“Zounds,” cried Jigmaree, “there’s the clink of hammers they are knocking off the fetters of the slaves.”
“If you let the blacks loose,” I sung out in Spanish, “by the Heaven above us, I will blow you up, although I should go with you! Hold your hands, Spaniards! Mind what you do, madmen!”
“On with the hatches, men,” shouted Tailtackle.
They had been thrown overboard, or put out of the way, they could nowhere be seen. The firing from below continued.
“Cast loose that carronade there; clap in a canister of grape, so now run it forward, and fire down the hatchway.” It was done, and taking effect amongst the pent-up slaves, such a yell arose—oh God! oh God!—I never can forget it. Still the maniacs continued firing up the hatchway.
“Load and fire again.” My people were now furious, and fought more like incarnate fiends broke loose from hell than human beings.
“Run the gun up to the hatchway once more.” They ran the carronade so furiously forward, that the coaming, or ledge, was split off, and down went the gun, carriage and all, with a crash into the hold. Presently smoke appeared rising up the fore-hatchway.
“They have set fire to the brig; overboard!—regain the schooner, or we shall all be blown into the air like peels of onions!” sung out little Jigmaree.
But where was the Wave? She had broke away, and was now a cable’s length ahead, apparently fast leaving us, with Paul Gelid and Wagtail, and poor little Reefpoint, who, badly wounded as he was, had left his hammock, and come on deck in the emergency, making signs of their inability to cut away the halyards; and the tiller being shot away, the schooner had become utterly unmanageable.
“UP,—and let fall the foresail, men—down with the fore tack cheerily now—get way on the brig, and overhaul the Wave promptly, or we are lost,” cried I. It was done with all the coolness of desperate men. I took the helm, and presently we were once more alongside of our own vessel. Time we were so, for about one hundred and fifty of the slaves, whose shackles had been knocked off, now scrambled up the fore hatchway, and we had only time to jump overboard, when they made a rush aft; and no doubt, exhausted as we were, they would have massacred us on the spot, frantic and furious as they evidently were from the murderous fire of grape that had been directed down the hatchway.