Latitude 19° / A Romance of the West Indies in the Year of Our Lord Eighteen Hundred and Twenty

by Mrs. Schuyler Crowninshield

The first night that we spent in our new home was full of excitement in a pleasant way. The freshness of our beds of green, the odours of the sweet woods which had been so recently washed by the flood, the feeling that our abode was clean, that there were no horrors connected with it, and, above all, that in this secluded nook we should not be discovered, made the night a peaceful one to me. Every one seemed refreshed when daylight broke, and each set himself to accomplish greater tasks than heretofore, during the coming day. The rainy season would soon be here, and we had no notion of being flooded out of our new home. So each one occupied his spare hours in bringing branches and leaves to add to the thatch. The fallen palms of which there were many, were of the greatest service, as the dried leaf of this royal tree is the thatch most used to roof the native houses. The Bo's'n told us that in Santo Domingo they called it yagua. We made seats in and around the house for Cynthia and Lacelle, and the tough and strong vines made excellent hammocks when woven together.

I heard Cynthia asking for the Minion as I left my bed. I did not go to meet and answer her, as I preferred my bath first, beside which, her treatment of me had been so cold and ungracious that I decided to let her make the first advances.

I ran, then, through the wood and toward the cave. Our constant journeys back and forth seemed to have created a path, so that we easily found our way. As I neared the cavern I saw that at the spot of my greatest danger the day before, the ground was uptorn as if a giant ploughshare had passed that way. Great trees with enormous roots sticking high in air were lying strewn about. I had not seen this on my way to the new house, as we had gone to it in a more westwardly direction along the slope of the hill. I struggled through the debris and down along the pirates' side of the cavern. When I came to the entrance which led to the great hall, or the place where it should be, it had disappeared. A stupendous mass of rock and earth had fallen and blocked it entirely. And then suddenly I bethought me of emerging from the cavern yesterday and my meeting the Minion at the entrance. Yes, he had gone in, as I left the cavern, to look for his treasure, and there he must have been when the earthquake, or whatever it was, split off that great mass of rock. In that case, the lad must be imprisoned. I went close to the place and called, but there was no answer. I called louder. All was silence. Then I bethought me of the gallery, and, though I was as tired of the cave as you must be by this, I ran quickly up the hill, crossed the grassy slope at the top, and flew down the other side. I entered our passageway, and, running through by feeling my way along the wall, I soon reached the gallery. I parted the vines in front of me and looked down at the interior. There I saw a surprising sight. Instead of finding, as I expected, the Minion alone, two figures were there—one a tall, light-coloured man, whom I at once recognised as the Haïtien who had held Lacelle captive by the rope on the day that our sailors attacked the party of natives. This, then, was the fourth man. His likeness to Lacelle was very striking, and I at once made up my mind that he was her brother. What he had been intending to do with her I could not determine at the time. I watched to see if he offered the Minion any violence, but, so far from anything of the kind, he seemed to be urging him to get up on the table, the former throne of the Admiral. The Minion, never noted for good manners, roared "No!" while the gentle Haïtien urged him by mounting on the rock himself and holding out his hand encouragingly. He spoke to the Minion in words which I could not understand, but their tone was so kind and gentle that I should have translated them to mean "Come, now! Get up here! I will save you. I shall not hurt you. Do not be afraid!" I have, of course, no idea what the Haïtien really said, but his manner showed that it was something of that kind, for finally the Minion was persuaded to raise one foot to the table and allow the Haïtien to aid him to stand upright upon it. I then saw that the Haïtien had released the great lamp from the vines which hung from the opening in the central top of the cave. He took them in his hand and busied himself in tying them round the Minion's waist. I watched, curious as to what the man intended, ready to call out and frighten him if he were to do the Minion any injury—this from a sense of duty, as the Minion was nothing but a very dead weight on the party.

The Haïtien gathered the vines in his hand and wound them round the boy's body. He twisted some of them like a seat and passed them between the Minion's legs. Yes, I appreciated now that he meant to provide for the Minion's being hauled up from above. But who did he think would perform this act, when to all intents and purposes our party knew nothing as to what had befallen the Minion? Now, I reasoned, I can go to the top of the cavern, call the Bo's'n or the Skipper, and together we can draw the Minion to the top. But I had no reason to do this, for as I watched I saw that the Haïtien, having securely fastened the boy, had sprung with a great leap at the rope of vines, and, seizing it some inches above the Minion's head, he began to raise himself hand over hand to the circular hole in the roof. I thought it now time for me to run to his assistance. I gave one look in the direction where I had laid the dead child. I saw that the stone was laid upon the ground, and I caught a glimpse of some bright ribbons protruding from the cavity. I turned and ran out through the passage and up the slope of the hill. The Haïtien heard me coming. He turned and surveyed me with a frightened look, but he could not drop the Minion, who was suspended like Mahomet's coffin, and so perforce he must continue pulling the rope of vines out through the hole. I laid my hand on the rope, and together we drew the loblolly boy upward and out under the blue of heaven. I had my eye fixed on the Haïtien, for I feared that he would try to escape me, and just as we had given the Minion a secure foothold I slipped my hand suddenly over his fingers. He struggled to get free, but I smiled at him and made the same sort of sounds that I heard him make when urging the Minion to let him rescue him, and after a while he ceased struggling and sat quiet beside me. The Minion untied himself and walked off as if nothing had happened. If he felt at all grateful, he did not express this feeling in words. I wondered that the boy had not starved, as he had been alone in the cave, as far as I knew, for nearly two days; but when I perceived sticking from his pocket a large piece of well-browned fish, I felt sure that the Haïtien had attended to his physical wants.

And now the mystery about the strange presence was accounted for, and Lacelle, who had learned to express herself in our language, though most brokenly, told us how she had come to be where we saw her at first.

She had been captured by a party of blacks, for what purpose I will not now say. There were two of these blacks, and they had left her tied to a tree in the woods. Her brother Zalee and three other Haïtiens had come to her rescue, had cut the rope, and were about to carry her away when a party of white men approached and gave battle. These were our wretched sailors, who had killed three of the Haïtiens and returned to our camp with their prisoner. How their nefarious schemes were frustrated has already been told. Zalee had not had the time to release Lacelle when our sailors attacked him, and he retreated with his comrades, firing and running until the three were shot, and two of our sailors, the ones we buried in the sea, also were laid low. Zalee had witnessed all that we had done for Lacelle, as well as Cynthia's kindness to her that first night when he buried the Haïtiens.

He communicated with Lacelle and begged her to escape with him, but Lacelle had fallen so desperately in love with Cynthia that she would not leave her, and she persuaded Zalee to remain near as a guardian spirit, he in his turn willing to do any menial service for the white people who had rescued his beloved sister, but also ready at a moment's notice to save her from danger.

Explanations are hateful both to him who writes and to him who reads. If you wonder why things were so, I will say only that I can not explain the motives which actuated people in that far-off land and time, and I can repeat only that I am setting down what happened with fidelity and to the best of my belief. And though some occurrences may seem unaccountable, I can only answer that they are facts, and there let all doubt end.

We found Zalee a most useful and friendly creature, and, after we knew him as a living personality, we were all much easier in our minds, for we felt sure that he knew the country and the methods of the people better than we, and that he would bring much valuable knowledge to our aid. We found that he had lived a few miles nearer Le Cap than the place where we first saw him; that he and his sister possessed a little hut in the forest; that they had often made an outing to the cave, and that was the cause of their familiarity with its construction.

I found upon touching Zalee's hands that they were moist and cold, a condition caused probably by his imperfect circulation, which was aided by his always keeping hidden in the damps of the cave. This condition of the young Haïtien, while testifying to a highly nervous organization, aided, without intention on his part, the mystery of his touch and guidance through the cave. Even after we discovered that Zalee was a real personality he shrank from the light of day. His enemies had been many and his sorrows not few, so that he preferred to keep secreted, that should an enemy appear he could in some secret way, himself unseen, devise a mode of escape for his sister, if not for those of the rest of us, with whom he had so generously burdened himself.