Willis, in the meantime, had safely completed his passage, and when his pursuers made the land, was at anchor twenty miles up a river that makes into the ocean, a degree to the south’ard of St. Felipe de Benguela, busily engaged in taking aboard his cargo of four hundred negroes, that had been waiting at the Factory for him.
It would have afforded much food for a reflective mind, that African scene. At the first glance, all was beautiful; the bright and placid river gently rippling through the mangrove-bushes and tree-limbs, that overhung until they touched its surface; the tall and luxurious forest-trees that lined its banks, with an under-growth of flowering shrubs, and gay creeping vines, hanging from bough to bough in fantastical festoons, the branches alive with chattering monkeys, and lively, noisy parrots, and birds whose brilliant plumage, as they flew from perch to perch in the strong light, resembled gold and jewels; the graceful and fairy-like schooner, with the small boats going and returning; and the long, low factory, with its palm roof, just seen through the leaves on the summit of a hill, a little back from the stream, was beautiful—very beautiful.
But on a closer examination, in that bright river were to be seen myriads of hideous, greedy alligators. The luxurious trees afforded refuge for legions of troublesome insects, and noxious reptiles; in the flowering under-growth lurked deadly and venomous serpents; and most of the gay creeping plants were poisonous; the fairy-looking schooner was discovered to be a sink of moral infamy: the small boats were ladened with miserable captives; and even the partly seen Factory was a den of sin and suffering.
The natural and the artificial harmonized well—both charming, lovely, enticing, but equally corrupt, dangerous, and unwholesome.
In eight days the slaver’s living freight was all received on board. The day before, Willis had dispatched Mateo in a small boat to the mouth of the river, for the purpose of seeing if the coast was clear, and that no men-of-war were in sight; for nearly all the slavers that are captured, are caught just as they make out from the rivers, and before they have sea-room enough to enable them to use to advantage their superior sailing qualities.
The mate, on his return, reporting all safe, the schooner got under weigh, and after working down the river, put to sea with a fair wind, and every inch of canvas set that would draw, and steered for the Isle of Cuba—her cargo all being engaged to a negro trader at the eastern end of the island.
The external appearance of the Maraposa was unaltered, still as beautiful and attractive as when we saw her lying at anchor near Havana. But inboard, a great change had taken place; then, the tidy look of every thing, the quiet and careless expression visible on the countenances of her unarmed crew, gave rise to thoughts of peace and tranquillity; even the bright brass cannon seemed more for ornament than for dealing deathly execution. But now, every sailor had thrust in a belt encircling his waist, a brace of heavy pistols; keen cutlasses were ranged in racks around the masts, ready to be grasped in an instant; the long gun was pointed toward the tafferel, her gaping muzzle ready to be trained on either gangway; in the hold, seen through the main-hatchway, was a black, compact mass of human beings, crowded as close together as it was possible to get them, the light striking upon their constantly rolling eyes, made them appear spots of moving fire; groans, awful and horrible, the sounds of retching, and the incessant clanking of fetters, smote upon the ear. An odor the most nauseating and disgusting, (caused by the confinement of so many in a space so small,) filled the air, and would have overpowered the nerves of any but those accustomed to it; but upon the hardened crew, it had no more effect than upon the schooner, who, rushing through the water with the rapidity of a dolphin, sped on toward her port.
The Maraposa had succeeded in making an offing of about two hundred miles without seeing any thing, when the wind that had been steadily freshening for some time, increased so much that she was obliged to take in her lighter canvas; still increasing, she was compelled to furl all but her fore and aft sails, and had just made every thing snug as they discovered the Scorpion, with her yards braced up, and under close-reefed topsails, about five miles distant, and standing across their bows.
To keep the schooner on in the course she was running would bring her still nearer the brig; and Willis, thinking he might pass without being seen from the Englishman, put his helm a starboard, and brought his vessel by the wind, heading to the south’ard. The sail he carried, going free, was too much for the schooner close-hauled, and he was obliged to close-reef his fore-sail, balance-reef his main-sail, and take the bonnet off his jib, to keep the Maraposa from burying herself.
The look-outs on board the Scorpion were too alert, sharpened as their sights had been by the promised reward, to let the schooner pass unobserved, and in a few moments the brig was seen to ware ship, and shake a reef out of her topsails, and setting whole courses, the brig ploughing through the waves, now burying her bows in the huge billows, as if she were going to dive to the bottom of the ocean, and then rising on their summits until the bright copper was visible the whole length of her keel, seemed to spurn their support altogether, laboring and rolling heavily through the water, she breasted her way, and in consequence of the greater amount of canvas she was enabled to carry, gained on the Maraposa. Willis watched her for some time, hoping to see her courses, that were distended to their utmost, carried away; but the duck, strong, heavy, and new, did its part manfully, and finding his hope was groundless, he endeavored to make more sail upon the schooner.