The shrill tone of the boatswain’s pipe, was soon heard, and the celerity with which the anchor was got, catted and fished, and sail made upon the schooner, proved her crew to be both active and efficient, if they were of many colors; for in five minutes after the call was first sounded she was under sail, moving down the river, and in twenty more was standing away from the shore of Cuba, with a fresh breeze, at the rate of eleven knots an hour, bound to the coast of Africa.
The Maraposa was seven days out, and it had just struck four bells in the mid-watch; the night was clear and star-light; a fresh wind was blowing from the southward and eastward, making it about three points free for the schooner—her best trim for sailing; naught was to be heard on her decks but the ripple of the water, as it curled up and divided before her wedge-like bow; so deathly silent was every thing, that had it not been for the figure of the man at the wheel, the mate leaning against the weather bulwark, and the outline of the look-out on the cat-head, giving evidence of human agency, she would have seemed some ocean-spirit, cleaving its way through its native element; the rest of the watch stowed away between the guns, sleeping, or, in sailor phrase, “caulking,” were invisible, when the look-out on the fore-topsail yard sang out, “Sail ho!”
This sound, so agreeable to the ears of a merchantman, has a very different effect upon the tympanum of a slaver—for, expecting in every sail to find an enemy, they desire no greetings on the ocean.
The mate, instantly aroused, called out in quick, short tones, “Where away?”
“Dead astern, sir,” answered the look-out.
“Can you make her out?”
“No, sir, not yet; she’s square-rigged, but so far I can’t tell whether brig or ship.”
“Very well; a stern chase is always a long one. Keep your eye on her, and let me know when you can make her out.”
“Ay, ay, sir.”
But it was not until after daybreak that they were able to make out the character of the sail—for the vessel had never yet been met with that could overhaul the Maraposa, going free in smooth water, and the stranger had not gained a foot on her. She was now discovered to be a large man-of-war brig, under a press of canvas, apparently in pursuit of the slaver. The officer of the watch went below to report to the captain, and was surprised by the eager voice with which he asked if he had ever seen the brig before, and if he knew her build—for the schooner had been chased so often, that her crew knew all the men-of-war on the station; and having always escaped with impunity, they had the most perfect reliance in the superior qualities of their own craft, so much so, that a vessel astern was regarded with scarce more interest than a floating log. With his curiosity, therefore, a good deal excited to understand the unusual anxiety of his captain, the officer replied that he thought the strange sail was an Englishman, and was sure she was an entirely new vessel; and, returning on deck, took a long and close survey of the brig, to see if he could find any thing about her more alarming than in the hundred other vessels of the same class that had pursued them; but all he could discover was, that she was a large ten-gun brig, of English build, and seemingly new; and laying down the glass, would have given himself no further trouble about the matter, had not the captain, just coming on deck, picked up the telescope, and after one steady look at the Englishman, called out, “Man the top-sail and top-gallant clew-lines and buntlines; settle away the halyards; let go the sheets; clew up; lower away the flying-jib;” and looking over the bulwarks a moment, to note the decreasing speed of the schooner, ordered the fore-sail to be lowered.