The island pirate, a tale of the Mississippi

by Mayne Reid

The intentions of the planter pirate were clear enough. His three confederates would carry the boat on to New Orleans, where the cargo could easily be disposed of. No doubt they had a ready way of doing this through some respectable cotton-broker in collusion with the gang. Their object in taking so much trouble to alter the markings was of course to prevent identification. This would be effectual, since all cotton bales are alike—as much as eggs, peas, or sheep. The huge parallelopipedon covered with coarse canvas "bagging," and confined in its cording of hemp, is a thing not to be sworn to. Remove the mark, and it may belong to anybody. The two hundred bales sent down from Tennessee, worth over twelve thousand dollars, were for the time the property of Nat Bradley, as could be proved by his plantation-mark! Once sold by him, no man could reclaim them, that is without other evidence to substantiate the claim.

But for what I had witnessed upon the island, this would have been wanting. The boat that carried them would be easily put aside. Like all of its kind, it would be sold at the levee wharf, at once, to be broken up for firewood; or, what in this case was more likely, taken down the river, and sunk during the darkness of the night.

Would Bradley himself go down in the flat? We thought not. It would scarce comport with his character of rich planter and proprietor. Most likely he would follow it in one of the steamboats, from Natchez, or some near port. He may have taken the very one that brought Walter Woodley to his brother's plantation.

He could hail it from some landing below.

What would be our best course to pursue?

Henry's counsel was, that we should all three proceed to New Orleans, taking advantage of the first boat that came down the river, or what would be better still, riding post-haste to Natchez, and getting a boat there—one of the regular packets from that place to the great city below. By this means we might anticipate the sale of the cotton, and so recover it, at the same time bringing to justice the scoundrels that had stolen it.

This scheme might have answered well enough as regarded the three confederates. But, how about their chief? It would leave him a loophole of escape, and this could not be thought of. For my part, I was determined to punish the man who had twice made an attempt upon my life. I looked upon Black as but the representative of Bradley.

We had no proof to connect the latter with any of the crimes that had been committed. I could not swear to having seen him at the lagoon. My oath as to the identification of his voice would be too slight a testimony upon which to convict him, even of connivance. He would deny that he had been present; and as to placing his name upon the cotton-bales, any one might do that without either his knowledge or sanction.

Unless one of the three confederates should turn state's evidence, the chief pirate would escape the punishment he so justly deserved.

It would be a pity that any of the party should have such a chance, and there was no need for it. Let the thing take its course, let the cotton be sold and delivered, and then whether warehoused by a broker, or bought by a bona-fide purchaser, it would become known to whom the purchase-money was to be paid. Then we could discover who was chief of the pirates, and get the whole gang within the meshes of the law.