He spoke, however, in so unconcerned a way that I had no serious apprehensions on that score.
I had not forgotten my promise to Mammy, and had asked all the blacks I could manage to speak to if they could tell me anything of Cheebo. I need scarcely say that my question was received with a broad grin by most of them. “Plenty Cheebos,” was the general reply. “Dat black fellow Cheebo; and dat, and dat, and dat Quamino,” was added, when I said that such was the name of the father of the Cheebo of whom I was in search, but none of them answered the description of poor Mammy’s son. At length I felt very much inclined to give up my inquiries as hopeless.
Chapter Three.
We enter a river.—Its scenery described.—Receive a visit from the King, and trade with the natives.—The products of Africa, for which we trade, mentioned, and the curious mode in which trade is conducted.—Fever breaks out on board, and several of the crew die.—Sad end of poor Bob.—The boatswain and mates attacked with fever.—More deaths.—The Captain’s unwillingness, notwithstanding this, to leave the river till his cargo is completed.
Standing in towards the coast with the sea breeze we saw before us an opening between two low mangrove covered points, which formed the mouth of the river we were about to ascend. The scarcely ever ceasing rollers, coming across the wide Atlantic, broke on the bar which ran across its entrance with somewhat less violence than on the coast itself. Still there was an ugly looking line of white foam which had to be crossed before we could gain the smooth water within. We hove-to, making the signal for a pilot. A canoe in a short time came off, having on board a burly negro, dressed in a broad brimmed hat, nankeen trousers, and white jacket, with a sash round his waist. He produced several documents to show that he was capable of taking a vessel over the bar.
“Wait bit captain,” he said, “high water soon, and den ship go in smooth—batten down hatches though, case sea break aboard.”
Captain Willis followed this advice; it was well that he did so. “Up helm now captain—bar berry good—plenty breeze.” We stood on with all canvas set; the hands at their stations ready to shorten sail when necessary. Soon we found ourselves mounting to the top of a high roller, then on we glided, till in another instant down we came amid the hissing roaring breakers, their foam-topped summits dancing up on either side, and deluging our decks. I saw our black pilot holding on pretty tightly by the main shrouds—I followed his example, for I expected every moment to feel the vessel’s keel touching the bar, when I knew that if she were to hang there even for the shortest possible time, the following sea might break over her stem, and make a clean sweep of her deck. On she sped though, lifted by another huge roller; downwards we then glided amid the eddying creamy waters on to the calm surface of the river, up which the next minute we were gliding rapidly.
The appearance of the banks on either side was not attractive. As far as the eye could reach was one dense jungle of mangrove bushes, and though we ran on for several miles it in no way improved. The wind died away as we advanced, and the atmosphere became hot and oppressive. I had expected to see pleasant openings, with neat cottages, plantations of maize, rice, and other grain, pepper, palms and palmetos; but instead, a uniform line of the sombre tinted mangrove alone presented itself, the trees just too high to prevent our having a view over them of any more attractive scenery which might have existed beyond.