Chapter Two.
Blackberrying at Sea.
That night the Nautilus was pretty close inshore, as soon as she could approach without being seen. Every light was out, the sail had been reduced, and they were gliding slowly along, watching the mouth of a river about twenty miles south of Port Goldby. They had been lying off here for days, waiting for the news the British agent had been trying hard to obtain for them, so as to enable the officer in command of her Majesty’s cruiser to strike a severe blow at the horrible traffic being carried on by swift-sailing schooners and barques trading between the West Coast of Africa and the southern ports of the United States.
The Nautilus had been for weeks upon the station, and so far all her efforts had proved vain. But now very definite information of the sailing of a large schooner from Palm River had been obtained, and everyone on board was in a most profound state of excitement. The night-glasses were being used, and as the vessel cruised to and fro off the mouth of the river, it did not seem possible for a fishing-boat to get away, leave alone a large schooner. This would be sure not to leave the river till the turn of the tide, two hours after dark, when she was expected to drop down with her cargo of unfortunates, collected at a kind of stockade by a black chief, who was supposed to be working in collusion with a merchant, whose store up the river had been ostensibly started for dealing in palm oil, ivory and gold dust with the above chief, a gentleman rejoicing in the name of Quoshay Dooni.
Captain Maitland’s plan had been well carried out, for the haze had helped him; and after sailing right away, the vessel had crept close in at dark; and as night fell with all the suddenness of the tropics, she had reached the mouth of the river as aforesaid unseen.
After listening impatiently for some time, orders were given, and a couple of boats were lowered, each furnished with lanterns for signalling, of course kept hidden; and the monkey episode being for the time forgotten, Mark Vandean obtained permission to go in the first cutter, Bob Howlett being sent in the second.
“Whether we catch them or no,” thought Mark, as the boat kissed the water, “it will be a bit of a change.” Then, after a few whispered orders given to the second lieutenant, who was in charge, the two boats pushed off, the men dipping their muffled oars gently, and after separating for a couple of hundred yards, both cutters made their way silently through what appeared to be a wall of blackness, while each ear was alert to catch the slightest sound—the object being to make sure that the slaver did not slip down the river in the darkness, and pass the Nautilus unseen.
“Keep that sail well over the lanterns, Dance,” whispered the lieutenant to the coxswain; “don’t show a glimmer, but mind that they are kept burning.”