Hunting the Skipper

Chapter 96

Poor Ma.s.sa Allen good ma.s.sa, but won't do what Caesar say. He berry ill now, and get frighten of Ma.s.sa Huggins. Tell Caesar one day he wish Ma.s.sa Huggins die."

"He told you that!" said Murray, for the black had ceased speaking, and his narrative had so great a fascination for the lad that he wanted to hear more.

"Yes, ma.s.sa; um say he wish Ma.s.sa Huggin die so that poor n.i.g.g.ah boy be happy again and do um work. Ma.s.sa Allen say so free time to Caesar, and den Caesar wait till Ma.s.sa Huggins go out and Caesar go in to Ma.s.sa Allen in de cottage, where um sit down by de table like dat." And the black rested his head sidewise upon his elbow and hand. "'What you want, Caesar, lad?' he say, and um put um white hand on Caesar black arm. 'Poor n.i.g.g.ah ill and can't work? Bad time, Caesar, to be sick man.' 'Yes, ma.s.sa,' I say to um. 'Berry bad to be sick man.' 'Who is it, my lad?' he say. 'Caesar, ma.s.sa,' I say to um. 'Caesar berry sick.' 'You bad, Caesar!' him say. 'Your ma.s.sa berry sorry, for you de only frien' I got in de worl' now, Caesar.' 'Yes, ma.s.sa,' I say.

'Caesar know dat.' 'What de matter, boy?' he say. 'Caesar bad to see ma.s.sa so berry sick. Caesar 'fraid ma.s.sa die.' 'Ah, dat's berry good of you, Caesar,' he say--'berry good. Then you no want me to give you doctor 'tuff?' 'No, ma.s.sa,' I said. 'n.i.g.g.e.r know what to do when n.i.g.g.ah ill. Shut um mouf up tight free day, and n.i.g.g.ah quite well again.' 'Ah, Caesar,' he say, 'dat do me no good, dat not do for your ma.s.sa.' Then I say to um, 'No, ma.s.sa, but you let Caesar do ma.s.sa good and um quite well again and make all de poor n.i.g.g.ah happy over again.'

'No, no, my boy,' um say; 'nebber again.' 'Yes, ma.s.sa,' I say; 'you let Caesar try.' 'What wiv?' um say, laughing; and den I say in um whisper like: 'Fetish, ma.s.sa.'"

"What!" cried Murray, half indignantly. "You don't believe in that nonsense, Caesar?"

"Not nonsense, ma.s.sa."

"Well, my good fellow," said Murray, rather coldly, "I'm not going to argue with you now, but some other time, I hope. Now tell me, what did Mr Allen say?"

"Um say, 'No, my lad, no; I'll hab none of dat.'"

"Of course; but surely he does not believe in it?"

"Yes, ma.s.sa; um believe for sure. Ma.s.sa Allen know what n.i.g.g.ah know and bring from own country. But Ma.s.sa Allen say, 'Nebber, nebber, Caesar.

Your ma.s.sa done too much bad in dis worl', and he nebber do no more now.'"

"Well, that's very good of him, Caesar, but I don't quite understand what you mean."

"No, ma.s.sa? Dat Huggins bad man do bad things to everybody. Make Ma.s.sa Allen ill and go die. Ma.s.sa Allen say not fit to live."

"And quite right too, Caesar."

"Yes, sah. Ma.s.sa Allen quite right, and Caesar come one night and bring n.i.g.g.ah Obeah and put in bad Ma.s.sa Huggin rum. Den Ma.s.sa Huggin drink.u.m, drink.u.m, and go drefful bad and

Nebber. Poor n.i.g.g.ah dance and sing, and Ma.s.sa Allen get well."

"But--what--here--I say, Caesar!" cried Murray, staring hard at the black--"You don't mean to say that you mean you would poison the wretch!"

"Yes, ma.s.sa," said the black, in the most innocent way. "Gib um Obeah snake poison. Gib um manchineel in um rum. Make um curl up and go dead."

"Oh, that wouldn't do at all, Caesar," cried Murray earnestly. "He's a horribly bad wretch, of course."

"Yes, ma.s.sa; ollible bad wretch, and ought to be killed dead; but Ma.s.sa Allen say no, he won't do any more wicked thing."

"And he is quite right, Caesar."

"No, sah," said the black, shaking his head. "Not do no wicked thing.

Caesar do it, and it not wicked thing. All good."

"No, no; it would be murder, Caesar," cried the middy.

"What murder, ma.s.sa?"

"Eh? What is murder? Why, to kill innocent people."

"What innocent people, ma.s.sa?"

"What are innocent people, my man? Why, those who have done no harm."

"Ma.s.sa Huggin not no innocent people, Murray Frank. Ma.s.sa Huggin bad man; kill poor n.i.g.g.ah. Try kill poor Ma.s.sa Allen, take um plantation."

"Yes, that's all very bad," said Murray thoughtfully.

"Yes, sah; berry bad. What British captain do Ma.s.sa Huggin?"

"Well, I hardly know, Caesar," said Murray thoughtfully. "I should say that if he catches him fighting against the king and setting those blackguards of his to murder the poor creatures he has been dealing in-- throwing them overboard so as to escape--the captain will have him hung at the yard-arm."

"Yes, sah," cried the man, with his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. "Dat what Ma.s.sa Allen tell um. Ma.s.sa Allen say he desarve be hung at um yard-arm for kill an' murder poor black n.i.g.g.ah, and Ma.s.sa Huggin laugh and say Ma.s.sa Allen hang too. Dat right, sah?"

"No, no; that wouldn't be right, Caesar."

"Bri'sh captain not kill Ma.s.sa Allen?"

"Certainly not, my man," said Murray earnestly. "No, sah. Much a bes'

way for Caesar gib Ma.s.sa Huggin Obeah."

"No, no, and that would not do either. Hallo! what do you mean by that?"

The black had suddenly thrown himself down upon his face and dragged the mids.h.i.+pman beside him, a movement instantly imitated by the big slave who was seated among the bushes beside Roberts, who lay motionless as if asleep.

"Ma.s.sa see?" whispered Caesar.

"See what?" asked Murray excitedly.

The black slowly and cautiously extended his right hand while he placed the fingers of his left to his lips.

Murray gazed with wonder in the direction indicated, but for some minutes he could make out nothing more than the closely-packed canes that commenced before the patch of jungle in which they were concealed.

Everything seemed to be dim, and in the distance it was as though the thick growth was formed into a soft twilight, but as the lad strained his eyesight, he fancied that in one part the canes were swaying slightly here and there, as if the wind was pressing them on one side.

Then as he turned his head a little he started and his heart began to beat with excitement, for what had been for a time indistinct now grew plainer and plainer and shaped itself into what looked to be quite a strong body of men, evidently rough sailors, creeping slowly through a plantation of sugar-cane and making for some definite place. One minute they would be quite indistinct and faint; the next they would stand out quite clearly; and it soon became plain that they were well-armed, for from time to time there was a faint gleam that Murray made out to be shed from the barrel of some musket.

"Ma.s.sa Murray Frank see um?" whispered the black.

"Yes, quite plainly," replied the lad.

"Dat Ma.s.sa Huggin man go creep round plantation."

"What plantation is that?" asked Murray excitedly.

"Ma.s.sa Allen plantation, sah. Ma.s.sa Allen plantation cottage over dah, sah."

"And is he back there now?"

"No say dat where Caesar tink de lieutenant ma.s.sa wait long o' Bri'sh sailor. Fink um wait till Ma.s.sa Huggin bring all a men from two, free schooner. Wait kill all a Bri'sh sailor, sah."

"And if he doesn't look out, my man, he'll be killed instead."



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