In a secluded cove, formed by a bend in a small river, that empties its waters into the sea a few miles from Havana, whose mouth, bare thirty yards in width, would scarce be discovered by a stranger, or casual observer, so rankly and luxuriously do the mangrove-bushes grow upon its banks, and even in the water, that sailing within a hundred feet of the shore, no break or indentation is visible in the line of vegetation, lay at anchor one of the most beautiful and symmetrical top-sail schooners that ever left the port of Baltimore. The great tautness and beautiful proportion of her masts, the length of her black fore-yards, the care displayed in the furl of her sails, and the tautness and accuracy with which her rigging was set up, would have convinced one at a distance that she was a man-of-war; this impression would have been strengthened, upon a nearer approach, by the fresh coat of jet-black paint upon her splendidly modeled hull, and the appearance of seven pieces of bright brass ordnance; one a long eighteen, on a pivot amidships, the others short carronades, three a side, ranged along her spotless deck, holy-stoned until it was as white as chalk; the ornamental awning stretched fore and aft, the neatness and care with which the running gear was stopped and flemished down, and the bright polish of all the metal work inboard, also indicated the authority and discipline of the pennant. But the absence of that customary appendage to a cruiser, the lack of an ensign, and the total want of uniform, or uniformity, in the large crew who were scattered over her deck, enjoying or amusing themselves, in the shade, with a greater degree of license than is allowed in any regular service; in groups between the guns, and on the fore-castle, some were gambling, some spinning yarns, others sleeping, and nearly all smoking, combined with their motley appearances, for almost every maritime nation had contributed to form her compliment: Spaniards, Portuguese, Germans, Swedes, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, mulattoes and swarthy negroes, were to be distinguished at a glance, and precluded the idea of her being a regularly commissioned craft: whilst the suppressed tones of the men’s voices, the air of subordination that pervaded their deportment, and the apparent sanctity of the quarter-deck, evinced a greater degree of rule and order than is to be found in a pirate. She was neither man-of-war, bucaneer, nor honest merchantman, but the celebrated slaver “La Maraposa;”[3] who, for three years, had been setting at defiance the whole naval force on the African station; and many were the tales, current in the squadron, of her unrivaled speed, and the courage and address of her notorious captain.