“Well, that may be your feeling, but it’s not mine.”
“Nevertheless, sir, as it is, to say the least of it, very unlucky, you will oblige me by yielding to my request.”
“Nonsense!—just to humour your superstitious feeling.”
“We are not in port yet, Mr Higgins; and I must insist upon it you do not fire. You have taken my gunpowder, and I cannot allow it to be used in that way.”
During this altercation I observed that many of the sailors had come aft, and, although they said nothing, were evidently of the same opinion as the captain. I was aware that there was a superstitious feeling among the seamen relative to these birds, but I had never seen it so strongly exemplified before.
The mate gave a wink to the captain, behind the passenger’s back, and made a motion to him to go forward, which the captain did.
The passenger again raised his gun, when it was seized by two of the seamen.
“You must not fire at these birds, sir!” said one of them.
“Why, you scoundrel?—I’ll give you the contents of both barrels if you don’t leave my gun alone.”
“No, you won’t—you’re not among niggers now, master,” replied the seaman; “and as you have threatened to shoot me, I must take the gun from you.”