"I don't know where it is."
"Nor I; except what Mr. Waterford has in his trunk. I think the men will do well enough, if we only keep them sober."
We spent the whole of the morning watch discussing the various questions of interest that presented themselves. When the sun rose, the breeze freshened, and we had evidently escaped the region of calms. There was nothing like an incident on board, for the sentinel in the steerage performed his duty so faithfully that none of the prisoners had a chance to strike for liberty. We did not see a single sail or the smoke of a steamer in the distance. The discipline of the bark was as good as it had ever been; and everybody, except the occupants of the steerage, was satisfied.
After the forenoon watch was called, we gave the prisoners their breakfast, the watch below attending to this duty. We allowed each one of the slave traders to use his right hand only, and we had force enough to overpower them if they attempted a demonstration.
"How long am I to be kept in this position, Phil?" asked Waterford, evidently very much subdued by the discomforts of his situation.
"I don't know; we can't trust you; and we must keep you so that we shall know where to find you."
"But I am suffering with pain."
"Do you think you suffer any more than one of the poor negroes would, if you had crowded four or five hundred of them into the hold and between decks?"
"I'm not a nigger."
"But a negro has the capacity to suffer as well as you. I hope it will not be necessary to keep you where you are many weeks."