Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 11 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

} tinue the conversation, which was not renewed until ‘the next morning. oe - - a er - “The Harpy—there appears little chance of our see- ing her again. We are on a desolate island, or what is the same thing; but we will hope that it will be so; but how is this mutiny to end?” ‘*“Massa Easy, suppose I please, I make it end very soon, but I not in a hurry.”’ “How do you mean, Mesty, not in a hurry?” ‘**Look, Massa Easy: you wish to take a cruise, and I wish the same ting; now because mutiny you want to go back—but by all de powers, you tink that I, a prince in my own country, feel wish to go back and boil ket- tle for the young gentlemen? No, Massa Easy, gib me mutiny—gib me anything—but—once I was prince,”’ re- ste Mesty, lowering his voice at the last few emphatic words. ‘You must one of these days tell me your history,” replied Jack; “‘but just now let us argue the point in question. How could you put an end to this mutiny?’’ * By putting an end to all wine. Suppose I go shore after they all drunk, I spile the casks in three or four places, and in the morning all wine gone—den dey ab get sober, and beg pardon—we take dem on board, put away all arms, ‘cept yours and mine, and I like to see the mutiny after dat. Blood and ’ounds—but I settle ‘um, anyhow.”’ 4 2 he idea is very good, Mesty—why should we not 0 s0?”’ ‘* Because I not like run de risk to go ashore—all for | what? to go back boil de kettle for all gentlemans—I | very happy here, massa,” replied Mesty carelessly. ‘“‘And I am very miserable,” replied Jack; “but however, I am completely in your power, Mesty, and | must, I suppose, submit.’ “What you say, Massa Easy—submit to me? No, | sar; when you are on board Harpy as officer you talk | with me as friend, and not treat me as negro servant. Massa Easy, I feel—I feel what I am,’’ continued Mes- ty, striking his bosom, ‘‘I feel it here—for all first time | since I leave my country, I feel that I am something; but, Massa Easy, I love my friend as much as I hate | my enemy—and you neber submit to me—lI too proud to allow dat, ‘cause, Massa Easy—I am a man—and once I was a prince.” Although Mesty did not perhaps explain by words | half so well as he did by his countenancee, the full tide | of feeling which was overflowing in his heart, Jack fully understood and felt it. He extended his hand to Mesty and said: " aye that pe have been a prince I care little about, a though able of a lie; but you area man, and I respect you, nay, | I love you as a friend—and with my will we never part | ain.” esty took the hand offered by Jack. It was the | first peace-offering ever extended to him since he had | been torn away from his native land—the first compli- | ment, the first tribute, the first acknowledgment, per- | haps, that he was not an inferior being; he pressed it | in silence, forhe could not speak; but could the feel- ings which were suffocating the negro but have been | laid before skeptics, they must have acknowledged that | at that moment they were all, and only such as could | do honor, not only to the prince, but even to the Chris- tian, So much was Mesty affected with what had hap.- | pened, that when he dropped the hand of our hero he_ went down into the cabin, finding it impossible to con- ‘* What is your opinion, Mesty? Tell me, and I will be governed by it.” | *‘Den, sar, I tell you I t’ink it right that they first | come and ask to come on board before you take them | —and, sar, I t’ink it also right as we are but two and | they are five, dat dey first eat all their provisions. Let | ’em starve plenty, and den dey come on board tame | enough.” | * At all events,” replied Jack, “the first overtures of | some kind or another must come from them. I wish I | had something to do—I do not much like this cooping up on board ship.”’ be ‘Massa, why you no talk with Pedro? “ Because I cannot speak Spanish.” ‘‘T know dat, and dat whyI ask de question. You very sorry when you meet the two pretty women in the ship you not able to talk with them, I oy that. “T was very sorry, I grant,’’ replied Jack. ‘Well, Massa Easy, by-and-by we see more Spanish girl. Why not talk all day with Pedro, and den you able to talk with dem.”’ “Upon my word, Mesty, I never had an idea of your value. I will learn all the Spanish that I can,” replied Jack, who was glad to have employment found for ‘ and was quite disgusted with the articles of war. As for the men on shore, they continued the same course, if not as before, one day succeeded another, and without variety. It was, however, to be observed that the fire was now seldomer lighted, which proved their fuel scarce, and the weather was not so warm as it had been, for it was now October. Jack learnt Spanish from Pedro for a month, during which there was no appear- | ance of submission on the part of the mutineers, who, for the first fortnight, when intoxicated, used to come | down and fire at Jack or Mesty when they made their | appearance. Fortunately drunken men are not good marksmen; but latterly this had been discontinued, because they had expended their ammunition, and they | appeared to have almost forgotten that the ship was there. for they took no notice of her whatever. On the other hand, Jack had decided that if he waited there a year the overtures should come from those who had mutinied; and now, having an occupation, he | engine his time ve hat two months h before he had an idea of it. One evening as they were down in the cabin, for the evening had now become very cold, Jack asked ear whether he had any objection to give him a history of his uietly, and the days flew so fast datualky been run off the calendar life. Mesty replied that if he wished he was were he talk, and at a nod from our hero Mesty commence follows, CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH MUTINY, LIKE FIRE, IS QUENCHED FOR WANT OF FUEL, AND "NO WANT OF WATER. AurnoucH we have made the African negro hitherto talk in his own mixed Jargon, yet, as we consider that in a long narration it will be tedious to the reader, we shall now translate the narrative part into good Eng- lish, merely leaving the conversation with which it may be broken ‘in its peculiar dialect. “The first thing I recollect,” said Mesty, “is that I was carried on the shoulders of a man with my legs ing down before, and holding on by his head. “Every one used to look at me and get out of the way, as lrode through ihe town aud marketplace, so was alone, when @ woman covered up to The New York Library. loaded with hea them, and was = when the women took them off; but as I grew older I became proud of them, because I knew that I was the son of a king. I lived an : I did nothing but shoot my arrows, and I had a tle sword which I was taught to handle, and the t captains who were about my father show me how to kill my enemies. Sometimes I laid un- der the shady trees; sometimes I women belonging to m father; sometimes I was with him and a with the skulls, and re- ted the names of those to whom they had belonged, or in our country, when we kill our enemies, we keep their skulls as trophies. ‘‘ As I grew older I did 5 AY ene I beat the women and the slaves; I think I know I did one, tot my two-handed sword, made of hard and heavy wood; but that is nothing in our country. I lon to be a great captain, and I thought of nothing else but war and fighting, and how many skulls I should have in my possession when I had a and I was no longer a boy. I went out in the woods to hunt, and I stayed for weeks. And one dayI sawa panther basking in the sun, waving his graceful tail. I ly up softly till Iwas behind a rock within three yards o sae him through the body. The animal] bounded u n the air, saw me, roared, and made a spring, but was with the | ' | own to the coast, an ed some of the latter—I | knew that { was to die, and — whether I could strike well with | skull would have been more vrized than all the gold in ee ns * pms 2 — — a ———— — +e es gold ornaments that I could not bear | —after a while we met andfought, andI killed many, but my men were too few, and were overpowered—the fetish had been sent out against me, and their hearts melted; at last I sunk down with my wounds, for I bled at every pore, and I told my men who were about me to take off my feathers, and my dress and boots, that my enemies might not have my skull; they did so, and _I crawled into the bush to die. But I was not to die; I was recovering, when I was discovered by those who | steal men to sell them; I was bound, and fastened to a chain with many more. I, a prince and a warrior, who could show the white skulls of his enemies—I offered to rocure gold, but they derided me; they dragged me sold me to the whites. Little ride, that I should be a slave. I to die in battle; my did I think, in my the earth, and my skin would have been stuffed and re, - in a fetish-house—instead of which, I now boil the kettle for the young gentlemen!” “Well,” replied Jack, ‘“‘ that’s better than being “* Mayhap it is,’ replied Mesty, ‘I t’ink very different now dan I t’ink den—but still, it women’s work and not suit me. ‘“* They bg me with others into a cave until the shi then we were sent on board, put in irons, an ouse and wives of my own, | killed and stuffed.” it, and drawing my arrow to the head, I | came, an down in the hold, where you could not sit upright—I wanted to die, but could not; others died every day, but dropped behind the rock, and he passed over me. He | I lived—I was landed in America, all bone, and I fetched turned he fixed his talons into my shoulder and breast I pierced life; I had killed a panther without assistance, and had the wounds to show. Altho I thought nothing of it. I too blood h I was severely hurt, dripping with gore and smarting with pain. one extolled the feat tain. I filed my teeth, and I became a man. “From that day I ranked amo tle. I returned they weighed me out gold. I then hada house and wives, and my father appointed me a Cabo- ceer. I wore the plume of le and ostrich feathers, my dress was covered with fetishes, I pulled on the boots with bells, and with my bow and arrows slung on my double-handed sword, I led the men to battle brought back skulls and slaves. Every one trembled at | English ship—and they to my name, and, if my father threatened to send me out, | ship as soon as I came old-dust covered the floor of his hall of council—Now, boil the kettle for the young gentlemen! ‘““There was one man I liked. He was not a warrior, or I should have hated him, but he was brought up with me in my father’s house, and was a near relative. I was grave and full of pride, he was gay and fond of music; and although there was no music to me equal to the tom-tom, yet I did not always wish for excitement. I often was melancholy, and then I liked to lay my head in the lap of one of my wives, under the shady forest behind my | a midshipman’s servant house, and listen to his soft music. At last he went to a town near us where his father lived, and, as he de- him to the heart. This was the happiest day of = | : | | | ain to me, but I had my knife tera and, as | very little money—they laughed at me, as they bid their dollars; at last a man took me away, and I was on a plantation with hundreds more, but too ill to work, and not intending to work. The other slaves asked me if I was a fetish man; I d off the skin as my yes, and I would fetish any man that I did not like: one ropped down and mixed with that of the beast | man laughed, and I held up my finger; I was too weak —but I rejoiced in it. Proudly did I go into the town | to get up, for my blood h Every | I said to him, ‘ called me a hero and a great cap- | killed him as soon asI was well. He went away, and long boiled with fever, and ou shall die;’ for I meant to have in three days he was dead. I don’t know how, but all the warriors, and, | the slaves feared me, and my master feared me, for he as soon as my wounds were healed, I went out to bat- | had seen the man die, and he, although he was a white In three fights I had gained five skulls, and when | man, believed in fetish , and he wished to sell me . a fetish-man, so he made friends with me; for I told himif I was beat he should die; and he believed me. He took me into his house, and I was his chief man, and I would not let the other slaves steal, and he was content. He took me with him to but no one would bu doubt it not, because you are incap- | back, my spear and blunderbuss, my knives and my | New York, and there after two years, when I had and | learnt English, I ran ewers and got on board of an me to cook. I left the England, and offered myself to another, and they said they did not want a cook; and I went to another, and they asked me if I wasa good cook: everybody seemed to think that a black man must be a cook, and nothing else. At last I starve, and I go on board a man-of-war, and here I am, after aving been a warrior and a prince, cook, steward, and everyt else, boiling kettle for de ht gg yen “Well,” replied Jack, ‘‘at all events that is better than being a slave.” Mesty made no reply: any one who knows the life of a not be surprised at his nce. ‘* Now, tell me, do you think you were right in being rted, I gave him gold-dust. He had been sent to my so revengeful, when you were in your own country? ather to be formed into a warrior, but he had no | inquired Jack. strength of body and he had no soul; still I loved him, I t'ink so den, Massa Easy; sometimes when my because he was not like myself. There was a girl in the | blood boil, I t’ink so now—oder time, I no know what to town who was beautiful; many asked for her as their wife, but her father had long promised her to my friend; he refused even the test warrior of the place, who went away in wrath to the fetishman, and throwing him his gold armlets asked for a fetish against his rival. It was given, and two days before he was to be married my friend died. His mother came to me, and it was enough. I put on my war dress, I seized my weapons, sat for a whole day with my skulls before me working up my revenge, called out my men, and that ht set off for the town where the warrior re- sided, killed two of his relatives and carried off ten of his slaves. When he heard what I had done, he trem- bled and sent gold; but I knew that he had taken the girl home as his wife, and I would not listen to the old man who sought to pacify me. Again I collected a larger force, and attacked him in the night; we fought, for he was perpen. with his men, but after a struggle he was beaten vision ground, and taking away more slaves I returned ne A when a man love very much, he hate very much’ ** But you are now a Christian, Mesty.” “*T hear all that your people say,” replied the negro, ‘‘and it make me t’ink—I no longer believe in fe anyhow.”’ ‘Our religion tells us to love our enemies.”’ “Yes, I heard parson say dat—but den what we do with our friends, Massa Easy?” “* Love them too.” *“*T no understand dat, Massa aati ae love you, be- cause you good, and treat me well—Mr. Vigors, he bully, and treat me ill—how possible to love him? By de power, I hate him, and wish I had him skull. You tin rg er z seca ae him ?’’ “No,” repli ack, laughing, ‘“‘I’m afraid that he would like to. have his skull as well as you, Mesty— but at all events we must try and forgive those who in- ck. I fired his house, wasted his pro- | jure us.” “Then, Massa Easy, I t’ink so, too—too much re- home with my men, intending soon to assault him | venge very bad—it ae a to hate, but not very atifa <a The next day there came more messengers, | to forgive—so I t’ink t Ww o knelt in vain; so they went to my father, and many warriors begged him to interfere. My father sent for me, but I would not listen; the warriors spoke and I turned my back; my father was wroth an threatened, the warriors brandished their two-handed | window; “ Ah! swords—they dared to do it; I looked over my shoulder with contempt, and I returned to my house. I took down my skulls, and I planned. It was evening, and*I the eyes ap- roached; she fell down before me as she exposed her ace, ““*T am the girl who was promised to your relation, and I am now the wife of your enemy. I shall be a mother. I could not love your relation, for he was no warrior. It is not true that my husband asked for a fetish—it was I who bought it, for I would not wed him. Kill me and be satisfied.’ ‘She was very beautiful, and I wondered not that my enemy loved her—and she was with child; it was his child, and she had fetished my friend to death. I raised my sword to strike, and she did not shrink—it saved her life. ‘Thou art fit to be the mother of warriors,’ said I, as I a my sword, ‘and thou shalt be 4 wife; but first child shall be born, and I will have t y husband’s skull.’ “** No, no,’ replied she, ‘I will be the mother of no warriors but my present husband, whom I love; if you st me as your slave I will die.’ ** i told her she said foolish things, and sent her to the women’s ny eh yee with orders to be watched—but she hardly had been locked up before she drew her knife, plunged it into her heart, and died. “When the king, my father, heard this he sent me a me —‘Be satisfied with the blood that has been shed, it is enough;’ but I turned away, for I wished for mine enemy’s skull. That night I attacked him sonny = ers h ean en to hand; I killed him, and .carri ome Ss and was a “But all the great hartiors were wroth, and vote father could not restrain them. They called out th men, and I called out my men, and I had a for my name was terrible. me was twiee that of mine, aad I | t ifa man forgive, he hab more soul in him, he more of a man.” “ After all,” thought Jack, ‘‘ Mesty is about as good a Christian as most a “What that?’ cried Mesty, looking out of the cabin phen d—n drunken dogs, they set fire to n 9 Jack looked, and perceived that the tent on shore was in flames. “TI tink these cold nights cool their courage, any- how,” observed Mesty; “Massa Easy, you see they soon permission to come on board.”’ Jack thought so too, and was most anxious to be off; for, on looking into the lockers in the state-room, he had found a chart of the Mediterranean, which he had studied very attentively—he had found out the rock of Gibraltar, and had traced the Harpy’s course up to Cape de Gatte, and thence to Ta awhile, had summoned Mesty to a cabinet council. “See, Mesty,”’ said Jack, “I n to make it out; here is Gibraltar, and Cape de Gatte, and Ta ona— it was hereabout we were when we took the ship, and, if _ recollect, we had passed Cape de Gatte two days before we were blown off from the land so that we had gone about twelve inches, and had only four more to ‘Yes, Massa Easy, I see all dat,” “ Well, then, we were blown off shore by the wind and must of course have come down this way; an here you see are three little islands, called Zaffarine Islands, and with no names of towns upon them, and therefore uninhabited; and you see they lie just like islands we are anchored among now—we must be at od ee Islands—and only six inches from Gib- raltar. “IT see, Massa Easy, dat all right—but six debbelish long inches.” ** Now, nef you know the compass on deck has a ng for the north point—and here is a compass with a north point also. Now the north point from the Zaffarine Islands leads out the Spanish coast Bit ttef cata saaie 2 | rs ge .~ eager “~ five or — spate of the com- it the force | pass to this side of it—if we steer that wa retreated to the bush . to Gibraltar.” y we shall ges com na—and, after / mp EVOOKS TEcOM