you, sir; I am much better, sir."

"Who is that blocking up the hatchway?"' said the doctor, as some dark body nearly filled the entire aperture.

Presently the half-naked figure of Serjeant Quacco descended the ladder. He paid no attention to me, or any body else; but spoke to some one on deck in the Eboe tongue, when his wife appeared at the coamings of the hatchway, hugging and fondling the identical and most abominable little graven image we had seen in the fetish hut, as if it had been her child—her own flesh and blood. She handed it down to the black Serjeant, who placed it in a corner, nuzzling, and rubbing his nose all over it, as if he had been propitiating the tiny Moloch by the abjectness of his abasement. I was curious to see how Lennox would take all this, but it produced no effect: he looked with a quizzical expression of countenance at the figure for some time, and then lay back in his hammock, and seemed to be composing himself to sleep. I went on deck, leaving the negro and his sable helpmate below amongst the men, and was conversing with Mr. Sprawl, who had by this time made his appearance; when we were suddenly startled by a loud shriek from the negress, who shot up from below, plunged instantly overboard, and began to swim with great speed towards the shore. She was instantly followed by our friend the serjeant, who for a second or two looked forth after the sable naiad, in an attitude as if the very next moment he would have followed her. I hailed the dingy Venus—"Come back, my dear—come back." She turned round with a laughing countenance, but never for a moment hesitated in her shoreward progress.

"What sall become of me!" screamed Serjeant Quacco—"Oh, Lord, I sail lose my vife—debil fetch dem sailor buccra—cost me feefty dallar—Lose my vife I—dat de dam little fetish say mosh be save. Oh, poor debil dat I is I"—and here followed a long tirade in some African dialect, that was utterly unintelligible to us.

"My good fellow, don't make such an uproar, will ye?" said I. "Leave your wife to her fate: you cannot better yourself if you would die for it."

"I don't know, massa; I don't know. Him cost me feefty dallar. Beside, as massa must have seen, him beautiful! oh, very beautiful!—and what you tink dem willain asore will do to him? Ah, massa, you can't tell what dem will do to him?"

"Why, my good man, what will they do?"

"Eat him, massa, may be; for dey look on him as one who now is enemy—dat is, dey call me enemy, and dey know him is my vife—Oh, Lord—feefty dallar—all go, de day dem roast my vife."

I could scarcely refrain from laughing; but on the instant the poor fellow ran up to the old quartermaster, who was standing near the mast, admiring the construction of the canoe—as beautiful a skiff, by the way, as was ever scooped out of tree. "Help me, old man; help me to launch de canoe. I must go on sore—I must go on sore."

The seaman looked at me—I nodded; and, taking the hint, he instantly lent Blackie a hand. The canoe was launched overboard, and the next moment Serjeant Quacco was paddling after his adored, that had cost him fifty dollars, in double-quick time.

He seemed, so far as we could judge, to be rapidly overtaking her, when the little promontory of the creek hid them from our view; and under the impression that we had seen the last of him, I began to hug myself in the hope of getting over the bar that forenoon. An hour might have elapsed, and all remained quiet, except at the bar, and even there the thunder and hissing of the breakers began to fail. As the tide made, Lanyard saw all ready to go to sea; but I was soon persuaded, that, from the extreme heaviness of the ground swell that rolled in, there was no chance of our extricating ourselves until the evening at the soonest, or it might be next morning, when the young ebb would give us a lift; so we were walking up and down, to while away the time, when poor Lennox, who had by this time come on deck, said, on my addressing him, that he had seen small jets of white smoke rise up from among the green mangroves now and then; and although he had not heard any report, yet he was persuaded they indicated musket-shots.

"It may all be as you say, Lennox; but I hope we shall soon be clear of this accursed river, and then they may blaze away at each other as much as they please."

The words were scarcely out of my mouth, when we not only saw the smoke, but heard the rattle of musketry, and presently a small black speck shot rapidly beyond the headland or cape, that shut in our view, on the larboard side, up the river.

On its nearer approach, we soon perceived that it was our friend Quacco once more, in his small dory of a canoe, with the little fetish god stuck over the bow; but there was no appearance of his wife.

As he drew closer to the vessel, the man appeared absolutely frantic. He worked and sculled away with his paddle as if he had been mad; and when at last he got on deck, having previously cast the little horrible image up before him, he began to curse and to swear, at one moment in the Eboe tongue, at another in bad Creole English, as if he had been possessed with a devil—

"Hoo chockaro, chockaro, soo ho—Oh, who could tink young woman could hab so mosh deceit!—Ah, Queykarre tol de rot jig tootle too—to leave me Quacco, and go join dem Eboe willain!" Then, as if recollecting himself—"But how I do know dat dem no frighten him for say so? Ah, now I remember one ogly dag stand beside him hab long clear knife in him hand. Oh, Lord! Tooka, Tooka—Cookery Pee Que—Ah, poor ting! dem hab decoy him—cheat him into dem power—and to-morrow morning sun will see dem cook him—ay, and eat him. Oh dear, dem will eat my vife—oh, him cost me feefty dallar—eat my feefty dallar—oh Kickereboo—Rotan!"

And straightway he cast himself on the deck, and began to yell and roll over and over, as if he had been in the greatest agony. Presently he jumped on his legs again, and ran and laid hold of the little graven image. He caught it up by the legs, and smashed its head down on the hard deck. "You dam fetish—you false willain, dis what you give me for kill fowl, eh? and tro de blood in you face, eh? and stick fedder in you tail, eh? and put blanket over you shoulder when rain come, and night fog roll over we and make you chilly? What you give me for all dis? You drive me go on board dam footy little Englis cruiser, and give my vife, cost me feefty dallar, to be roast and eat? Oh, Massa Carpenter, do lend me one hax;" and seizing the tool, that had been brought on deck and lay near him, he, at a blow, split open the fetish's head, and continued to mutilate it, until he was forcibly disarmed by some of the men that stood by him.

After this the poor savage walked doggedly about the deck for a minute or two, as if altogether irresolute what to do; at length he dived suddenly below.

"Breakfast is ready, sir," said the boy who acted the part of steward; and Lanyard, having asked me to accompany him, descended to do the honours to his company—rather a large party, by the way, for the size of the small cabin.

We all made the best use of our time for a quarter of an hour; at length little Binnacle broke ground.

"We have been hearing a curious history of this black fellow, sir."

"What was it? Little good of him you could have heard, I should have thought," quoth Sprawl.

"Why, no great harm either," said young De Walden, who now chimed in, with his low, modest, but beautifully pitched voice—"We have had his story at large, sir, this morning, after the decks were holystoned and washed down."

"Come, Master De Walden, give it us then," said I.

"Beg pardon, sir," said the beautiful boy, "no one can do justice to it but himself."

"Shall I call him, sir?" said Mr. Marline.

I looked enquiringly at old Davie Doublepipe, as much as to say, Are those boys quizzing us now? "What say you, Sprawl, eh?"

"Why not, man—why not?" replied my excellent coadjutor. "If it were only to amuse the lads, surely there is no harm in it. But here, give me another cup of coffee—and, Master Marline, the wing of that spitchcock chicken, if you please—Why, Brail, if nothing else thrives in that most damnable Sierra Leone, fowls do."

While the lieutenant was employed in completing his stowage—no regular Stevedor could have gone more scientifically about it—little Binnacle ushered in our dark friend. What a change in his outward man! Where he had got his garments heaven knows, but there was the frantic barbarian of half an hour ago, newly and freshly rigged in a clean pair of duck trowsers, canvass shoes, and a good check shirt, with his never-failing black belt slung across his right shoulder, and supporting the rusty bayonet, already mentioned. He drew himself up at the door, soldier fashion, and put his hand to his cap. The light from the small scuttle above shone down strong on his tatooed countenance, and lit up his steady bronze-like features. I waited in expectation of his speaking. But the talkative savage of yesterday evening had now subsided into the quiet orderly soldier.

"I say, Serjeant Quacco," at length quod Davie Doublepipe, as he finished his ham, and swallowed his last cup of coffee, "we have been hearing from these young gentlemen that you have a story to tell; have you any objections to oblige us with it again?"

This flourish of trumpets was lost on poor Quacco. He stared vacantly, first at one, and then at the other, but remained silent.

"What you tell dem young gentlemen about who you is?" said I.

"Oh," promptly rejoined Serjeant Quacco, "is dat de ting massa dere want to know? I shall tell him over again, if massa choose, but it is one very foolis story."

"Never mind," said I, "let us have it again, by all means."

The poor fellow, after endeavouring to look as serious as possible, and giving sundry hems and haws, and looking unutterable things, as if in doubt whether we were in jest or no, began his story.

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SERJEANT QUACCO.

"Gentlemen," began our dark friend, "I tink it very proper dat you read dis certificate before I say more—proper you should be perswade dat I was one person of consequence, before we proceed farder." Whereupon he handed a small flat tin box to Davie Doublepipe.

"Read, Sprawl," said I—"read."

The lieutenant took off the lid, and produced a ragged piece of paper, which, after some trouble in deciphering, he found to contain the following words:—

"I certify, that the bearer, Corporal Quacco, late of H.M. ——West India regiment, has received his discharge, and a free passage to the coast of Africa, whither he has desired to return, in the first of his Majesty's ships that may touch here, belonging to that station; in consequence of his gallantry and faithful conduct during the late mutiny, wherein Major D—— unfortunately lost his life." I forget the name and rank of the officer who signed it.

"So you see, gentlemen, dat I is Kin's hofficer same as youselves, although on the retired list. Let me tell what you shall hear now. Twenty year ago, I was catch in de Bonny river, and sold to one nice captain from Livapool. He have large ship, too much people in him—a tousand—no—but heap of people. He was nice man, until him get to sea—was debil den—cram we into leetle, small, dam dirty hole—feed we bad—small time we get to breath de fresh air on deck, and plenty iron on we legs, and clanking chain on we neck, and fum, fum—dat is floggee—I sall not say where. But soon we come widin two week of West Indy—ho! food turn wery much better—we get more air—palm oil sarve out to we, to make we skin plump and nice.

"So, to make one long story short, we arrive at Jamaica, and ten of de best-looking of we"—(here the black serjeant drew himself up)—"were pick out—select, you call—by one hofficer, and dat day we were marshed to Fort Augusta, to serve his Majesty as soldiers in de grenadier company of de—— West India regiment. Long time pass over. We all pick up de Englis language—some better, some worser; for all peoples cannot expect to pronounce him so well as Serjeant Quacco."

"Certainly not," said Sprawl.

"And we drill, drill, drill, every day, and marsh and countermarsh, and wheel and halt, until we are quite proficient. I was now one corporal. Cat never touch my back;—never get dronk—dat is, except I know I can lie in hammock widout neglect my duty until I get sober again. My captain say, I was de best man in de company—and I tink so too myself, so de captain must have been right; and some good mans were amongst we, gentlemen—ah, and some wery bad ones also.

"We were, on a certain day, to have great inspection; so de fag, and work, and drill, become double for some time before we expect de general. De idle dogs say, 'What use dis? we quite perfect; no white regiment can manoeuvre better den we.' But I say, 'Never mind, will soon be over, so rest content.'—'Ah,' say one bitter bad fellow—Ogly Jack, dem call him—not wery genteel name, gentlemen, but can't help dat—'Ah,' say Jack, 'if de rest of de regiment was like me, you should see! Soon we should have our own way; and plenty tousand of de poor field-people would soon join us.'—'Ho, ho!' say I, Quacco, 'mutiny dis;—bloody murder and sudden death dis is;—so, Master Ogly Jack, I shall take de small liberty to wash you.' However, de inspection pass over; noting particular happen until de evening, about nine o'clock. De tattoo beat done long time, and I was eating my supper, at de end of de long gallery of de easternmost barrick, wery comfortable; looking out on de white platform below, where de sentries were walking backward and forward, singing negro song; de clear arms every now and den sparkling bright, cold, and blue, in de moonlight; and den I look beyond all dis out upon de smoot shining water of de harbour, which stretch away, bright as polished silver, until it end in de lights at Port Royal, and on board of de men of war, at anchor under de batteries dere, dat twinkle and wanish, twinkle and wanish, until de eye rest on de spark at de flag-ship's mizen-peak, dat shone steady as one Wenus star. Suddenly I start—'What is dat?' I say, for I see canoe steal gently along; de paddle seem of velvet, for no noise it make, none at all. Presently de parapet hide him, and de two peoples I sees in de canoe, from Quacco's sight. 'How de sentry don't hail?' say I, Quacco—'What it can mean he don't hail?' again say I. But, just as I tink about de wonder of dis, one loud laugh of de young buccra officer come from de mess-house, and I say, 'Ah ha! de claret begin to work dere—de brandy and water begin to tell; so I will take my grog too, and turn in.'—'Hillo!' I say again; for just at dis time I hear one footstep behind me; 'who go dere?' No one speak for long time; but I see one person, wid him head just above de level of de gallery, standing on de stair. I seized my fuzee. 'Come up, whoever you is.'—'Ha, ha!' laugh some one. 'What, broder Quacco, are you afeard? don't you know me Jack? You know we are countrymen: so here I have brought you a drop of grog.'—'Oh ho!' say I Quacco, 'Jack, is it you? Come in; I shall strike a light.'—'No, no,' say Jack; 'I don't want de oder men to see I am here.' I tink dis wery strange, but I say noting. All quiet; de rest of my company were at de oder side of de barrick, most of dem in der hammock already, and I was not wery fond to be alone wid Jack after what I overhear. Yet de grog was very good. I take anoder pull; it grew better, so I take one small drop more. 'Now, Jack,' say I, 'no offence, but you must know I tought you were leetle better den one big dam rogue; but I begin to tink'—(here him smile quite pleasant, and give me oder small drop)—'dat you are not quite so big willain as I was led to believe; so shake hands.' He held out him's large paw, and say he, 'Oh, I know, Quacco, dat some one was prejudice you against me; but, never mind, I know of some fun going on. Ah, handsome black girls dere, Quacco, and Mundingo Tom, and Yellow-skin Paul, so come along.'—'Come along?' say I, Quacco; 'where de debil you want me to go at dis time of night? De gate all shut; can't come.' Here him laugh loud again. Oh, if dat Ogly Jack had only had white face, I would have tought he was de wery debil himself. 'De gate shut?' say he, 'to be sure de gate is shut; but come here, man, come here;'—and now I was sure he was Obeah man, for I had no power to stay behind—something seem draw me. Massa, you hab all see snake wheedle leetle bird into him jaw, and just so dis dam Jack work on me, Quacco. To be sure de rum was wery good, wery good indeed; so I follow him down stair, and as we pass dat part of de barrick where de grenadier were, we meet two tree men; but no notice take dem of we; so we go down to de esplanade. All still dere but de loud 'Ha, ha!' from de mess-room, where de band was play, and wax-lights shine. No one else stir, except sentry over de big heap of shell—one large pile of ten, twelve, tirteen inch shell dat was heap up in de middle of de fort—so we turn to de left, and ascend de platform. 'Who go dere?' sing out de sentry, as him walk backward and forward between de two gun facing we; 'Who go dere?' say he. Jack spring forward to de sentry, and say something. I could not hear what he whisper; but, though I speak never one word, de man mediately say, 'Pass, friend!' and den him stomp away in de oder direction from where we was. Jack now take hold of my hand—'No time for lost; so come along, broder Quacco.' I hold me back. 'Ah ha!' say I, 'show me de cause for all dis, Massa Jack.' 'And so Jack shall,' him say—'but come here, man, come here;' and he lead me into de embrazure of one long four-and-twenty; and taking one good strong rope out of de muzzle of de gun, where him seem to have been stow on purpose, him make one loop in him and hook him over de leetle nose dat stick out from de breech of him behind. 'Now, Quacco, I know you is clever fellow; so warp yourself down by dis rope—dere is no wet ditch here—so down you go, and'——'Gently,' say I, 'where we go to?—tell a me dat.'—'I will,' say he, 'but de night air chill, so here take anoder drop'—and, lord, we have de oder pull at de case bottle. Him puff one long puff after him drink.—'I see you suspicious wid me still,' him say, 'but only come de length of de old hut in de cashaw bush dere, and you shall see I is true man.'—Here I stand back leetle piece to remember myself—but he would give me no time to tink none at all—'You coward fellow, come along,' say Jack—'here go me.'—Wid dat him let himself down by de rope.—'Coward! nay, me is no coward—so here go me Quacco'—and down I slid after him. We reach de bottom. 'Now follow me,' say Jack. Presently we come to de hut in de wood, but many a time I look back to see de glance of de sentry musket before him fire; but no one so much as hail we—so we walk, or rader run, along de small path, troo de cashaw bushes dat lead to de hut—de moonshine flicker, flicker on de white sandy path, troo de small leaf of de cashaw, no bigger as, and wery like, de leaf of de sensitive plant.—Ah, Massa Brail,"—I was smiling here—"I know him name—I know de sensitive plant—often get tenpence from young buccra hofficer to hunt him out for him, and? indeed, I know where whole acres of him grow in Jamaica. But you put me out, Massa Brail—where I was?—oh—de moonshine shine bright and clear, and de lizard whistle wheetle, wheetle, and de tree-toad snore, and de wood-cricket chirp, and de beetle moan past we, and de bat whir, and de creech howl squake—So tink I, I wish I was once more in de barrick—but no help for it. Presently we were in front of de hut. Small black ogly hut him was—no light could be seen in him—at least none shine below de door—and dere was never no window in him none at all. Jack stop, and put him hand to de latch. I lay hold of him arm. I say, 'Massa Jack, is dis de hut you speak of, and dis de pleasant peoples I was to see, and de nice black girls, eh?'—'Stop,' say he, 'don't judge until you see—but come in, man, come in.'—I go in, but Jack was close de door instantly behind him. 'Hilo, what mean you by dat?' say I, 'you go leave me here widout fire?'—'Poo,' say he, 'fire? you shall soon have enough.' Wid dat him strike one light, den light some chip, and presently him tro someting on de fire, dat make it blaze up into one large blue flame dat make every ting look wery disagreab—oh, mosh wery. Jack sit down—he take piece roast pork, some yam, and some salt fis out of de crown of him shako—we eat—de rum bottle soon not heavy too much in de hand—and I forget, sinner dat I is, dat I should hab been in my bed in de barrick in de fort—so Jack, after poke de fire again, say, 'Quacco, broder Quacco; as I say before, we is countrymen—bote Eboe, is we?'—'Yes,' say I, 'we is Eboe, but we were wery different peoples in de Eboe country. You know, Jack, dat I was poor debil whose fader and moder was kill and carry away by dese dam Felatahs and'"——

Here friend Dick interrupted the thread of our friend Quacco's tale. "I say, serjeant, you are speaking of Felatahs—we have heard much of them on the coast—who and what are they, my man?"

"I shall tell massa," said Serjeant Quacco. "Dam troublesome fellow dem Felatah—never stay at home—always going about fighting here—stealing dere. You go to bed—hear de pig in de oder end of your hut grunt quite comfortable—you wake—him gone—'ah, Felatah must have been dere.' You hab only two wife, so you go into market—bazar, de Moorish people call him—you buy anoder leetle wife, because maybe one of de two grow old, and de oder grow stupid maybe; well, you bring de leetle wife home—nice leetle person—you tell him de story how Felatah come, while you sleep, and tief pig—ha, ha—you laugh, and he laugh, and you drink small piece of tody, after nyam supper, and go werry merry to bed—ho—you wake next morning—debil—him gone too well as de pig—de leetle wife gone—oh, lord—'sure as can be, Felatah must be dere.' And your bag of cowrie never safe—every ting dat cursed Felatah can lay him fist on, him grab—de Livapool ship people call him Scotchman."

"Don't tell that part of your story in the hearing of Corporal Lennox, friend Quacco," said I, laughing.

He grinned, and proceeded. "I say to Jack, 'I was catch when I was leetle naked fellow by de Felatahs, wid my fader and moder, and carry off to dem country, and afterward sell for slave; but you was great man always—big fetish priest you was—many fetish you make in your time; you kill goat and pig before de fetish.'—'Ay,' said Jack, 'and maybe, Quacco, I kill oder ting you no dream of before de fetish, beside dem who hab cloven hoof and four leg and one tail'—and he rose up—on which me Quacco jump on my feet too. 'Massa Ogly Jack, I onderstand you now, you willain; you is one mutiny, sir, and I arrest you, sir, in de name of de Kin.' All dis time I was press de tumb of my left hand against de pipe of my bayonet to see dat him was loose in de sheath. Jack again throw someting into de fire, dat dis time flare up wid red flame, not wid blue one as before, when every ting—de roof, de leetle wildcane bed, de rafter, and whole inside of de hut, de calabash hang against de wall, all look red, red and glowing hot, as if we had plump into de bad place all at once—even Jack, and me Quacco, seem two big lobster. I was wery terrible frighten, and drew back to de corner as far as I could get. Jack did not follow me, but continued standing in de same spot where he had risen up, wid both hand stretch out towards me. I try for speak, but my troat stop up, as if you was plug him wid piece of plantain. 'Quacco,' at length say Jack wery slow, like one parson, 'Quacco, you have say I was fetish man, and hab kill goat and pig—and I say I was so; and dat I have in my time make fetish of oder ting dat have no cleft in him hoof, and hab not four leg, nor one tail. Listen to me, Quacco; you is not goat?'—'No,' say me Quacco, 'certainly I is not goat.'—'You is not pig?' continue Jack.—'No, no—Oh! oh! oh!' groan me Quacco again—'You hab not cloven foot?' him go on to say.—'No,' roar I.—'Nor four leg?'—'No,' again me roar, shaking out my two foot for make him see.—'Nor one tail?'—Here I get mad wid fear, and jump forward wid my drawn bayonet right upon Jack—but, fiz, as if water had been thrown on it, out goes de fire. I nearly stifle wid de smoke, but determined to grapple wid Jack. I tumble all about de hut, but no Jack dere; I try de door—all fast. What shall I do?—he vanish—he must be debil—and I retreat de best way I could, groping along de wall, until I once more get into de corner dat I was leave. 'Oh, my God'' say me Quacco, 'here I sall be murder—or if I be not murder, den I sall be flog for being out of barrick widout leave—Oh, poor me Quacco, poor me Corporal Quacco—oh, to be flog at de triangles would be one comfort, compare wid walk to de hell place in dis fashion!' 'Quacco,' say one voice, it was not Jack voice, 'Quacco.'—'Hillo,' say I, 'who de debil is you next, eh?' No hanswer—den I begin to ruminate again. 'Quacco,' again de voice say.—'Hillo,' again say I, frighten till de sweat hop, hop over my forehead, and den from my chin and de point of my nose,"—("Where may that be?" whispered little Binnacle)—"when it drop down on de floor like small bullets. 'Quacco.'—'Oh, oh, oh!' groan I; for dis time it sound as if one dead somebody was speak out of one hollow coffin, lying at de bottom of one new open grave; 'put you hand at you feet, and see what you catch dere, and eat what you catch dere.' I did so—I find one calabash, wid boil nyam, and piece salt pork dere; I take him up—taste him—wery good—eat him all—why not? 'Quacco,' again say de voice, 'grope for de calabash dat hang against de wall.' I do so—quite heavy—let me see. 'Drink what in him,' again say de debil—'To be sure, Massa Debil,' say I, 'why not?' I taste him—good rum—ah, ah, ah—wery good rum, when flash de fire again blaze up right cheery, but I see no one; so I begin to look about, and de first ting I do was to put down my hand where I had replaced, de calabash at my feet. Mercy Heaven! what I lift? One skull, fresh and bloody, of one dead shild, wid some dirt at de bottom, and some fedders, and de shell of one egg. 'Oh, oh, oh! obeah, obeah!' shout I. And de calabash, what him contain? I pour out some on de fire—blaze, whatever it was—blaze up in my face and singe my hair, oh, wery mosh—make my head smell like de sheep head de Scotch agitant sarvant boil for him massa dinner on Sunday, when him too sick to dine at de mess. 'Dis will never do,' say I Quacco; 'let me see what stuff dis can be I was drink;' and I pour some on de white bench beside de fire. Oh, mammy Juba—O—O—O—it was blood! And what is dat small black box I see below de bench? I capsize him. 'Debil,' say I Quacco, 'what him is?' Massa, it was one leetle coffin tree feet long, wid de grave-clothes in him, but green and festering as if de rotting dead picaninny had been new remove. 'Quacco,' again say dat terrible voice, 'what you eat for yam was dirt from your fodder's grave, Quacco—look at him.'—'Oh, oh,' again roar I; 'but, good Massa Debil, who go to Africa for him, eh?'—'Hold your peace and be dam,' say de voice; 'and what you drink for rum, was your moder's blood; so, Quacco, you mosh swear to keep Jack secret, and to help him, and to do whatever him tell you, even if it be to shoot your hofficer.'—Here I go mad altogeder—I dance about de fire—whip, in one second it go out entirely—I jump up and down—de voice still continue to sing out—oder two voice sing out along wid him, 'Where dem evil spirit can be conceal?' say I—'some one must be on de rafter, couple you call, of de roof above my head calabash, for I can't find no debil on de floor of de hut, none at all,' say I; so I jomp up again, when my head knock against someting. 'Oh,' say somebody. 'Ah,' say me, Quacco. I leap once more, and pike up my naked bayonet before me—It tick in someting—what it was I can't tell; it feel as if I had dig him into one rump of beef—large yell instantly shake de entire hut—I jump again—heavy ting fall down on me—I scramble to get away, but one of de debils scramble to hold me down—I turn to de left—I lay hold of de hand of anoder on dem—no doubt de one who was speak. 'Ho, ho,' say I Quacco; so I make clever slide from between dem. De two debils grapple one anoder—gurgle, gurgle—squeak, squeak—one on dem was strangling de oder. I almost laugh, when some one hit me a heavy blow behind de ear; I faint away—dead—and—and I remember noting none at all, until I find myself, when, still it was dark night, all beat and bruise, and wid swimming head, in my hammock in de barrick at Fort Augusta. I sleep sound till near daybreak, however, when I turn myself, and say, 'Hab I Quacco been dronk last night?' I tink so; 'Or has all dis been one dream?' Maybe. Den I put up my hand to my head, but I never get soch bumps and tumps in one dream before. Dere was only tree oder of our men sleep in dat end of de barrick where I was, de rest being two rooms off, dose between us being under repair; one on dem was Ogly Jack, and de oder two was de wery dentical rascail I have mention before, Mundingo Tom and Yellow-skin Paul—Dem all tree eider were sound asleep, in dem hammocks, or pretended dey were so—for when I feel de cool damp morning breeze come troo de open window at one side of de barrick-room and blow clean out at de oder; and see de morning star twinkle bright and clear in de red east, and de pale-faced buccra moon, just sinking behind de brushwood on Hellshire Point, troo de window opposite, I turn myshef again in my hammock, and listen to de roar of de surf in de distance, and rub my eyes again, and say 'it not morning yet,'—But presently de trute push himself into my eye, and I say 'It is daybroke, and sore or sound, up must I Quacco get.' Just under de window, by dis time, I was hear some low grumbling voices, and coughs, and loud yawns; den I hear hollow tumbling sounds like when drum is place on de ground; den more grumbles, and coughs, and yawns; den de squeaking of de drum braces, as de leetle drummer pull dem tight, and de tootletoo of de fifer, as dem get all ready. At length Old Spearpoint, de drum-major, sing out wery gruff, 'fall in, music,' and next minute roll went de drum, squeak went de fife; roll went de drum, squea-eak went de fife very shrill; roll went de drum de tird time, and squea-ea-eak went de fife, very too dam shril dis last time; and away dem stamp rum dum dum round de barrick-yard wid dere reveillie. We all tumble out, and fall in on parade—still dark—we stand to our arms, de moon go down, but de morning star glance cold and clear on de bayonet and bright barrels of de guns—de great Duke no was brown de barrel den, God bless him. Search arms,' de sergeant say. We do so—half pace to de right—so in dat position I see well what Ogly Jack, who was my rear rank man, was do. De Serjeant approach me—I send down my steel ramrod wid one bang—he shomp up wid a loud ring one foot out of my musket—it really surprise me how far de ramrod shomp, as I send him home wid scarcely no strength none at all. 'Ha, no for noting my ramrod shomp so, someting past common here,' say I to myshef—de next man to me in de front rank was Yellow-skin Paul, and de next man to Ogly Jack was Mundingo Tom. As me Quacco was de right hand man of de front rank of de grenadiers, so Jack was de right hand man of de rear rank—well, Yellow-skin Paul make believe dat him send him ramrod home, but I notice he catch him between his finger and tumb, so as he never reach de bottom. 'Ho, ho,' tink I to myself, 'who shall say dat gun no load!' I keep quite still—de Serjeant by and by come to Jack—he catch de ramrod same way, and de Serjeant being half asleep, eider did not notice dis, or him tought noting about it. Presently he desire Mundingo Tom to search arms—he bang his ramrod down I saw, wid design to catch him like de oders, but in his hurry it slipt troo his fingers, and go home thud. 'Ho, ho,' say I again to myself, 'dis piece is also load'—What was to be do?—de Serjeant notice dis one—'dat firelock is load, you scoundril.'—'No,' say Mundingo Tom, 'but I leave some tow in him, beg pardon, massa serjeant.'—'You dem rascail,' say de serjeant, 'you never is better, you lazy dog—fall out, sir, and draw de'——'Attention,' call out de agitant at dis moment; 'de left wheel into line—marsh'—tramp, tramp, tramp, whir—de line is form. 'Stand at ease—A Serjeant from each company for blank cartridges.' So away step de serjeant, who had given Mundingo Tom a rating, and I take de opportunity of whisper Jack—'I say, Jack, what is in de wind? I have great mind to peach my sospicion.' He say nosing; and den I say, 'Poo, all my fear must be nonsense—all must be a dream'—de serjeant return—serve out eight round of blank cartridge—'attention' again. 'De line will wheel into open column of companies, right in front—on you left backwards wheel—halt, dress.' De hofficer was now all on parade, and stood in a group in front—de agitant mount him horse—Major D—— appear at de door of him house—one orderly hold him horse—him mount and ride up to de hofficer. 'Gentlemen, fall in—form subdivisions—quick march'—rum, dum, dum, dum, again, and away we march out to de glacis of de fort—den we form, and much manoeuvre we was perform—oh wery brilliant, 'wid cartridge, prime, and load.' 'De regiment will fire by companies from right to left'—short tap on de drum—de hofficer commanding companies fall back two pace—ready, present, fire—blaze go de grenadier—I prick my ear, and cock my eye. Ogly Jack, my covering file, was not fire—I know, because de moment I pull de trigger, I clap my right cheek down on de barrel of de musket as he was level—all cold iron—'Ha, ha,' say I to myself, and while loading, I glance my eye at Yellow-skin Paul's firelock, who was next me, and also at Mundingo Tom's, who was next Jack, bote on dem were half cock. So 'Ha, ha,' say me Quacco again, but before I could determine in my own mind what I should do, de word was given—'De regiment will fire one volley direct to de front.—Ready—present—fire,'—roar went de musketry—all smoke for small space—we remain at de present—wait long time for de major give de word 'Come to de recover,'—no one speak—all of we remain wid our piece level—oh! one attitude wery tiresome. Still no one speak. At length I hear our captain, one wery nice man, grumble to himself—'Why, what can be amiss wid de old major?'—dat moment de smoke, by de setting in of de sea-breeze, was blow off. What shall we see?—Why, Major D—— was lying on him horse's neck, widin ten yard of de grenadier company. 'Ah!' say for we captain—'he must be in one fit'—when down de major drop—and away scamper de horse—de captain run up, and turn de old man on him back, and take off him stock, and open him jacket. 'Ah!' cry he—'mutiny, gentlemen, mutiny; de major is shot dead. Secure de magazine; call out de artillery.' Den one loud buz buz pass along de line—de hofficer voice was heard—'Men, if you move one step I will cut you down by G—d.' Anoder say—'Stand to your arms, men; if one of you, stir, I will run him troo.' 'Who is de willain?—who is de willain?' shout some one else. Someting come over me—I rush out five pace—order my fusee, and touch my cap—wery graceful—so—[suiting the action to the word]—'Captain, and gentlemen—dere are de mutineers.'—'Where?'—'Dere.'—'Name dem.' say one.—'I will,' say me Quacco—'Ogly Jack, Mundingo Tom, and Yellow-skin Paul.' Dey were all immediately secure—and marshed to de front;—dem say noting—not one word. I look at dem—all tree cool and collected. 'May be,' tink I, 'dere will have be some mistake; 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.