All this time we were beating gaily up to windward in company with our consort, both boats proceeding at much the same rate, and frequently hailing each other and sailing nearly alongside. On the third day from that of our departure, we saw upon our right, towering in great blue masses out of the sea, the high land of Santa Martha. Mariners say that it is higher than the Peak of Teneriffe, and that when the weather is very clear, there is a certain circuit of the Caribbean sea, not far from hence, where, from the tops of a lofty vessel, you may see at once the distant ridges of Hispaniola, the Blue Mountains of Jamaica, and the Peak of Santa Martha upon the main land. The next day, the coast line being far distant, and being cloven, as it were, by the great river De la Hacha, which here comes into the sea, we saw riding at anchor, in-shore from us, a squadron of small ships. We being still well at sea, the water beneath was of a deep blue; but where the Pearl Fleet, for such they were, lay, the hue of the sea was a light green. It was as glorious an afternoon as ever shone under the tropics, as bowling cheerily before the sea-breeze, we ran down for our sister ships, they lying at their anchors above the great bank of pearls. There were fourteen or fifteen barks similar to our own, and at some distance was a stately frigate, which protected them, lying-to.
‘That is the convoy of the Pearl Fleet,’ said Garbo;[Pg 304] ‘we must first speak her, and she will allot our station on the bank.’
And, in fact, as he talked, the great maintop-sail of the Spanish ship was filled, and her bows, falling off from the wind and pointing to us, she moved slowly out to meet us. As she drew near, I could not help thinking that she was the same vessel which had chased the ‘Will-o’-the-Wisp.’ At any rate, she had the same richly-carved bows, full of figures of angels and saints, and the same goodly fabric of rigging towering up against the blue sky. Presently, she hove-to again, our small sails being becalmed under her lee, and Captain Garbo, with two of his men, went aboard her in the small canoe which the bark carried. As for myself, I did not care to trust my neck on board a Spanish man-of-war. Indeed, I kept as much out of sight as I very well could, pretending to be busy about a thousand little matters on board the bark. I noted, however, that the Spaniard bore twelve great guns upon either side, besides double batteries upon forecastle and poop. Her high decks swarmed with men, who scrambled over into her chains and out at her port-holes, and chatted with the Spanish part of the bark’s crew, and mocked and gibed at Wooroo as he sat upon his hams on the deck, taking no more notice of what was said to him than the mast. Presently the captain returned with a card in his hand, whereon was inscribed the station of the bark upon the bank. Each boat had its own appointed place; and the frigate was there not only to protect the fleet against Buccaneers, but to enforce the rules which the Spanish government, to whom the fishery belongs, lays down to be observed by the barks which prosecute it. The pearl bank extends for a great many miles in length and one in breadth, there being a deep channel about three or four leagues broad between its inmost edge and the land. Our position was towards the eastern extremity of the bank, and so we beat up towards it, passing many of the anchored boats, who hailed us cheerily, and asked what news from Carthagena. As we sailed along, we saw the divers, all of them either Indian[Pg 305] or negroes, standing often upon the edge of the boats, poising their bodies for a moment, and then plunging head-foremost down into the sea. Some of the fleet were more deeply laden than others, that depending upon the number of the oysters which chanced to lie scattered under each boat. As soon as the cargo is made up, the pearl fisherman weighs, hoists his lug sails, and runs in for the shore; but if the frigate fires two guns, one close after the other, he must lie-to, until a boat from the big ship comes and gives him leave to proceed. Although the rule, however, is, that each boat fishes and sails for itself, without attending to its neighbours, yet the convoy always tries as far as possible to arrange matters, so that the fleet may sail in a body to the shore, the frigate attending them to windward. If it be suspected that there are Buccaneers upon the coast, the ordinary rule is indeed altogether suspended, and no boat is permitted to weigh anchor until the commodore fire a gun, and hoist a blue flag at his foretop-gallant-mast head, when the whole squadron run gaily together for the Ranchiera, as the pearl village is called, upon the banks of the Rio de la Hacha. When we joined the fleet no danger was, however, suspected, and by the time that we had taken our station, and let the anchor splash from the bows, about half the barks, which were deepest in the water, had weighed; and hoisting their brown patched sails, scudded away before the last of the sea-breeze. As soon as it became dark each boat hoisted a lantern to its mast-head; the frigate showing two, one above the other, in the foretop-gallant rigging. The night was calm and still. Every now and then we would hear the faint sound of songs, coming over the water from distant barks; and, as hour after hour passed away, it was marked by the clang of the great ship’s bell. Meantime, on board our bark, we were busy preparing for to-morrow’s fishing. The waist was cleared out, and the decks fore and aft lumbered with the coils of rope and old canvas, flung aside to make room for the expected overflow of oysters. Then the baskets to be used in lifting them from the bottom of the[Pg 306] sea, strong cages of thick wire, all rusty and bent, were prepared; the tackle was rigged, and lines were affixed to heavy pieces of lead, furnished with handles for the divers to grasp, so as to sink the quicker to the bottom. These preparations over, we cooked and ate our suppers and turned in, leaving but one hand on deck for an anchor watch, as sailors call it.
‘Now,’ thought I, as, according to my custom, instead of crawling into the little cabins, which were not much better than the hold of the ship which had carried Wooroo from Guinea, I laid myself down on deck, well muffled up in old sails, to keep the heavy dews away—‘Now,’ thought I, ‘I have heard of kings and queens who slept on beds whereof the curtains were heavy with pearls, all glittering in their lustre above them, but here am I now, and here be a fleet of us poor sea-tossed mariners sleeping upon a bed with more pearls beneath and around us than there are in the treasuries and the thrones, and on the royal bed-curtains to boot, of London, or Paris, or Madrid.’ I know not whether the kings and queens whereof I have spoken slept the better for the pearls above them; I know I slept well with pearls below me, being indeed favoured, perhaps by St. Gieronimo, with a vision in which I saw the ‘Will-o’-the Wisp’ suddenly appear in the midst of the Pearl Fleet and engage the Spanish frigate, Stout Jem himself fighting in single combat with the captain, and at length, by one stout thrust, pinning him to his own mainmast; when, just as I was about to spring forward to haul down the golden flag of Spain from the man-of-war’s topmast, a loud voice, coming from real flesh and blood lungs, smote my ear, and, starting up, I saw Captain Garbo and the rest scrambling through the hatchways in their shirts, while the anchor watch was shouting lustily that there was a strange vessel rowing with sweeps through the fleet, and that he had even heard the muttering of the voices on board of her. At this, I confess very willingly, my heart made a leap into my mouth. Was my dream a true vision—was Stout Jem, indeed, so near? We all held[Pg 307] our peace and listened, but we heard nothing. It was now quite dark. The night had got cloudy, and there were neither stars nor moon. The air, too, was quite still, and the tap-tap of the water against the ridges of overlapping planks on the clinker-built side of the boat, as she rocked slowly on the swell, was the only sound we could distinguish. The lights of the other barks were gleaming on the dark ocean, and the two lanterns of the frigate swayed slowly from side to side, as though they were meteors playing among the stars.
‘Tush, Pedro,’ said Captain Garbo,’ you fell asleep, man, and dreamed you saw a ghost. You deserve to be dipped alongside, just to waken you.’
But at that moment we all started, for suddenly there came over the water a loud crash, as of two ships meeting, followed all at once by a crackling volley of musketry, which glanced bright through the darkness, gleaming in fiery streaks over the black oily-looking water, and then, mingling with the reports of the fire-arms, a great hearty cheer, such as Englishmen give when they leap upon the decks of an enemy. By the flashes we saw that one of the largest and heaviest laden of the pearl barks had been laid aboard by a very long low-built boat with three raking masts, like those of the vessels which the French call chasse-marées, and moved by a number of great sweeps, which extended from her sides like the long legs of some huge insect of the sea.
‘The Pirates! the Buccaneers!’ screamed all our crew together, and they rushed to haul down our lantern, so that we might the better escape in the darkness. In the meantime, there was a great crashing and scuffling, with heavy plunges in the water, as though men had leaped or been thrown overboard, and then, in the course of a moment, there was again silence, and the light of the captured vessel, for such no doubt she was, disappeared. But on board of the rest of the fleet there sprang up, as you may conceive, the strangest uproar. Instead of hauling down their lights, as we had done, in less than a minute the sea was all a-fire with the infinity of lanterns[Pg 308] and torches which they waved and flashed from rigging and deck, while such a clamour of shouts, blowing of trumpets and conch shells, beating of drums, and firing of muskets and pistols, I never heard. It appeared, indeed, as if the pearl fishers imagined that they would drive away their enemy by making a noise and hallooing; all this, however, was done, Captain Garbo said, to alarm the convoy; but, truly, they must have kept sleepy watch aboard of her, if they did not hear the tumult of the first attack. But in the meantime the great ship was aroused—a flash of red flame gleamed from out her sides, showing for a moment boats full of men surging in the water beneath, and her sails falling in great white patches from her yards, as she prepared to give chace to the enemy. But these broad sails were useless; not a reef point rattled against the canvas in the great stillness of the night; but we heard the dash of oars and distant shouts as the boats of the frigate pulled away from her among the fleet. Meantime, the din on board the different barks subsided, but we could see the crews as they ran to-and-fro upon the decks, still carrying torches and lanterns, while every minute or two the frigate fired a great gun, for what purpose I know not, only that it seems as if Spaniards, like Frenchmen, seldom think they are doing anything if they be not making a noise. But where, meanwhile, was the Buccaneer rowboat, or galley? I strained my eyes through the darkness in the direction in which I had seen her. Could she be an Englishman, I thought to myself, and, if so, would it be possible for me to board her? A light canoe floated alongside our bark, on which my eye fell as these ideas rose up in my mind. But, when I reflected a minute, I saw how mad would be any attempt to make my way in the darkness, and amid pursuing boats, to the vessel, even although she might be, what I had no certain means of knowing her—a friend.
While I was pondering thus, Captain Garbo accosted me in a whisper—
‘This is but a mad freak of your countrymen,’ he said,[Pg 309] ‘for such I judge them to be. They could not expect to carry off the bark from the middle of a fleet, and without a breath of wind either.’
Just as he spoke, a jagged flash of lightning, which dazzled me, tore right across the sky to the westward, and the loud crackling thunder had not ceased to explode above us, when a heavy puff of wind, bearing broad plashing rain-drops before it, struck our bark, and made her swing round to her anchor like a weathercock.
‘A squall,’ I cried out, ‘and the privateer knew it was coming. It was that made them so bold.’
Just then a whole row of lanterns was run up to the gaff of the great ship.
‘See,’ said Garbo—‘a squall indeed. That is the signal for the recal of all her boats.’
There was nothing which appeared to me very ominous in the look of the night. I only expected a pretty sharp outburst of wind and rain with thunder and lightning. And so, indeed, it proved, for in less than five minutes from the first flash, a strong gusty wind, driving before it a pelting rain, was whitening the sea around us, and hissing and whistling through the few ropes which formed our rigging, while the bark herself tore and plunged at her anchor, as if she would have wrenched it out from its hold amid the oysters. In a moment the flaming torches, shown from so many of the fleet, were blown out or quenched; but the great ship, burning a bright light in her main rigging, we saw her all lurid and blue in the glare, leaning heavily over to the blast, her slanting yards dotted with the seamen, who were taking in sail as fast as they had spread it forth. In a few minutes again all around was darkness, except where the glimmer of a lantern, tossing and tumbling as though a giant were flinging it from hand to hand, showed where one of the Pearl Fleet was jerking and straining at her anchor. The strength of the squall was not alarming, but it tore up the sea upon these shallow banks into quick cross-running and angry waves, and the rain was driven in our faces so sharply that the drops struck like hailstones.
[Pg 310]
‘The only thing I fear,’ said Garbo to me, as we stood holding on by the foremast, ‘is for the frigate’s boats. There will be no great damage to anything else.’
Just as he spoke, a man beside us shouted, ‘A boat! a boat!’ and looking forth ahead, we saw, clearly relieved against the whiteness of a breaking sea, one of the frigate’s barges coming tossing down upon us, while, almost at the same instant, a couple of dark sails shot, as it were, like dusky shadows into the faintly lighted circle around us, illuminated by the half-dozen lamps which, in imitation of the rest of the fleet, we had fixed to different parts of the rigging, and then in a moment, as the vessel which bore the canvas rose upon the crest of a sea, we all recognised the long, low galley which had laid the pearl boat aboard. She was flying along close hauled to the wind, the white foam beating in showers over her long dusky form, and sometimes over the two patches of sails which she carried. The boat of the frigate lay right athwart her track. There were two loud shouts from those in the boat and those in the sailing galley, then, in an instant, a straggling volley of musketry was shot by the former. The flashes illuminated the sea, showing the sharp and carved prow, ending in a serpent’s head, of the adventurous craft, and the grim faces of a cluster of men, who waved their hands and shook axes and cutlasses at the Spanish boat. Then there was a sudden order, in English, on board the galley, ‘Port! Hard a-port! and give them the stem.’ The bows an instant fell off from the wind, lifted on a sea, and crushed down upon the doomed boat, driving her under water like an eggshell, while, with a loud hearty hurrah, the Buccaneer swept past us, not three fathoms from our bowsprit, and, in a moment, disappeared in the night.
‘A sail, close to astern,’ was at the moment sung out from the other extremity of our craft.
‘Never mind the sail astern,’ shouted Garbo. ‘Here—ropes, oars, anything—there is a boat swamped ahead, and as he spoke, there appeared the wreck of the man[Pg 311] of-war’s pinnace, with some of the men clinging to it, and others striking out amid the sea, and shouting lustily to us for help. A dozen of lines were flung to them at once, while the fat negro leaped overboard, calling to the struggling mariners to fear nothing. Wooroo never moved an inch during the whole affair, except to shake his woolly head when a heavier shower of spray than ordinary fell upon him. The Spaniards, who could most of them swim well, soon scrambled up our low sides, none the worse of their ducking. Not a man was missing, thanks to the aid of our little pearl diver, who had made directly for the wreck of the boat, and very dexterously lashed a couple of ropes round the only two of the crew who, either by being stunned in the collision, or from the bewilderment and suddenness of the whole affair, were clinging for life to the shattered boat, without having in the least the power of helping themselves. Such a scene of outcry, and swearing, and hubbub of all sorts, as the Spanish man-of-war’s men made when they got aboard, I never saw. They ran from end to end of the craft, shouting out, in the darkness, after the vessel which had run them down; roaring, by all the saints, that they would be revenged upon her, and that when the frigate caught her, they would not leave a French or English throat uncut on board. As for me, I deemed it politic to chime in with these declarations—to the great amusement of Captain Garbo, who was a very good fellow, and kept my secret like wax. When we had a little settled down—the squall having also fallen, and the sea getting smoother fast—the captain called for the man who had reported the sail astern, and asked him what like she was?
‘Truly,’ said the mariner, ‘I can tell you not only what like she was, but what she really was—the vessel being no other than the bark which the Buccaneer laid aboard, and which no doubt she captured, for both ships were lying the same course—one passing ahead and the other astern of us.’
‘Ay,’ said the officer of the man-of-war, shivering in his cold wet clothes, ‘it was the ship the scoundrels[Pg 312] wanted, and there is no denying but they have carried her off very cleverly.’
I was of the same opinion myself, and I could not but admire the judgment of the Buccaneers in rowing into the centre of the sleeping squadron, just before the outbreak of the squall, and then swooping off with their prey, in the midst of the confusion which it created. The weather soon cleared up. By midnight the stars were twinkling forth, and the frigate having worked up near us, we hailed that the crew of the pinnace were safe, and presently another boat coming on board, carried them to their own ship. With the earliest peep of the dawn I was at the mast-head of our bark. The fleet, with the exception of the one spirited away, were riding at their stations. The boats which had, yesterday evening, gone into the river with their cargoes, were again standing out for the bank. The frigate lay to windward—rising and falling on the froth-laced seas, with her main-topsail flat to the mast—but elsewhere the ocean was sailless. The Buccaneer and her prize, one of the largest and quickest vessels of the fleet, had disappeared.
That morning, we began our proper business of collecting pearls, the method of which I will briefly describe. First, the fat negro went in the canoe to several points round about the vessel, diving into the water at each, and thus finding where the shell-fish lay thickest. This having been ascertained, he placed a small buoy upon the spot, and the bark was warped up to it. The iron-basket, which I have mentioned, was then let down to the bottom of the sea, the depth of which was hereabouts nearly five fathoms, or almost thirty feet. Then Wooroo and his comrade prepared for their day’s work, by stuffing their ears full of the down of the cotton-tree, without which, or some similar precaution, divers frequently become deaf. They anointed their limbs, too, with some sort of vegetable oil, and then taking the sinkers of lead, which I have spoken of, in their hands, they poised their bodies, standing upon the gunwale of the ship, and keeping time, as it were, to her roll, flinging back their arms and[Pg 313] shoulders, and breathing deeply, so as to puff out their broad chests with air. Wooroo, while so standing, looked like a great black image of Strength. At length they leaped simultaneously, making but one splash, and as the water settled over them, we could see their black forms wavering and quivering, as it seemed, owing to the motion of the sea, and then presently clinging to the projections of rock, all tufted over with green sea-weed—in the rifts of which the oysters lay thick. As soon, however, as they began to tear up the latter from their beds, the water became so much mudded that we could not remark the process. In the meantime, we hauled up both sinkers, which the divers had let go on reaching the bottom, and placed them on the gunwale, all ready for the next plunge. The little man came up to the surface first—puffing and blowing. There was a sort of broad-stepped ladder, with three or four rounds, which was let down into the water, and upon one of which he sat to rest, basking himself in the hot sun. Wooroo did not appear at the surface, until I began to think that he would never come up at all—and said as much to Garbo.
‘Drowned,’ said the good-tempered Spaniard; ‘that’s not the fate he was born to. Caramba! that fellow’s lungs will hold as much air as the biggest bellows that ever were puffed.’ And accordingly, after an unconscionable space of time, the negro rose, and clung to the ladder, his features appearing only a little swollen, and his vast chest heaving a little faster, as the consequences of his plunge. As soon as the basket was reported filled, it was drawn up and emptied into the deep waist, and then let down again. In the course of the day, another negro and an Indian, both expert divers, arrived from the shore to help us, there being generally four divers to each boat. Two cages were then let down together, and by nightfall, the bark had half her cargo on board.
In consequence, however, of the bold attack of the pirate, or Buccaneer, the captain of the frigate determined that all the pearl fishermen should proceed together to the shore, and from thence back to the banks, sailing[Pg 314] in a squadron; and as the greater number of the boats had their full cargoes on board, we all weighed anchor in company, stealing in slowly for the shore, upon a smooth sea glistening in the starlight. It was a fair spectacle that small squadron, with their white sails just sleeping in the light breeze, and with the great frigate, her huge lanterns shining over her poop like sea-beacons, and now and then belching forth a sheet of red spouting fire, as an admonition to any of the faster boats, which might appear to be inclined to take the lead of the rest, not to break the order of sailing. As we glided along, the crews of the barks often sang in chorus, the music being re-echoed and reflected as it were between the many sails spread out, until it appeared as if hundreds of choristers were joining in the burden. About midnight we crossed the bar of the Rio de la Hacha, the frigate remaining outside, and presently anchored near the shore, in a shallow bay, where the water was brackish. The land hereabouts is low and sandy, with abundance of thin-stemmed, narrow-leaved herbage, and few trees. The town is a mere assemblage of huts, kept up for the purpose of the pearl fishery, and inhabited by the Indians, being principally old men, women, and children, who open the oysters, under the constant superintendence of watchful Spanish overseers, who are there to keep a sharp eye upon the pearls. Notwithstanding all their care, however, they are very often cheated, and the most valuable pearls hidden and conveyed away. I had often opportunities while on board the fleet, and ashore in the ranchiera, or village, of seeing the process of opening the oysters. These were brought from on board the barks in flat-bottomed barges to the shore, whence they are carried in baskets, upon the heads of the Indians, to a sort of store-pit, or receptacle, into which they are flung. Close to this deposit are ranged a great many narrow tables, each of them consisting only of two rough planks set upon trestles, and shaded overhead by a roof of withered grass heaped upon hurdles. All along the tables, on one side, are ranged great lines of the Indian[Pg 315] slaves opening the oysters, while upon the other side of the tables, stand the Spanish overseers, there being one overseer to every dozen or so of openers. When an Indian finds pearls, either of the large or the seed sort, he shouts out, and his superintendent immediately goes up to him, and takes charge of the precious substances, which he is bound in turn to give to the chief superintendent, who registers their size and value in an account book.
The slaves are principally fed upon the meat of the oysters, which they prepare in a particular way, passing a string through a great number of oysters in the manner of threading beads or decorations, and then hanging the festoons thus made up to dry. They likewise live upon manatee and the flesh of wild cattle, the ranchiera being amply provided with hunters, whose business it is to supply such stores. The slaves work from sunrise to sunset, with about three hours intermission when the heat is the fiercest. They are a poor, dogged, sullen-looking sort of people, with long straight black hair and big cheek-bones. It is miserable to see them at their work, crouching under the whips of the overseers, not daring to whisper to each other nor to cease for a moment, but, bending down their heads over the board, and, when they find a pearl, calling out in a low whining tone to the overseer, who presently relieves them of it. I have often, having found occasion to be sometimes on shore during the day, sat upon a little sandy hillock, sheltered from the sun by a sort of umbrella made of plaited grass, many of which the Spaniards use, and gazed upon the scene. To seaward was the surf thundering white upon the bar, and almost on the horizon the pearl barks, like black specks, guarded by the big ship, as a little hamlet is by a castle. On one side the river came shining down, amid a waste of sand-banks and knolls, spreading out and slackening in its speed, as it began to feel the near influence of the sea. On its banks vast flocks of birds disported. The flamingos stood in red rows, drawn up like soldiers. Great cranes waded in the shallow water, like men on[Pg 316] stilts. Ducks of many sorts flew by in long lines or in the shape of wedges, with a brave old drake to lead the fleet; while small water birds, which dive, floated upon the brownish river, sometimes tipping down to the bottom with a saucy jerk of their spruce little tails, and then coming up with a flutter and a quackle. By the margin, fixed to posts and stakes, lay a fleet of canoes, and the flat-bottomed boats which carried the oysters ashore; and here and there, lurking among the sand-hills with his gun, you might descry a Spanish sportsman, creeping along the shore to get a good shot at widgeon or teal. Upon the landward side there stretched out in the hot sun a wavy, sand-heaped shore, feathered here and there with a palm, bending in the sea-breeze. The village, which was two or three straggling streets of huts, built of wood and wattled branches, with some roofs scattered here and there of tarred canvas, which sailors call tarpaulin, supported upon stakes, boats’ masts, oars, and what not, lay, as it were, roasting brown in the fierce glare of the sun. A few black and stark-naked children played in the sand before the doors, and a Spaniard or two, with their white linen jackets, and broad straw hats, and red sashes tied round their middles, and everlasting pipes of tobacco in their hands, would be sitting in the shade, outside the long low hut which was the posada of the place, drinking draughts of wine from gourds or cups made of cocoa-shells mounted with silver, and playing cards or dice for shining dollars. At one end of the village was a rude sort of fort, built of unhewn stone, piled up and supported by a framework of stakes; it had no cannon, but was loopholed for musketry, and was set all round with sentry-boxes, in which Spanish soldiers dozed away the greater part of the day and night. Above the ramparts or palisades, which were not more than twelve feet high, and planted upon the roof of an inner house, rose a flag-staff bearing the broad red and yellow banner of Spain. In this fort, or stockade, lived the governor of the fishery, the chief superintendent, and the captain of the convoy, when he was ashore. All the[Pg 317] pearls which were found were conveyed thither twice a-day, and overseers were continually passing and repassing from the great gate down to the opening tables, which stood in divers ranks all round the central pit into which the oysters were flung. From among those tables, half covered by their thin roofs of grass and hurdles, and lined by the dusky rows of working slaves, continually came the sharp crack of the whip, followed by a loud howl from some poor wretch detected whispering to his neighbour, or pausing a moment in his toil. Now and then an Indian would run hurriedly away from the tables towards the village, that man having found and delivered up a pearl above a certain weight, which entitled him to a holiday until the next morning; while, again, perhaps a poor brown devil would be walked off between a couple of the soldiers who attended at the tables, and taken to the fort, there to be flogged to an inch of his life for some offence given to the overseer of the board.
Such, then, is a true picture of the pearl ranchiera, on the banks of the Bio de la Hacha. Meanwhile, days, and weeks, and at last months, slipped away, and I found myself no nearer my design of getting on board an English ship than when I left Carthagena. I went off every day in the pearl bark, and many an anxious look I cast to windward for a sail. One or two I saw, but at a great distance, and they did not seem inclined to come nearer. Indeed, the frigate being put upon its mettle by the recent attack, the governor of the fishery having, as I heard, rated the captain soundly for not keeping a better look out—the frigate, I say, was very vigilant, generally keeping to windward of the fleet; and when we remained all night at our anchors, burning blue lights and other fireworks constantly, and having all her heavy boats, with their crews armed to the teeth, rowing guard through and around the squadron, from sundown to sunrise, like most vigilant watchmen. Thus I did not think it probable that any privateer, excepting, indeed, a ship of great size, would dare to attack a fleet so guarded. So I considered myself almost as much a prisoner as when in[Pg 318] the house of the Señora Moranté at Carthagena, and with as little prospect of speedy release. I panted for the sound of my countrymen’s voices again, and often and often did I start from my sleep, dreaming I heard Stout Jem’s hearty talk, or Nicky Hamstring’s cheery laugh. Thus I got downhearted and mopish enough, and often thought of purchasing from Captain Garbo, for I was not—thanks to my friends at Carthagena—penniless, the canoe belonging to the bark, and taking my chance in her to run down before the trades to the Samballas. Indeed, the unpleasantness of my situation increased day by day. Although I spoke Spanish reasonably well, and put great restraint upon my speech, so as never to drop a hint or a word which might betray my secret, I saw that I was suspected, and two or three times I thought it best to retreat as rapidly as I could from the lowering brows and fishing questions which the crews of the other barks, and sometimes the soldiers on shore, received me with. At length, one evening, when, much against my own will, I had accompanied Captain Garbo to the posada, so many hints were dropped about ‘spies,’ and ‘sailing under false colours,’ and so many interrogatories were put to me, touching the Spanish ships in which I had sailed, and the ports from which they set forth, that I made up my mind to take the very first opportunity of leaving my present comrades. Captain Garbo, who being a good deal heated by wine, must needs defend me with great warmth, and tell many lies in his zeal, each lie being, as is generally the case, quite inconsistent with the other, made the matter worse instead of better; and half-a-dozen times, just as the talk was turning upon something else, he would start up, and flourishing a knife in his pot-valiancy, would threaten that any man who said I was not a good comrade and a good fellow, should brook the stab. Now, among the company was one man to whom I took a special dislike, because he encouraged Garbo with all his might to defend me, at the same time dropping hints that I stood in need of the utmost eloquence which my protector could exert, and all the time slily laughing in his[Pg 319] sleeve at both of us. This man was a squat, broad-shouldered little fellow, with a greasy, threadbare doublet, and a cunning-looking weasen face, lighted up by two bright winking eyes. He never seemed to me to sit a moment in the same position, but was always shifting about and fidgeting, and speaking here and there, to almost every one at once. This man, whom the rest called Señor Peralta, was, they told me, a merchant who came hither every year at the pearl season to purchase pearls of the chief officer of the fishery. He had a large half-decked piragua of his own, and was accounted by the Spaniards as a very adventurous and clever fellow; and being liberal with his money, and always ready to treat the commoner sort of men, as well as to sing merry songs, and crack merry jokes over his liquor, this Señor Peralta was quite a great personage in the ranchiera. The evening of which I am talking, I often observed his eyes fixed with an intent look upon me, and once or twice, as I judged, he made a sign with his hands, but what he meant I could not for the life of me divine. Next day, some accident—what it was I forget—prevented Captain Garbo taking his bark out to the bank, and so having nothing to do, I went wandering, low-hearted enough, among the sand-banks and knolls of grass down by the sea. At length, seeing a comfortable shade formed by some thick bushes, which kept off the sun, but let the sea-breeze whistle through, I sat me down, and began to think upon my project of obtaining a canoe, and chancing the run to the Samballas. While I was thus musing, I suddenly started to hear a voice near me singing softly; and I started again, and a thrill of pleasure went through my veins, when I recognised the words of the song for English. Almost afraid that I was dreaming, and fearing to awake, I listened while the musician, who appeared to lie concealed among the bushes behind me, sang with a clear, lusty voice these verses, which I remembered to have heard in the playhouses in London:—
[Pg 320]
‘Sir Drake, whom well the world’s end knew, Which thou did compass round, And whom both poles of heaven once saw, Which north and south do bound. ‘The starres alone would make thee knowne If men were silent here; The sun himselfe cannot forget His fellow-travellere!’The song being ended, I turned hastily round, exclaiming aloud—‘A countryman—a friend!’ And at the same time the bushes being rustled aside, out of them popped the grinning face of Señor Peralta! I staggered back with wonder, while the pearl-merchant called out, in good English—
‘Truly a young bird, and to be caught with the veriest chaff! Why, man, thou art a pretty dissembler indeed, when thou canst not hear the butt-end of an old ballad of our country, without leaping and bellowing like a moon-calf. I can tell thee, that had I been as unwary, I should have danced from the end of a halter aboard yonder frigate, long ago!’
By this time, I was recovered from my surprise, and running up to Peralta, assisted him to scramble out of the bushes, beseeching him at the same time to explain to me this mystery, and tell me what he was. Before answering one word, however, he led me quite away from the cover of the bushes, down to the seaside. ’ Where I was hidden,’ he said, ‘another can hide—the open beach keeps safer counsel.’ Then sitting down upon a great stone—the surf almost coming up to our feet—
‘I suspected you for an Englishman,’ quoth he, ‘the first day I saw you. And last night I took the liberty of making myself quite sure. I don’t think you liked the process. But I am an old hand in these matters, and he must understand his business well, who makes me believe falsely that what he seems he is. Now, just tell me candidly how you came here, and perhaps I may help you to what I am pretty sure you want, and that is a means of getting quit of our friends in the ranchiera yonder.’
[Pg 321]
I acknowledged that he had divined my thoughts, as well as he had penetrated my disguise; and so, in a few words, imparted to him some outline of my story. He heard me out very attentively; and then says he—
‘If I were you, I would go to Jamaica, and claim my property.’
‘What property?’ I said, in amazement.
‘Why,’ quoth he, ‘have you not heard of the fate of the Carthagena galleon? She was taken two days’ sail from the coast by a privateer schooner, which I understand to be no other than yours—the Will-o’-the-Wisp. It was the richest prize that hath been captured in these seas for many a year. The privateer sailed with her into Port Royal, in Jamaica; and as you say that the captain is a staunch-hearted fellow; and as Mr. Pratt, whom I know to be a very honest gentleman, is concerned in the matter, I do not doubt but that your share of the adventure, to which you are fully entitled, and which must be very considerable, will be duly accounted for to you.’
This was great news indeed. I only lamented that I had not been on board in the action, but the pearl merchant, who, it seems, had got his information from those who had spoken with the mariners of the galleon, after they landed on the main coast, being sent back in their boats by the privateers—my pearl merchant, I say, told me that the Spaniards having been boarded in the night, and when they were in no posture of defence, had made next to no resistance, and that the galleon had been very easily secured. Of course, this intelligence made me doubly anxious to make my way to Jamaica, or to any port where I could regain my comrades, and I eagerly asked my new friend whether he could not put me in the way of getting thither.
‘Why,’ says he, ‘if I could not, I shouldn’t have made myself known to you at all, but the truth is, that I need your services as a seaman. I have got a very large decked piragua—you may see her masts as she lies there in the river—in which I have, as I may say, sailed the whole Caribbean Sea. This trip, however, I have been[Pg 322] unfortunate, having lost a very good fellow—a negro—my prime seaman, who died about a month ago of the small-pox. I have but two men slaves of my own left with me, and I was thinking where I could get a good fourth hand, who knew somewhat about the sea, when fortune sends you to my aid.’
I protested my willingness to serve him, and we had a long discourse together. He told me that he was an Englishman by birth, but that his father was a Spaniard and his mother a Frenchwoman. Thus, he said, he had learned from his earliest youth, a smattering of all the three languages, and having lived long in London, Paris and Cadiz, in after years, pursuing his craft of a jeweller and goldsmith, he had very little difficulty, when need was, in passing himself off for a native either of England, France, or Spain. For some years back he had been, he told me, sailing about the West Indies, trafficking in precious stones and gold. He had no fixed place of abode.
‘Sometimes,’ quoth he, ‘I kneel very piously at mass, and make the sign of the cross, in the great cathedral at Havannah—and then I am as grave a Spaniard as the Cid. Again, I shall sing and dance at a merry-making in Tortuga—and, there, credit me, I bear a heart as light and as French as ever did the good king of Yvetot. Anon, I shall drink and shout with our good friends, Archemboe, Davis, and the rest at Port Royal, and not a bully of them all but shall swear I am as bluff a Briton as jolly King Hal!’
I then intimated my hopes, that his trade so venturously conducted was a profitable one.
‘As for that,’ quoth he, ‘what with my poor efforts in the New World, and the exertions of my good correspondents at divers courts in Europe, I thank the stars that there is more than one imperial regalia the wearer of which oweth me more, perchance, than he will ever pay. But I am not exacting. When a sensible man deals with kings, if he does not get money, he can always have money’s worth.’
This speech the pearl merchant, or jeweller, delivered[Pg 323] with abundance of nods and winks and shrugs, as though there were many meanings in it, out of which I was welcome to take my own. Then he whispered—
‘If you would have gold cheap, know the miners. If you would have pearls cheap, make much of the divers. Deal at the fountain—go to the well-head—the well-head, my son!’
At this he laughed very complacently, and I thought it best to laugh too, although for my life I could not fathom the meaning of the riddling words which the man spoke, and which he accompanied with so many expressive shrugs of the shoulders and grotesque leers, that I was as much puzzled by what I saw, as by what I heard. All at once, however, he broke off, and said, plainly enough—
‘Now we know each other sufficiently for the present. My time for remaining in this oystery part of the world will be over in two or three days, and I presume that you will have no objections to ship in my piragua, and take the chances of the sea to Port Royal?’
Of course I engaged to be ready at a moment’s warning, and we were about to part, when he said suddenly—
‘I have little to do this evening, and I suppose you have less. Come and sup with me. Any one will show you the hut of Peralta, the poor pearl merchant. Come at ten.’ These words he spoke with one of his habitual leers and shrugs. I promised very readily, and then Señor Peralta walked away demurely, counting his beads.
I lost no time in communicating to Captain Garbo that I had now an opportunity of shortly getting a passage to one of the English islands. He was very desirous to know how I had managed it; but upon that head I would give him no satisfaction.
‘Well,’ quoth he at last, ‘so be it, Señor Lindsay; but I say, the first time you and your comrades take a Spanish bark, be lenient to my countrymen; be as merciful as you can to their goods and chattels for the sake of old Manuel Garbo, the pearl fisher.’
At ten o’clock exactly I took my way over the sandy[Pg 324] beach to Peralta’s hut, which stood a little apart from the other buildings, towards the landward extremity of the ranchiera. As I plodded along, sometimes tripping over mounds of oysters; sometimes stopping to look to seaward, where all the lights of the pearl squadron glimmered as the fleet sailed towards the shore, I suddenly heard a loud outcry, in which I could distinguish the yells of an Indian, and the gruff voices of Spaniards high in oath, and who, I conjectured, from the clash of arms, were soldiers. In a minute or two I saw faintly a dusky group of people, whites and Indians, some of them carrying lanterns, which gleamed on drawn swords and bayonets. The men bearing them disappeared through the principal gate of the fort, and then the Indians, who were left outside, raised the most pitiable cries and howls, until they were threatened by the sentries, and told they would be fired upon if they did not disperse. As I was somewhat late, I did not stop to inquire into the cause of the tumult, but I judged that it was probably occasioned by the arrest of an Indian who had committed some crime; perhaps, as was very common, stolen or secreted a valuable pearl. However, I did not think much of the matter, and soon arrived at Peralta’s hut. It was a large house as compared with most of its neighbours, fenced all around with walls formed of double lines of strong tough stakes, the space between them being filled up with stones gathered apparently from the sea beach. On knocking, I was admitted by Peralta himself, who led the way into a small room, with walls roughly built of wood and stone, through which the starlight was shining at many cracks and crevices, and mingling with the smoky glimmer of a great brass lamp. The place contained but the most ordinary sort of furniture—a hammock hung in a corner, an oiled bag for holding clothes, a table, and two or three small chairs, or rather large stools. The table, however, was laid out for supper, and showed a capital repast of fish, flesh, and fowl, while a couple of flasks, with slim necks, and all cob-webbed and begrimed, as though they had long lain deep in a well-stocked cellar,[Pg 325] made a curious contrast to the cracked crockery and wooden platters, and hacked and broken knives and forks which lay beside them.
‘You see,’ quoth Peralta, ‘that, though I may have dealings with kings, I don’t by any means live in a palace. There are idle vanities and substantial vanities, my friend. Diamonds and pearls, laces and gildings, brocades and velvets, are of the former class; but good meats to eat, and good wines to drink, are of the latter. Now you see I am an admirer of the substantial vanities. I love to feed upon the daintiest morsel, though it be picked up with a broken one-pronged fork, and I love to drink the choicest vintage of Rhine or Rhone, without at all caring whether I put my lips to a golden cup which Benvenuto hath wrought, or to a calabash which Quako hath scooped before supper.’
So saying, the pearl merchant started the cork from one of the flasks, and I tasted certainly the most delicious draught which ever tingled on my palate.
‘Ha!’ quoth my entertainer, as I held out the empty cup to be refilled, ‘you find that better than even the most skilful compound of rye brandy and bilge water. C’est bien alors—you have a palate, which I grieve to say many gentlemen of your kind and profession possess not, preferring the hot strong drinks of Jamaica, and Tortugas taverns, even, to such adorable nectar as this. Why, man, hold out thy glass again, the grand Louis himself cannot fish up a choicer flask from the most sacred crypt beneath the marble pavements of Versailles.’
Talking in this way—relating to me strange anecdotes touching great generals and statesmen, and even kings, with whom my host, to believe his words, had held familiar converse, and the moral of all these stories being, that the generals and statesmen and kings in question were as stupid, and as easily to be gulled and laughed at, as mere ordinary mortals—the supper and one of the wine flasks were soon despatched. Then, placing the fragments in a corner, Peralta produced a[Pg 326] sort of purse or bag of filigree workmanship, in bright silver, and which seemed to be the only thing of price in his dwelling—always excepting the meats and wines—and taking from it some tobacco of most delicate savour, we began to smoke and discuss the second bottle, which was of a different kind from the first, the wine being of a deep rich red tinge, and coming, as he told me, from Dijon, in Burgundy.
While we sat thus, my entertainer took almost all the conversation to himself. He spoke of things new and strange to me: of the crown jewels of mighty potentates pledged to rich Hebrews dwelling in the filthy back lanes of the cities of Europe—in the Jewry of London, the Judenstrasse of Frankfort, and the Ghetto of Rome.
‘And your brave Christian goes past, stopping his nose for the savours of fish fried in oil, and elbowing and jostling the hook-nosed, shabby old men who make way, with many a ‘Give you good e’en, my lord;’ and ‘Faugh!’ says he, ‘these stinking unbelievers; why be they not packed bodily off to their holy city again’—and so passes he by, to kneel, and cringe, and kiss the king’s hand; while all the time—ha! ha! ha!—that very king is thinking and pondering in his small mind how best he can squeeze the next subsidy out of his faithful cities and towns, and so release the brightest jewel in the regalia, now held in pawn by old Isaac, or old Jacob, or old Abraham, the very dirtiest, raggedest, yellowest-skinned and hookedest-nosed of the whole brotherhood—ha! ha! ha!’
The pearl merchant said this with so much gusto, and laughed with so much glee, that I began to think he must be one of the fraternity himself. He seemed to divine my thoughts, for, as if I had spoken them, he, as it were, replied—
‘No, no, no! Señor Buccaneer, although I have much traffic with the seed of Abraham, I am none of their kindred; were I such, I would be wiser than to come here to live in a sty on this scorching coast, driving hard bargains for sick oysters.’
[Pg 327]
My entertainer then went on with his stories of European courts, and I was listening with open mouth, as he told, with many a quip and many a sneer, how, under the guidance of one Chiffinch, he had one night passed up the back stairs at Whitehall to hold a secret interview with Louise de Querailles, since Duchess of Portsmouth, touching certain jewels which it was convenient to raise money upon until there should come a remittance from the court of Versailles, through Monseigneur Barillon, the ambassador of Louis; when all at once there came a loud rap, accompanied by a shrill whistle, at the door. Peralta started quickly up, but without appearing at all discomposed, and opening the door with speed, a handsome fellow, a mulatto, dressed like a sailor, bounded in, exclaiming at the same moment, in a loud whisper:
‘Juan and Blanco are both detected!’
Then seeing me, he stopped as suddenly as though he had been shot. But Peralta speedily reassured him.
‘Go on, man; go on. He who standeth there is my friend; he is one of us. Go on. Have they confessed?’
‘All,’ replied the mulatto. ‘They first told the truth, and then a great deal more than the truth, in hopes the better to save their necks. I squeezed in with them into the fort, and heard it all. The soldiers are coming. I heard the order given.’
Peralta stood still for a moment, and then said hurriedly, ‘Doth it blow?’
The mulatto replied, that there was a light air only, from the eastward.
‘With the tide two hours on the ebb. That will do well. Disco is on board the piragua?’
The mulatto nodded eagerly. Peralta turned to me—‘I suppose,’ quoth he, ‘you have no objection to make a start of it this very hour?’
‘None, none,’ I replied; wondering with my whole soul at the meaning of this strange scene.
‘Follow me, then, and do as I do,’ replied Peralta. He swallowed his last cup of wine, and smiled when he saw me copying his example to the letter. Then, blowing[Pg 328] the lamp out, we all three sallied forth into the night, walking quickly but cautiously amongst the scattered huts. I knew that it was no time for questions, so put none, though I was almost bursting with curiosity. In a minute or two we heard the measured tramp of soldiers advancing, and presently the clash of their arms and the gleam of their lamps burst forth together as they marched round the corner of a small street, followed by a great many Indians. There was a hollow place close by where we stood, with ridges of oyster shells on either side. Into this Peralta sank suddenly, flinging himself flat upon the ground, while the mulatto and I followed his example. In a minute the soldiers marched by, with their attendant rout of Indians gabbling and chattering very eagerly.
‘Now,’ quoth Peralta, ‘for the beach, and make as little noise as you can in running.’
With these words off he set, going over the ground much faster than to look at him I should have thought possible. However, the mulatto and I kept close behind him, meeting nobody, although we heard a distant tumult of voices in the ranchiera, and the tramp of people running hither and thither. There were half a dozen skiffs and canoes moored to as many stakes rising from a small slippery jetty, and sheering backwards and forwards as the current of the ebbing tide ran swiftly beneath them. Into the outermost of these skiffs Peralta leaped as nimbly and steadily as if he had been a waterman at Whitehall Stairs, we following closely upon his heels; but just as we had, as by instinct, sat down to the oars, Peralta cried out to us to hold, and then stepping back upon the jetty, very coolly cast loose the painters of the whole of the remainder of the boats from their fastenings, and gathering the ends of the ropes together, as a coachman does his reins, he shuffled back again into the stern sheets, casting off our moorings as he passed by, and then, with a low chuckle to himself, we pushed off and rowed into the stream, the squadron of boats following in our wake.
[Pg 329]
‘Pull away, my good fellows,’ Peralta then said, taking an oar out of one of the skiffs behind us, ‘I will steer you.’ Our course was down the stream, and we swept along very rapidly, while, looking back, we could see, by the lights which came dancing all down the beach from the houses, that the Spaniards were in hard pursuit. In a minute more a cluster of these lanterns shone upon the jetty, and instantly their bearers raised a clamour and shouting that all the boats were gone. Señor Peralta only laughed to himself.
‘Well,’ he muttered in a moment or two, ‘it is a shabby way to leave old friends, but needs must when the devil or an angry Spaniard drives.’
All this time we were shooting swiftly down the river, the broad surface of which, gleaming in the starlight, now began to heave and undulate, as the swells of the sea, rolling over the bar, affected it. As we pulled, Peralta, taking advantage of a great shout faintly heard from the shore, hailed, ‘Disco! Disco, ahoy!’
A long shrill whistle was the reply, and, looking round, we saw the low dusky form of the piragua, with her two high raking masts, and, pausing on our oars, we heard the rush of the tide against her sharp bows.
‘Disco is all awake,’ said Peralta, and in a moment more we were alongside and tumbling into the piragua, which, notwithstanding her very considerable size, was so light as to rock violently as, one by one, we leaped over her gunwale.
Disco himself, a Mosquito Indian, as I judged him, appeared to have been just aroused by the clamour on shore, and he asked eagerly what the matter was.
‘The matter,’ said Peralta, ‘is, that we must get to sea as soon as we can. Thank God the breeze comes fresher—that puff quite ruffled the water. Jenipa,’ this was to the mulatto, ‘jump forward and cut the cable—no time for weighing. Disco, get a sweep or an oar out on the larboard bows to cant her head round. Lindsay, bear a hand, my man, and get the canvas upon her, or[Pg 330] some of our friends ashore will be swimming down upon us with their knives in their teeth.’
The coolness of Peralta was capital to see. Just as Jenipa’s knife went with a cheep through the strands of the hemp, Disco’s oar dashed into the water, and the stream catching the larboard bows of the piragua, she swung round with her head towards the shore we had just left, while Peralta, who worked as though he had been afloat all his life, flung loose the foresail from the long supple bamboo yard, and then both of us clapping on to the haulyards with all our might, the light canvas, all dripping with the night dew, rose steadily to the top of the mast, and then catching the faint puff of the sea breeze, which has but little power when it blows in the night-time, the sail swelled gracefully out, while Peralta, with the sheet in his hand, leaped aft, catching hold of the tiller, and calling to us all to get the mainsail upon the piragua. We were, as the reader may guess, in no humour for trifling, and accordingly the big lugsail was very soon hoisted by rapid jerks, up the mast, and when, after having made fast the haulyards, and trimmed the sheet aft, I paused a moment and looked round, I was quite bewildered. The breeze was hardly sufficient to keep the wide sails sleeping. I heard no loud rushing gurgle, such as a vessel makes travelling fast through the water; yet the lights upon shore were flying by us as though we were borne on horseback towards the sea—the great white flakes and stripes of froth which had floated into the river from the bar, glanced past, showing like light veins and streaks in dark marble—while the skiffs which Peralta had cut loose were almost out of sight astern.
I uttered an exclamation of wonder, at which Peralta laughed pleasantly.
‘Your Will-o’-the-Wisp may be fast, Señor Buccaneer,’ he said, ‘but no craft that ever came off the stocks of European ship-builders will sail with the boats which the Indians—savages we call them—can scoop with rude tools out of a single glorious tree. Do we not move like an apparition—a sea spirit? Let the Spaniards chase us[Pg 331] in their clumsy wooden boxes, the piragua will earn her right to her name though all the navy of Old and New Spain were flashing in her wake. I call her the “Ghost;” does not she glide like one fleeting to the sepulchre at the first glimpse of the light of the morning?’
I looked at Peralta, beginning to suspect that the sudden flurry, coming after the humming wine, caused him to vapour a little—but, if it were so, he very soon came to himself.
‘Hark!’ said Disco, ‘the surf on the bar.’
‘And see,’ added Jenipa, ‘the lights of the Pearl Fleet close to in the offing.’
‘Forward, and look out, both of you,’ cried Peralta, sharply. ‘Keep your eyes open on either bow.’
Meantime I crouched down by the steersman on the weather-quarter. The lofty lights of the frigate were much further to sea than the squadron she guarded. Indeed, the great ship cared not for approaching too closely the many banks and spits of sand, which run out from the bar, and over which most of the smaller barks could float very well. The leading ships, however, appeared to be as close to the bar on one side as we were on the other.
‘Now,’ said Peralta, ‘grant that the stupidity of those fellows on shore will keep them from making any signal to their comrades out at sea.’ But the words were hardly out of his mouth, when the water and the sky were lit up with a mighty flash, and the loud report of a great gun—a small battery of which was planted before the fort—came rolling down the river; and immediately afterwards a straggling volley of small arms rattled all along the bank, as though the soldiers were dispersed and running down towards the sea. By this time, the white water on the bar was close ahead.
‘Starboard—starboard. Keep her a little away, master, the channel is on the lee-bow,’ cried Disco. The course of the piragua was altered accordingly, and glancing ahead, I saw the streak of dark water, leading to the open sea; at the same time that the fleet of pearl fishers[Pg 332] answered the alarm from ashore, by kindling torches, waving lanterns, and shouting and blowing horns, just as they had done the night that the privateer had swooped down in the centre of them, and carried off one of the very best in his clutch. At this moment, we having drawn clear of the sand hills on shore, the breeze freshened, sweeping down the coast, heavy with the dew of the night air. The light sails swelled stiffly out, the sheets tautened, the thin supple masts swayed and creaked, and the few ropes which stayed them upon the weather-side stretched out as rigid as iron-bars. And yet the piragua flew by every swell which rolled in from the offing—not plunging into the great green seas, and flashing the foam sparklingly up into the air, but moving rather like a bird, which, with spreading and far-stretched pinion, just glances over the sea, rather flying than swimming—borne more by the winds than the waves. Truly, I had never sailed in so wonderfully-fashioned a craft—so thin and slight was her construction, that she appeared, as it were, to yield, and bend, and quiver in the seas—but ever on, gaily and lightsomely, she went, sliding, as it were, without noise and without shock, leaping with a quick, buoyant, bounding motion, right over and over the swells, which now, as the water shoaled upon the bar, began to roll by us, white with milky foam. Verily, Peralta did well when he likened his piragua to a noiseless gliding ghost.
While I was still wrapped in amazement at the performances of the canoe, she was flying across the bar in the very midst of the fleet of pearl fishers. The whole thing passed over me like a vision—a dream of flashing foaming water, plunging and dripping ships, with their canvas flapping, and their booms, and yards, and ropes, creaking and moaning, and rattling together—of fierce, eager faces, and hurrying, dusky forms, running on the decks, leaping into the riggings, flashing their torches and lanterns; shouting, yelling, and hailing the piragua and Peralta to lie to, and put about—and some of them flourishing glimmering knives and firing pistols in the air.
[Pg 333]
All this, I say, appeared to pass by me like a vision, or a dream—and it only lasted for a few brief moments—for the piragua, which was steered in a fashion which made me look upon Peralta as a sailor rather than a merchant, flew through the panic-struck squadron, who could no more catch her, than they could the shadow of her tall sails upon the water. Once, and once only, a heavy hook or grapnel, attached to a stout line, was flung by a lusty arm, and lighted in the piragua’s fore-rigging, but even before the rope had tightened, Disco leaped to the spot, his knife flashed, the severed hemp fell back into the sea, and the useless iron tumbled down into the bottom of the canoe. The next moment we were fairly at sea, with the whole of the squadron, save one or two loiterers, behind us. Just then the frigate, who was a couple of miles or so in the offing, fired a heavy cannon, and showed a number of lights, by which we saw swarms of men, rushing from the high carved bulwarks into the rigging, as if they designed to make sail in all haste.
‘Ho! ho! ho!’ laughed Peralta. ‘Here comes the elephant chasing the weasel, and the elephant thinks that the best way to begin the race is to roar a little.’
And, indeed, any attempt of the big ship to follow us would have been just about as hopeless a chase as that to which Peralta had likened it. So, after firing a few more guns, whether with shot in them or not we neither knew nor cared, she stood cautiously in for the bar of the river, sending her boats before her, as we conjectured, to learn the cause of all the uproar. Meantime we had struck a light, keeping the lantern, however, well masked, and then setting the head of the boat about nor-nor-west, that being as near the wind as we could lie, and at the same time make good way through the water, we trimmed the sails neatly, and cried, ‘Northward Ho! for Jamaica.’
For about an hour, during which time little was spoken, Peralta held the helm. He then called us all round him, and apportioned the watches in the ordinary seaman fashion—I being placed with Disco, and he taking his turn of duty with Jenipa. This settled, we tossed[Pg 334] up whose watch should begin first, and it falling to the turn of Disco and myself, Peralta gave me the helm, instructing me, as I was not well acquainted with the management of piraguas, to call him if the wind freshened so much as to seem to demand the taking in of a reef. Then creeping beneath the half-deck, which extended from the bows to abaft the foremast, he coiled himself up along with Jenipa, and the pair went very quietly to sleep. During our watch, which was tranquil, I tried to obtain some information from the Indian touching the habits and pursuits of his master, and also relating to the causes of our very sudden departure. But the fellow, although he would talk glibly enough upon the weather, or the piragua, or the manner of our escape, was as close as wax as regarded everything else. Indeed, he reminded me very truly that I ought to know more about the reason of our departure than he, having come from the shore, while he had been sleeping on board the piragua. At that I told him what I had heard from Jenipa, about Juan and Blanco having been detected and taken to the fort, where they had confessed not only the truth, but, as I had heard, more than the truth. The Mosquito man merely shrugged his shoulders, and said he could make nothing of it, although I saw very well, by the intelligent look of the fellow’s face, as the binnacle lamp shone upon his bronzed features, that he understood much more of the matter than he chose to confess. Finding I could make nothing of the Indian, I set myself to consider the whole affair, and putting Peralta’s hints about the way to get pearls cheap, in connexion with what I had actually witnessed and heard, I was not long in arriving at the conclusion, that, in all probability, for every pearl which the merchant bought of the captain of the fishery, he obtained another, and at a very considerably cheaper rate, by dealing quietly with the openers themselves, to which class I concluded that Juan and Blanco must belong. This solution of the riddle seemed the more probable, when I remembered much that I had heard touching the great number of pearls supposed to be[Pg 335] secreted by the Indians, in spite of the utmost vigilance of the Spaniards. Jamaica sloops had, I knew, ere now gone to hover near the Rio de la Hacha, having their agents and correspondents, in various disguises, lurking upon the coast, and of course keeping up communication with the Indian divers and openers; but the adroitness and courage shown by Peralta in living as a Spaniard openly amongst Spaniards, and supporting the character of a regular pearl merchant, communicating with the captain of the fishery, while in reality he was driving the best part of his trade by underhand dealing with the Indians, conducted, no doubt, at great and constant risk of detection and death; all this inspired me with no small respect for the abilities and the nerve of the owner of the piragua. Then I thought with what cool generalship he had conducted the retreat, not losing a moment by delay, yet taking his measures with as great composure and deliberation as if he were departing upon a pleasure cruise. Afterwards, I began to wonder that I had not observed him, when leaving the hut, take with him the amount of pearls which I felt sure that he must have amassed; but a few minutes’ reflection convinced me, from the perfect unconcern with which he had walked out of the hut, not caring to pick up any one article of those strewn about, that all the valuables which he possessed on shore, he carried constantly concealed about his person. Indeed, in the matter of such costly toys as pearls, or precious stones, a man’s own garments formed by far the safest depository to be found in the ranchiera.
While brooding over these things, the night passed silently away. With the grey dawn, Peralta relieved me, and we crept in our turn under the half-deck, and slept until the sun rose high into the unclouded heaven, and the piragua was staggering along under reefed canvas, bending over to the whistling trade-wind, and leaping from sea to sea, like a hunted stag. During the day, little of note occurred. Peralta avoided taking me further into his confidence, and I had tact enough to see that I ought to refrain from seeming to intrude upon his[Pg 336] mystery. As I watched him, however, I often saw him bite his thin lips, and wrinkle his forehead, and clench his hand, as if distressing thoughts haunted him; and at last he broke out, addressing nobody in particular, but speaking moodily to himself—
‘Those poor fellows!’ he cried, ‘those poor fellows Juan and Blanco—I would give every pearl the venture hath brought that they were safe and sound in this piragua. The Spaniards will hang them; nay, indeed, it may have been already done, and their bodies are swinging in this same sea-breeze!’
Here Jenipa interposed very respectfully, and said that no effort we could have possibly made would have sufficed to rescue the Indians, and that we had nothing to reproach ourselves with on that score.
‘No, no,’ said Peralta. ‘We could not have got them out of trouble; but we have been the cause that they fell into it.’
He pondered for a minute. Then putting his hand into his bosom, he drew it forth, the hollow of the palm filled with small pearls, all glistening in the sun, like beads of frozen milk. Then he poured the precious morsels from one hand to the other, the pearls pattering and rattling like chips of shivered glass and pebbles, and began again to speak, like a man who talks in his sleep.
‘Ay,’ he cried, ‘and you will sparkle in the coronets of nobles, or mayhap you will rise and fall on the white bosom of some peerless beauty across the western sea. Little will she think how her braveries have been won. Little will she think that the gems of her adornment are but as coagulated drops of human blood. Red, red, you ought to be, and not of that lying virgin whiteness—red, red, you ought to be, as the guilt of him who hath purveyed you, and the blood of the hapless men who, ere now, are doubtless but as lumps of brown carrion—only good to feed the vultures and the crows!’
At this, I observed Jenipa and Disco exchange curious glances with each other; but Peralta, after musing for a short space further, put the pearls back into their hiding-place,[Pg 337] and resumed, to a certain degree, his usual manner.
‘I doubt not,’ he said to me, presently, ‘but that your acuteness hath taught you much of what last night you burned to know. The two poor savages, of whom I spoke, were indeed my agents among their brethren; and, thanks to their ingenuity and courage, many a rare pearl hath come to my wallet, instead of the poke of their Spanish task-masters. But all is over now. While I remained on shore, I risked the danger borne by my confederates. Had it been within the power of man to have saved them, I would have perilled limbs and life to bring them off, but it fell out otherwise. What is writ, is writ. Adieu, poor Juan and Blanco, and may you find the next world a better one than this.’
Having pronounced this curious sort of funeral oration, Peralta straightway resumed his former demeanour, and I never heard him allude to the subject again. Meantime, we bounded merrily across the ocean, masts bending, canvas swelling, and sheet and haulyard cracking and straining; the blue heaven, with not a cloud to fleck it, all a blaze of azure light and glory above, and the crystal sea foaming, and tumbling, and gambolling beneath the swift piragua, as, with dripping prow and polished sides, she tore away upon her headlong course. My spirits, long drooping under captivity, now came flushing back, sending the young hot blood tingling through my veins. I leaped and danced about the piragua for very cheery-heartedness—Peralta smiling slily at my antics—and sometimes lifting up my voice, I sang an echoing chorus to the music of wind and wave! ‘A day or two,’ I thought, ‘and I shall see, sleeping in the smooth water landward of the Palisades, my gallant schooner, which I love, and hear ringing from beneath her snow-white awning the cheery voices of my old comrades, of Stout Jem, the true-hearted, and Nicky Hamstring, the merry-minded!’
Alas! not so fast, Leonard Lindsay—not so fast! There are perils and sufferings for you, by sea and land, ere you step upon English ground again!
[Pg 338]