The Cruise of the Nonsuch Buccaneer

by Harry Collingwood

The village of Lukabela—so named after its chief—did not favourably impress George Saint Leger, when the little party presently reached it. It was the young Englishman’s first introduction to actual savagedom, and the filthy condition of the huts and their surroundings, the lean and hungry look of the pack of snarling village dogs which rushed out to meet them, red-eyed with semi-starvation and ferocity, and with bared fangs, ferocious as wild beasts and only restrained from attack by the presence of the native escort, and the overpowering reek of many mingled forms of dirt and decay which pervaded the place, were in the last degree repulsive to the somewhat fastidious young man. But this was only a first impression, and it quickly yielded to one of admiration when, as the villagers poured out of their huts to learn the cause of the unwonted excitement of their dogs, George noted with appreciative eyes the splendid physique of the men and women who constituted its inhabitants. They were of mixed breed, ranging from the robust, full-blooded African negro to the slimmer and slighter figure of the Central American Indian with long, straight, black hair and copper-coloured skin. But these were the extreme types; the majority were a mixture of the two races, and the mingling of African and American blood appeared to have had a beneficent effect upon both, the product being an individual of less bulky frame perhaps than his negro progenitor, but lithe, active, supple, and apparently of tireless endurance, superior in intelligence, courage, and good looks to either of the extremes.

The appearance of the two white men, escorted by half a dozen of their own tribe, but apparently not as prisoners, was productive of tremendous excitement among the villagers, to whom such an occurrence was almost unique, for they had only known it to occur once before; but the excitement soon became passive when the leader of the party who had found George and Dyer explained in a few words that the strangers were Englishmen and friends of El Draque, and that they had landed from a big canoe, in which they had crossed the Great Water, in order to obtain certain information concerning the city of Nombre.

The tale was scarcely told when there emerged from a hut somewhat larger than the others an individual who, in addition to the apron round his loins, wore a cloak composed entirely of feathers of the most varied and beautiful colours, worked into a sort of pattern, and a coronet made of wing and tail feathers bound about his brows. This was of course Lukabela, the village chieftain, and as George beheld the man coming forward attired in all his finery, he more than suspected that Lukabela had purposely delayed his appearance in order to gain time for the assumption of those symbols of his rank.

Lukabela, petty chieftain of the Cimarrones, was certainly a very fine and imposing figure of a man, as tall as George, with a body and limbs that might have been modelled by a Greek sculptor, and a rather small head. His features were well shaped, his expression keenly intelligent, indomitably resolute, fearless, and somewhat haughty, and there was a certain hardness about the chiselling of his mouth that suggested cruelty. But he listened gravely, yet with a certain restraint, as George explained to him in Spanish the object of his and Dyer’s inland journey; and when, in the course of his explanation, George mentioned that El Draque was a personal friend of his, Lukabela’s reserve vanished, and he cordially invited the two Englishmen to enter his hut and partake of his hospitality. George would fain have declined that invitation; but he perceived that the moment was one when squeamishness must yield to diplomacy; and, bowing gravely, he accepted the invitation, and the two white men followed the black into the interior of his hut.

The refreshment offered to the Englishmen was not of a very inviting character, for it consisted chiefly of raw flesh—of what particular animal it was difficult to say, but it was, luckily, supplemented by a quantity of delicious fruit of different kinds, with a drink of pungent, and slightly subacid flavour, inviting to the palate and wonderfully refreshing in effect, so that, after all, George and Dyer were able to do full justice to their host’s hospitality. At the conclusion of the meal Lukabela produced a bag of deerskin, from which he extracted some dry leaves of a rich brown colour, out of which he deftly manufactured three cigarros, and for the first time in his life George had an opportunity to sample the delights of the curious herb now called tobacco. Truth to tell, he did not altogether like the experience; the smoke had a tendency to get into his throat and nostrils, choking him and making him sneeze violently; but Dyer, who had sampled the weed on his previous voyage, and liked it, smoked his cigarros as avidly as Lukabela himself; and after the tobacco had been solemnly consumed the chief, who was now in a very placid humour, confessed himself ready to talk and eager to afford his white brothers all the information and help in his power.

It was not help, however, that George wanted just then, as he explained with all the diplomacy he was able to summon to his aid; he informed Lukabela that all he required at that moment was the fullest information possible relative to the defences of Nombre de Dios and the strength of its garrison; and this the Cimarrone was fortunately able to give, for it chanced that he had been in the immediate neighbourhood of the town only a week or two before, and, from a hiding-place beside the road, had actually beheld some five hundred soldiers march out en route for Panama, to which place they were returning after having escorted the last gold-train of the year across the isthmus and guarded it in Nombre until it had been shipped and carried safely out to sea. The garrison remaining to guard the town he estimated at less than two hundred, inclusive of the artillerymen who manned the shore battery. Asked what he could tell relative to this same shore battery, Lukabela sketched upon the floor of his hut, with the aid of a charred stick, a rough plan of the town and harbour, upon which he indicated the situation of the battery, giving also the number of guns which it mounted. This completed the measure of the information which he was in a position to furnish, but he added that if any further intelligence was required his English brothers had only to specify it, and he would see that it was at their disposal within four days. Time, however, was now of the utmost value to George; he was burning with impatience to get into the town and ascertain, if he might, his brother’s fate, and he believed he had now acquired enough knowledge to enable him to accomplish at least the first of those two objects; he therefore rose to bid the chief farewell, at the same time presenting him with a necklace of big, vari-coloured beads which Lukabela accepted with obvious yet dignified delight. Then he called a man to whom he spoke for a few moments in the peculiar language of the tribe, afterward explaining to George, in Spanish, that he had given instructions that they were to be guided back to the creek by an easier and more direct route than that by which they had come. He also added that if at any future time George should need the assistance of the Cimarrones all that he had to do was to either come or send and ask for it, and it should be his.

The preparations for the descent upon Nombre were all completed in good time before sunset, after which the crew were sent to early supper, and then directed to turn in and secure a few hours’ rest before making the start, and this they all did with the exception of the dozen who, under the purser, were to remain and take care of the ship during the absence of the rest, and these kept watch while the others slept.

The night proved admirably adapted for such an expedition as the one contemplated; it was fine, and starlit except when masses of cloud came driving slowly up before the trade-wind and obscured the heavens for a space; although even then the stars in the unclouded portions of the firmament afforded a sufficient amount of light to enable the adventurers to see where they were going, and to distinguish the half-dozen boats that constituted the flotilla. The trade-wind in the offing was blowing a moderate breeze, and there was a young moon, but it would set early, some two hours indeed before the moment at which the expedition was timed to start. George and his officers had fixed upon two o’clock in the morning as the most suitable time for the attack upon the town, and it was estimated that the run from the creek to Nombre, under sail, would occupy about four hours; but in order to allow a small margin for unforeseen contingencies it was arranged that the start should be made at half-past nine o’clock in the evening; at nine o’clock, therefore, all hands were called, and after partaking of a good second supper which they found awaiting them, they were finally inspected and ordered down into the boats, which pushed off from the ship punctually at the moment arranged.

The creek in which the Nonsuch rode concealed was so completely land-locked that not a breath of air stirred within it as the boats left the ship’s side, the surface of the water was mirror-like in its absolute placidity, and it was only when the men began to descend into the boats, rocking them more or less as they entered them, and so sent a few ripples undulating away across the glassy surface, or when some fish stirred in the depths below, that the phosphorescence latent in the black water awakened and sent forth little threads and evanescent gleams of sea-fire. The complete absence of wind in the creek rendered it necessary that the men should take to their oars when getting under way, and then, indeed, as the blades dipped and rose, the placid surface broke into swirling patches and streaks of brilliant light that enabled the ship-keepers to watch their comrades’ progress, and trace it until the boats rounded the point and disappeared.

The calm continued until the boats had made an offing of about a quarter of a mile, when the first faint breathings of the land breeze made themselves felt, then the muffled oars were thankfully laid in, the sails hoisted, and before a steadily strengthening breeze the boats stood off the land upon a diagonal course which not only made the land breeze a fair wind over the larboard quarter, but also carried them toward Nombre while it swept them out toward where the trade-wind was blowing. The boats sailed in line ahead; and when, as was soon the case, their relative speeds had been determined, they were made fast in a string by a stout warp, with the fastest boat leading and the rest following in the order of their speed.