Instantly there was a change among the people, and the man who was about to be my executioner cut the lashings which secured me, and the old man said, “Inglish bery good, Spagnole bery bad. You be Inglish?”
“Yes,” I said, “I’m English, and have been prisoner to the Spaniards.”
“Bery long time,” said the old man, “Hararu make war with Okopa father, and Hararu wife he kill, he picaninny kill. Okopa make slave and sell to Spagnole. Got long time in one Spagnole canoe. Inglish catch Spagnole, and Hararu come back to he country. All Inglish good for Hararu.”
I was now led away into an enclosure in which Hararu and his family lived, and taken into a hut, where a large chest was opened, and Hararu said, “Plenty clothes lib dere; Inglishman take what he want.” I wanted to thank him, but he said, “No good, for Inglishman go all same black man. One time catch clothes, make chop; s’pose chop finished, den make palaver.”
I looked in the chest, which was full of all kinds of clothes and pieces of silk and calico, and after some searching found a shirt, jacket, and trousers which fitted me fairly well, and I put them on. Then Hararu said, “Want hat; hat lib,” and going to another box brought out an old naval officer’s cap, which he gave to me.
When I was dressed he took me into another hut, where I was provided with a dish of some sort of stew (which was very good, except that it was made so hot with peppers that I could hardly eat), some bananas, and a large gourd full of palm wine.
I ate and drank, old Hararu keeping on pressing me to eat more; but I was so anxious to know what the happy change in my treatment was due to that I soon finished, and said to Hararu, who had refused to answer any questions until I was satisfied, that I could eat no more.
Hararu then said: “See, massa, me one time slave for Spagnole. He plenty bad—he flog, he burn, he be all same one bad tief. One time one Englishman he catch Spagnole and take Hararu Sa Leone, where Hararu him call Jack Sprat. Bery good name Jack Sprat—he be English name. Den one English trader come here dis river Ogowai, and me come too. One time here me sabey my fader, my broder, my sister—dey all lib—and den Englishman he gibs me gun, cloth, rum, plenty ting, and me stop here, be one big man. Okopa he be one big tief, but him plenty strong, plenty gun, plenty ting he catch from Spagnole. He sell plenty nigger.”
I explained to Hararu, or Jack Sprat, as he wished me to call him, all that had happened to me since I was capsized in the surf at Whydah, and how I had escaped from the Santa Maria, and seen my father’s brig leave the river.
The old man said, “Dat be so: him Spagnole bad man, Okopa bad man; dey try tief fader ship. Now dey be mad, and s’pose dey hear you lib here dey send catch you and cut troat one time. Big blaggard Okopa.”