the brig adventure, two thousand miles from home, lay now in the strong, silent current of a great tropical river, which seemed to me to have an almost human quality. in its depth and strength and silence, it was like a determined, taciturn man. i felt keenly its subtle fascination; i delighted to picture in my mind its course all the way from the mysterious hills far inland, of which pedro and gleazen and matterson told stories filled with trade and slaves and stirring incidents, down to the low, marshy shore, which had already cast a spell upon me.
for months since that fearful night when we five fled from topham, arnold and gideon north and i had been holding ourselves ready at every moment to stand up against gleazen and matterson and meet them man to man in behalf of my poor, deluded uncle, who now would go slinking about the deck, now would make a pitiful show of his old pompous, dictatorial manner. but when i burst in upon them in the cabin, there had been that in their manner, even after their anger spent itself, which told me more plainly than harshest words that the time for action had come very near.
to arnold, when we were alone in our stateroom, i said, "what would you think, were i to load my pistols afresh?"
he looked curiously at me.
"you think," said he, slowly, "that there is already need?"
"i do," i replied.
i felt a new confidence in myself and in my own judgment.[pg 186] i regarded our situation calmly and with growing assurance. although i did not then realize it, i know now that i was crossing the threshold between youth and manhood.
he gravely nodded.
"it is a wise precaution," he said at last, "although i prophesy that they will use us further before the time comes when we must fight for our lives."
so we both slept that night with new charges in the pistols by our heads, and arnold, very likely, as well as i, dreamed of the utterly reckless, lawless men with whom we were associated. i question, though, if arnold thought as much as i of the stern man in the cane house on the riverbank, or if he thought at all of the girl whose white face and dark eyes i could not forget.
for another day we continued to lie in the river; but the brig, alow and aloft, bustled with various activities. we sorted out firearms on the cabin floor, and charts and maps on the cabin table, and on the spar-deck we piled a large store of provisions. and in the afternoon matterson took captain north in the quarter boat down to the mouth of the river, and there taught him the bearings of the channel.
side by side arnold and i watched all that went forward, here lending a hand at whatever task came our way, there noting keenly how the stores were arranged.
"well, sir," said arnold, quietly, when captain north for a moment stood beside us in preoccupied silence, "are we about to load a cargo of africans?"
"i assure you i'd like to know that," the captain replied, with one of his quick glances.
uncle seth gave me an occasional curt word or sentence—he was in one of his arrogant moods; matterson talked to me vaguely and at length of great times ahead; o'hara[pg 187] watched me with hostile and suspicious glances. and still arnold and i, whenever occasion offered, put our heads together and made what we could of the various preparations. our surmises, time showed, were not far wrong.
and all this while i had watched the clearing ashore and had seen neither the missionary nor any other white man.
when, in the evening, all hands were ordered aft, we on the quarter deck looked down and saw the men standing expectantly to hear whatever was to be said. a thousand rumors had spread throughout the vessel, and of what was really afoot they knew less, even, than arnold and i. there was abe guptil with his kindly face upturned, pedro with his monkey on his shoulder and what seemed to me a devilish gleam in his eye, and all the rest. as they gathered close under us, the light from the lanterns slung in the rigging revealed every one of them to my curious gaze.
"men," said captain north, quietly, "mr. gleazen has asked me to call you together. there are certain things that he wishes to tell you."
as the grizzled old mariner stepped back, cornelius gleazen advanced.
his beaver, donned for the occasion, was tilted over his eye as of old; his diamonds flashed from finger and throat; he puffed great clouds of smoke from his ever-present cigar.
"lads," he cried in that voice which seemed always so fine and hearty and honest, "lads, that there's no ordinary purpose in this voyage, all of you, i make no doubt, have heard. well, lads, you're right about that. it is no ordinary purpose that has brought us all the way from boston. you've done good work for us so far, and if you keep up the good work until the end of the voyage has brought us home again to new england, we ain't going to forget you, lads. no, sir! not me and mr. matterson and[pg 188] mr. o'hara—oh, yes, and mr. upham! we ain't going to forget you."
reflectively he knocked the ash from his cigar. leaning over the rail, he said, as if taking all the men into his confidence, "all you've got to do now, lads, is stand by. captain north will take the brig to sea for one week. there's a reason for that, lads, a good reason. at the end of the week he will bring the brig up off the mouth of the river, and some fine morning you'll wake up and find us back again.
"meanwhile, lads, we're going to make up a little party to go exploring. me and mr. matterson, mr. o'hara, mr. upham, and pedro and sanchez are going. and we are going to take john laughlin with us, too. it's going to be a hard trip, lads, and you'll none of you be sorry to miss it. now, then, lay to and load this gear into the boat. be faithful to your work, and you'll be glad when you see what we're going to do for you."
as he turned away, proud of his eloquence, there was a low rumble of voices.
i looked first at gleazen and matterson and o'hara; then i looked at poor seth upham, once as proud and arrogant as any of them. remembering how in little ways he had been kind to me,—how, since my mother died, his dry, hard affection had gone out to me, as if in spite of him,—i pitied the man from the bottom of my heart. surely, i thought, he must not go alone into the wilds of africa with such men as were to make up gleazen's party.
no one had spoken, except in undertones, since gleazen; some one, i thought, must speak promptly and firmly.
for a moment, as i looked at the hard faces of the men whom i must oppose, my courage forsook me utterly; then the new confidence that had been growing within me once more gave me command of myself. whatever should come[pg 189] of my effort, i was determined that my mother's brother should have at least one honest man beside him. to reason out all this had taken me the merest fraction of the time that it takes to read it.
stepping suddenly forward, i said in a voice so decided that it surprised me as much as anyone, if not more:—
"mr. gleazen, i desire to go with you."
"and i," said arnold lamont.
"you young pup," gleazen bellowed, "who are you to desire this or desire that?"
"then," said i, "i will go with you."
"you will not," he retorted.
i saw out of the corner of my eye that matterson and o'hara were looking at me keenly, but i never let my gaze veer from gleazen's.
"mr. gleazen," i said boldly, "arnold lamont, abe guptil, and i are going to take the places of pedro, sanchez, and john laughlin."
he swore a round oath and stepped toward me with his fists clenched, while the men below us fairly held their breath. in a fist fight the man could have pounded me to a pulp, for he was half as heavy again as i; but at the thought of poor uncle seth with all his property tied up in that mad venture, with his happiness and his very life in the absolute power of that band of godless reprobates, something stronger than myself rose up within me. at that moment i verily believe i could have faced the fires of hell without flinching. thinking of the old days when uncle seth and my mother and i had been so happy together and of how kind he had been to me in his own testy, abrupt, reserved way, i stepped out and shook my fist in gleazen's face.
before he could say another word, i cried, "so help me, unless we three go with you and those three stay, we'll[pg 190] keep seth upham back and sail away in the adventure and leave you here forever."
never before could i have spoken thus lightly of what my uncle should, or should not, do. the thought made me feel even more keenly how helpless the poor man had become, and confirmed me in my purpose.
it was on the tip of my tongue to add that gideon north was to come, too, but i thought of how essential it was that someone whom we—arnold and i—could trust should stand guard upon the brig, and said nothing more, which probably was better, for my words seemed to have struck home.
when i threatened to sail away with the adventure, gleazen glared at me hard and murmured, with a respect and admiration in his voice that surprised me, "you young cock, i didn't think you had it in you."
throwing overboard the butt of his cigar, which made a bright arc in its flight through the darkness and fell into the water with a smart hiss, he smiled to himself.
matterson whispered to o'hara, who touched gleazen's arm. i thought i heard him say, "too honest to make trouble," as they drew apart and conferred together, glancing now and then at my uncle; then gleazen nodded and said, "very well, joe"; and i knew that for once i had come off victorious.
at least, i thought, we are strong enough to stand up for our rights and uncle seth's.
the men quietly turned away and went forward, a little disappointed that the trouble had blown past and the episode had come to naught. but it had added one more issue to be fought out between cornelius gleazen and myself; and though it was over, it was neither forgotten nor forgiven.
i had gone into the waist, where i was watching the[pg 191] arms and provisions that the men were loading into the boat we were to take, when i heard a voice at my ear, "i guess—ha-ha!—you come back with plenty nigger, hey?"
it was pedro with his monkey riding on his shoulder. the beast leered at me and clicked its teeth.
"no," i replied, "of that i am sure. we are not going after any such cargo as that."
"i wonder," he responded. "i t'ink, hey, queer way to get nigger—no barracoon—go in a boat. but dah plenty nigger food below. plenty lumber. plenty chain'. what you get if not nigger?"
i said nothing.
"maybe so—maybe not," pedro muttered. his earrings tinkled as he shook his head and moved away.
i was surprised to observe that for the moment all work had stopped.
seeing that o'hara was pointing into the swamp, i stepped over beside him to ascertain what had caught his attention, but found the darkness impenetrable.
"i'm telling ye, some one's there," o'hara muttered with an oath.
i saw that gleazen and matterson were on the other side of him.
now the men were whispering.
"sh!"
"see there—there—there it goes!"
"what—oh! there it is!"
i myself saw that something vague and shadowy was moving indistinctly toward us down one of the long lanes of water.
suddenly out of the swamp came a piercing wail. it was so utterly unhuman that to every one of us it brought, i believe, a nameless terror. certainly i can answer for[pg 192] myself. it was as if some creature from another world had suddenly found a voice and were crying out to us. then the wail was repeated, and then, as if revealed by some preparation of phosphorus, i indistinctly saw, in the dark of the swamp, an uncouth face, black as midnight, on which were painted white rings and patches.
for the third time the cry came out to us; then a voice shrieked in a queer, wailing minor:—
"white man, i come 'peak. long time past white man go up water. him t'ief from king spirit. him go dead land.
"white man, i come 'peak. we no sell slave. white man go him country so him not go dead land. white man, i go."
the dim, mysterious face drew away little by little and disappeared. a single soft splash came from the great marsh, then a yell so wild and weird that to this very day the memory of it sometimes sets me to shivering, as if i myself were only a heathen savage and not a white man and a christian.
three times we heard the wild yell; then far off in the fastnesses of the swamp, we heard an unholy chanting. it was high and shrill and piercing, and it brought to us across the dark water suggestions of a thousand terrors.
i felt bud o'hara's hand on mine, and it was as cold as death.
