Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African SlaverCanot, Theodore
History
Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African Slaver
Canot, Theodore
Slave trade
I said nothing of my discovery, nor did I make any remarks on the
astonishing love that existed between these Siamese twins; still, I
kept my eye on Ormond's _barracoon_ until I found his stock had
gradually augmented to three hundred. Thereupon, I dropped in one
morning unceremoniously, and, in a gentle voice, told him of his
treacherous design. My ancient patron was so degraded by debauchery,
that he not only avoided a passionate outburst when I made the charge,
but actually seemed to regard it as a sort of capital joke, or
recompense for the damage I had inflicted on the Dane! We did not
dream of arguing the propriety or impropriety of his conduct; nor did
I think of upbraiding him with baseness, as I would have done any one
who had dipped only his finger-tips in fraud. Still, ever and anon, I
saw a glimmer of former spirit in the wretch, and thought I would
attempt a counter-mine of interest, which Ormond might probably
understand and grasp. I resolved, in fact, to _outbid_ the Dane, for I
thought I possessed a card that could take him. Accordingly, I offered
to surrender a bond for one hundred slaves he owed me on account of
the Esperanza; I promised, moreover, one hundred and fifty negroes, to
be delivered that evening,--and I tendered _Brulot's promissory note
for the missing two hundred darkies_,--if he would pledge himself _to
load the Dane during the succeeding night_!
Ormond took the hint like tinder, and grasped my hand on the bargain.
The Dane was ordered to prepare his vessel to receive cargo without
delay, and was specially desired _to drop down about fifteen miles
towards the bar, so as to be off the moment his slaves were under
hatches_!
For the next six hours there was not a busier bee on the Rio Pongo
than Don Teodore. My schooner was put in ship-shape for cargo. The
mate was ordered to have his small arms and cutlasses in perfect
condition. Our pivot gun was double-loaded with chain-shot. My factory
was set in order, and written directions given the clerk in
anticipation of a four months' absence. Ali-Ninpha was put in charge
of the territorial domain, while my Spaniard was intrusted with the
merchandise.
It was encouraging to see, in the course of the afternoon, that my
northern rival had swallowed the bait, for he borrowed a kedge to aid
him, as he said, in descending the river against the tide, in order to
"_get a better berth_." He found the trees and air uncomfortable
sixteen miles from the bar, and wanted to approach it to be "nearer
the sea-breeze!" The adroitness of his excuse made me laugh in my
sleeve, as the clumsy trickster shot past me with his sails unbent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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