Three heavy boats were slung amidships on booms. Forward of these a galley was built or lashed upon the deck, and from its window appeared the black head of an African. We went close to the water’s edge and Henry hailed.
“Th-war-bull-yah! Ahoy!” he bellowed.
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Ha-Yah-Wah, ahoy!” he bellowed again in answer, and the nigger in the galley waved a white rag in reply.
“May the sharks eat me, you dock wrastler, but that’s a queer name for a fine ship! How do you call her?” I asked.
“He’s comin’ now,” said Henry, with a grin. “Names is mostly just sounds, an’ furrin sounds is just like others, only different. We’ll go aboard her, and you can see the old man an’ settle with him. Don’t be afraid o’ high pay. He’ll give it.”
In a few minutes a boat left the barque from the side opposite us, where it had been out of sight. It rounded under her stern and came toward us, with the nigger standing aft sculling with the peculiar swing of the Bahama conch. He landed almost at our feet, and Henry motioned me to jump aboard.
“Ole man aboard, hey?” asked Henry, stepping in after me.
“Yassir, disha boat just done taken him abo’d. He’s done expected mos’ all han’s afo’ dis.”
“Well, take us over,” said Henry, and he settled himself heavily upon a thwart.