Mudge and I raised our voices, joined by the crew, who gave way with redoubled vigour. The black, who just then saw the shark coming, began to splash and kick, and to shout pretty lustily. This was not the only peril to which he was exposed, for at the same moment several persons appeared among the trees, with muskets in their hands, and began to fire at him. Happily, one of the bullets aimed at him or at us struck the savage shark, just as it was about to make a dash at him; and, either from the wound it had received, or frightened by our shouts, it suddenly turned round, with a whisk of its tail, and darted away from Blackie.
We immediately dashed on, in spite of the bullets. The black was close alongside, when I saw the monster’s huge form gliding like lightning beneath the surface; his head rising just as, with a violent jerk, we drew the poor fellow into the boat. The disappointed brute made a grab at one of the oars in revenge, though he got nothing but a broken tooth for his pains.
Without stopping to ask questions, Mudge put the boat round, and pulled away for the ship, fortunately not one of us being hit, while the enemy in the bush quickly vanished. As soon as we were out of the line of fire, one of the ship’s guns, loaded with grape, was let fly at the spot from which the shots had come, and greatly contributed to the rapid retreat of Blackie’s pursuers, whoever they were—at all events, of those of them who escaped being hit; but whether any were so, we could not tell. As soon as the boat got alongside, the black sprang on board with considerable activity, showing that he was none the worse for his run and subsequent swim. There he stood, naked as he was born; when an old quartermaster, a wag in his way, brought him a pair of duck trousers, evidently considering that he was not fit, as he then stood, to appear on the quarter-deck of a British man-of-war. Blackie put them on with a grin, shook the water out of his woolly pate, and then, with an air of perfect self-possession, walked aft to where the commander and several of the other officers were standing.
“Me Dicky Popo, please, sar,” he said, giving a haul at his hair; “me loyal British subject—once serve His Majesty—but de nigger slave-catchers find me ashore, carry me off, and sell me to still bigger rascals. Dey ship me aboard wid oder slaves; and den a bigger rascal still take de whole of us on board de Sea-Hawk dere. I seed dat somefing was wrong when dey run up de river, and den I find out dat an English ship chase dem, and come to an anchor inside de bar; den I tink if I run away and get aboard English ship, I know I safe under dat flag.”
As he spoke he pointed to the ensign blowing out from the flagstaff astern. Finding that Dicky Popo, as the black called himself, understood English pretty well, the commander questioned him further, and learned many more particulars about the ship we had just chased. She was the Sea-Hawk, belonging to Havana, fully as large as the Heroine, with as numerous a crew, and carrying two more guns than we did; so that, if well fought, she would prove a formidable antagonist. She had already captured a vessel which had, Dicky Popo said, about a hundred and fifty slaves on board, and was waylaying another, when we somewhat put out her arrangements, and obliged her to run up the very river in which the schooner she had intended to capture was lying. The pirate, not telling the captain of the schooner of his intentions, had persuaded him to assist in defending his vessel in case they should be attacked. For this purpose they had both landed some of their men and guns; and he had also sent on shore the strongest among the slaves, to assist in throwing up fortifications. Dicky Popo, hearing that the corvette had entered the river, took the opportunity, while so engaged, of slipping off, in the hope of getting on board; resolved, should he regain his liberty, to give us information of the preparations made for our reception.
I liked the expression of Dick’s countenance, and was certain from the first that he was an honest fellow. He had been kindly treated on board a man-of-war in which he had served—having been rescued from slavery by her; and he was truly grateful to the English, and anxious practically to show his gratitude. I do not believe the person who talks of his grateful heart, when he takes no pains to exhibit it.
The captain was in no way inclined to change his purpose on hearing of the preparations made by the slavers for their defence. “I know that I can trust to our stout fellows, who will bravely do their duty; while our rascally enemies are fighting with halters round their necks,” he observed to Mr Worthy.
“No doubt about that, sir,” was the answer; “and I hope that it will not take us long to capture the pirate, in spite of the battery on shore, and the assistance the slave-schooner may give her.”
Soon after Dicky Popo had made his appearance on deck, night came on. Notwithstanding the preparations the pirates had been making for their defence, the commander expressed his opinion that they might try to slip by us and get out to sea during the darkness, rather than wait our attack in the river. A sharp look-out was therefore kept, the anchor was hove short, and the watch below lay down on deck, so as to be ready to make sail at a moment’s notice. A boat was also sent some way ahead to row guard, and bring us early information should either of the vessels be seen coming down. We knew, of course, that the pirates were aware of our exact position, but they could not tell that a boat was also watching for them.
The greater part of the night passed by quietly. The middle watch had nearly come to an end when the boat’s oars were heard, and she shortly after dashed up alongside. “The ship is coming down, and will be abreast of us in a few minutes,” said the officer in command. “She was shortening sail when we caught sight of her, and she hopes to escape being seen by dropping past us under bare poles.”