Hunting the Skipper Part 6

"But very far-reaching, sir," continued the lieutenant, "and I promise you full protection for all that you do. Why, surely, man, you will be able to cultivate your plantation far more peacefully and with greater satisfaction with the river cleared of this abominable traffic."

"Well, if you put it in that way, mister, I should," said the man, "and that's a fine range of rich land where the black chief has his people and their huts. I could do wonders with that bit if I could hold it safely. The rubber I'd plant there would be enough to--"

"Rub out all the black marks that the slave-trade has made."

"Very good, Mr Murray," said the lieutenant, smiling pleasantly, "but this is no time to try and be smart."

"Eh?" said the American. "Was that what he was aiming at? I didn't understand; but I tell yew that there is about a mile of rich syle there which if I had I could make it projuice a fortune."

"Look here, sir," said the lieutenant, "I have no doubt about the possibility of your being helped by the British Government to take possession of such a tract after we have done with it."

"Why, you don't mean, Mister Chief Officer, that you will let your British Lion put his paw upon it and stick to it till you've done with it, as you say?"

"No, no, no," said the lieutenant, smiling. "I mean that the British Lion will put its paw upon the horrible settlement in this way and will root out the traffic, and we shall only be too glad to encourage the rise of a peaceful honest culture such as you are carrying on."

"You mean then that you'll root out the slaves and burn the chief's town?"

"Most certainly," said the lieutenant. "And help me to get hold of that there land?"

"I believe I may promise that."

"And take care that the Portygee slaver c.o.c.k has his comb cut so as he dursen't meddle with me?"

"I feel sure that all this will follow if you help us to capture the slaver, and point out where the abominable traffic is carried on."

"Shake on it," said the American, thrusting out a thin yellow hand with unpleasantly long nails.

"Shake hands upon the compact?" said the lieutenant good-humouredly.

"Very good;" and he gave the yellow hand a good manly grip.

"Then I'm on!" cried the man effusively. "But look here, yew're in this too;" and he stretched out his hand to Murray. "Yew're a witness to all your chief said."

"Oh, all right," said Murray, and he let the long, thin, unpleasantly cold and dank fingers close round his hand, but not without a feeling of disgust which was expressed by the making of a grimace as soon as the American turned to the lieutenant again.

"That's settled, then," said the latter, "so go on at once and lead while we follow."

"What!" said the American, with a look of wonder.

"I say, go on and guide us to the slaver's nest."

"What, just alone like this here?"

"Yes, of course. You see we are well-armed and ready to board and take the schooner at once. Fire will destroy the chief's town."

"Well, you do 'maze me," said the American, showing his teeth.

"What do you mean?" said the lieutenant sternly. "Are you going to draw back?"

"Not me, mister. That's a bargain," said the man, grinning. "I mean that you 'maze me, you Englishers do, by your cheek. I don't doubt you a bit. You mean it, and yew'll dew it. Why, I dessay if yew yewrself wasn't here this here young shaver of an officer would have a try at it hisself. You would, wouldn't you, youngster?"

"Why, of course I would," said Murray proudly; and then, feeling afraid that his a.s.sertion might be looked upon as braggadocio, he hastened to add, "I--I--er--meant to say that I would try, and our brave fellows would take the prisoners."

"Nay, nay, yew would," said the American. "There ain't nothing to be ashamed on in being brave, is there, mister?"

"Of course not," said the lieutenant.

"Of course not," said the American; "but look here, sirree, it's no good to lose brave men by trying to do things that's a bit too strong and starky for you."

"What, do you mean that the schooner's crew would be too strong for us?"

"Nay, not me, mister. Yew'd chaw them up safe. But there's the black king; he's got close upon a hundred fighting men, chaps with spears.

He'd fight too, for though they ain't got much brains, these n.i.g.g.e.rs, he'd know you'd be going to do away with his bread and cheese, as you may say. No, sirree, I ain't a fighting man; rubber's my line, but I want to _get_ hold of that bit of syle--make sewer of it, as you may say; and if I'd got that job to do I should get another boatful of men if you could. Don't know of a British s.h.i.+p handy, do you?"

"Of course. My captain is off the coast not far away. You did not suppose that we came alone?"

"Oh, I didn't know, mister. Could you bring your captain then?"

"Yes."

"And another boat?"

"Of course."

"Then if I was you I should tell him to sail up the river."

"What, is there water enough--deep water?" asked the lieutenant.

"Whatcher talking about?" said the man contemptuously. "Why, didn't you see me sail out?"

The lieutenant shook his head.

"Think o' that!" said the American. "Way in's bit narrer, but as soon as you get threw the trees you're in a big mighty river you can sail up for months if yew like. I have heerd that there's some falls somewhere, but I've never seem 'em. Water enough? My snakes! There's water enough to make a flood, if you want one, as soon as you get by the winding bits."

"The river winds?" said the lieutenant.

"Winds? I should think she does! Why, look yonder, mister," continued the man, pointing. "It's all trees like that for miles. You've got to get through them."

"Deep water?" asked the lieutenant.

"Orful! On'y it's 'bout as muddy as rivers can be made."

"And you a.s.sure me that you could pilot us in and right up to the slaver's stronghold?"

"Pilot yew? Yew don't want no piloting; all yew've got to do is to sail up in and out through the big wilderness of trees. Yew wouldn't want no piloting, but if you undertake to see that I have that chief's land, and clear him and his black crews away, I'll lay _yew_ off his front door where you can blow his palm-tree palace all to smithers without losing a man."

"And what about the slaver?" asked Murray.

"What about her? She'll be lying anch.o.r.ed there, of course."