He said he was determined to go to Greenock, and engage with some merchant vessel bound to Surinam. He had an uncle a planter there, and, of course, when he should arrive, there would be no danger of him; his uncle would procure his discharge from the ship, and the result, that he would become a gentleman. I listened eagerly to this. We had often expatiated on the pleasure of seeing foreign countries, and I resolved to accompany him, not doubting but his uncle would provide for me also, for his sake. Any thing like adventure was always welcome to me, and my mind was soon decided.
We had no money, however, to carry us to Greenock; but I recollected a person who owed my father money, and I proposed to go and ask it in my father’s name. This was the first time I had ventured to do any thing so glaringly dishonest, and I hesitated long. I passed the door a dozen times before I mustered effrontery enough to go in; but it was drawing near the hour of shutting up, and I was obliged to resolve. I went in and asked the money. The candle burned dimly, and I stood as much in the shade as possible, but I am sure he noticed my embarrassment. However, he gave the money, and we hurried out of the town immediately.
We travelled all night, and next morning arrived in Greenock. After getting some breakfast, and brushing ourselves up a little, although we were very tired, we resolved in looking out for a vessel. On inquiry, we learned that there was no vessel in the harbour bound for Surinam. This was a disappointment; but, we thought, if we were once in the West Indies, we would find little difficulty in getting to the desired spot.
The first vessel we came to, was a ship bound for Kingston, Jamaica. We went on board; and, inquiring for the captain, asked if he wanted any men. He looked at us with a smile of contempt, eyeing us from head to foot, ‘Men,’ said he, laying a particular emphasis on the word, (for neither of us exceeded thirteen years of age,) ‘it would be a pretty vessel that would be mann’d with such men as you—Whaur hae ye come frae na? Ye’ll be some runawa weaver callans frae Glasgow, I’se warrant ye; but ye had better gang hame again, for I’m thinkin’ ye’ll like the sea waur than the loom.’ We were galled by his reply; but consoled ourselves with the idea that some one else would be glad to get us.
After trying several other vessels with nearly the same success, at last, tired and crest-fallen, we were going home to our lodging, when an old man, who had seen us going from one vessel to another, accosted us, and asked if we wanted a ship. Replying in the affirmative, ‘you need not want that long,’ said he, ‘for if you go with me, I will soon find one for you. Where do you wish to go?’
‘To Surinam.’
‘Then, you could not have come in a better time, for there is a vessel lying in the roads ready to sail for that place.’
‘Do you think they will take us?’ said we.
‘Oh, to be sure they will, and glad to get you, I’ll take you on board now if you like.’
We assented, and he went to procure a boat to take us on board.