Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.Collins, Daniel
History
Narrative of the shipwreck of the brig Betsey, of Wiscasset, Maine, and murder of five of her crew, by pirates,: on the coast of Cuba, Dec. 1824.
Collins, Daniel
Caribbean Area -- History; Pirates; Shipwrecks
The shrieks of the dying had ceased--the scene of horrid butchery
in the canoes was now over--Manuel and I were in the water about
knee deep--two of the Pirates after me, and all the rest, with
the fishermen, except one Pirate, after Manuel. We ran in
different directions; I, towards the mouth of the Cove, making
nearly a semicircle in my track, to keep them over my shoulder,
which brought me back again towards the canoes; and as the
remaining Pirate came out in order to cut me off, I was obliged
to run between the canoes, so near the last Pirate, that he made
a pass at me and fell, which gave me the start. At the first of
our race, I was after Manuel, with Pirates before and behind. My
object was to gain the bushes as soon as possible, supposing
their cutlasses would be an obstacle, which I had the good
fortune to prove. I lost sight of Manuel just as I entered the
bushes; he was up to his breast in water, and the Pirates near
him. When I entered the bushes one of the Pirates was within ten
feet of me, and continued striking, hoping to reach me; and all
of them yelling in the most savage manner, during the whole
distance. The most of the way, the water and mud was nearly up to
my hips--the mangroves were very thick, covered, as I before
observed, with oyster shells up to high water mark. It was about
noon when I entered these bushes, my course Westerly, the Pirates
after me, repeatedly in view, one of them frequently within three
rods of me. Had it been on cleared land, I should soon have been
overtaken by them; but the bushes were so large and thick as
frequently to entangle their swords. I was barefoot; and had I
worn shoes, they would soon have been lost in the mud. My feet
and legs were so badly cut with the oyster shells, that the blood
flowed freely; add to this, my head was very painful and
swollen, and my shoulder smarted severely. In this manner and
direction I ran till the sun about an hour high, when I lost
sight of the Pirates and paused for a moment, pulled off my
jacket (the cord being yet on my right arm, which I slipped off)
in which I rolled my hat, and taking it under my arm, I settled
down on my knees, which brought the water up to my chin, in order
to secrete myself. In this way I crept till nearly sunset, when,
to my astonishment, I discovered the ocean, and just as the sun
was setting, I crawled out to the border of the Island. I looked
round and saw a very large bush of mangroves, the highest near,
among the roots of which, I concealed myself. When the sun was
setting, I could distinctly hear the splashing of water and
cracking of bushes, and the Pirates hallooing to each other,
which increased my apprehensions, supposing they might discover
my track through the muddy water. I was almost exhausted from a
severe pain in my side, caused by running so long, though I had
determined not to yield to them until I fell under the blow of
their cutlass. Soon after the sun was down their noise ceased,
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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