"Mornin', gentlemen," observed this individual, in response to our salutation; "powerful hot; ain't it?"

"Very," returned Smellie in his most amicable manner, "but"--pointing to the awning spread fore and aft, "I see you know how to make yourselves comfortable. Your ship, I observe, is called the _Pensacola_ of New Orleans. I have come on board to go through the formality of looking at your papers. You have no objection, I presume?"

"Nary objection, stranger. Look at 'em and welcome," was the reply. "I guess I'll have to trouble you to come below, though."

With this he led the way down the companion-ladder, and we followed; eventually bringing-up on the comfortably-cushioned lockers of a fine s.p.a.cious airy cabin very nicely fitted up.

Seating himself opposite us, the skipper struck a hand-bell which stood on the cabin table; in response to which summons a black steward, clad, like his master, in dingy white, made his appearance from the neighbouring pantry. Our host thereupon formed his right hand into the shape of a cup and raised it to his mouth, at the same time exhibiting three fingers of his left hand; and the steward, nodding and grinning his comprehension of the mute order, withdrew, to reappear next moment with a case-bottle of rum, three gla.s.ses, and a water-monkey, or porous earthen jar, full of what proved, on our pouring it out, to be a very doubtful-looking liquid.

"Help yourselves, gentlemen," said our host, pushing the rum-bottle and water-monkey towards us. "I ain't got no wine aboard to offer you, but the liquor is real old Jamaica, and the water is genuine Mississippi; they make a first-grade mixture. But perhaps you prefer to take your liquor 'straight;' I always do."

And he forthwith practically ill.u.s.trated the process of taking liquor "straight" by half-filling his tumbler with neat rum, which he swallowed at a single gulp. He then rose and retired to his state-room in search of his papers; leaving us to sip our five-water grog meanwhile.

The papers were produced, examined, and found to be perfectly correct; after which Smellie set himself to the task of "pumping" our new acquaintance; without much result, though we certainly managed to obtain one bit of valuable information from him.

"Whether there's slavers or no in this rivulet, I'll just leave you to find out, stranger," he remarked, in answer to a question of Smellie's; "I'm here about my own business, and you're here about yourn; you can't interfere with me; and I won't interfere with you. But I don't mind tellin' you that if you'd been here five days ago you'd have had a chance of nabbin' the _Black Venus_, the smartest slaver, I guess, that's ever visited this section of our sublunary sphere."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Smellie eagerly. "What sort of a craft is she?

What is she like?"

"She is a brig,"--I p.r.i.c.ked up my ears at this, and so, too, I could see, did Smellie--"of about three hundred tons register; long, and low in the water; mounts fourteen guns, seven of a side, and a long 32- pounder on her forecastle. Has very tall sticks, with a rake aft; and a tremendous spread of 'caliker.' And she's the fastest craft in all creation. _Your_ ship looks as if she could travel; but I 'low she ain't a carc.u.mstance to the _Black Venus_."

"How is she painted?" asked Smellie. "Is she all black, or does she sometimes sport a white riband?"

"Aha!" thought I; "that looks as though my suspicions are at last shared by somebody else. Richards' communication to the skipper has surely borne fruit."

"Wall," replied the Yankee with a knowing twinkle in his eye, "_when she sailed from here_ she was black right down to her copper. But that ain't much to go by; I guess her skipper knows a trick or two."

"You think, then, he might alter her appearance as soon as he got outside?" insinuated Smellie.

"He might--and he mightn't," was the cautious reply.

"Um!" observed Smellie. Then, as if inspired with a sudden suspicion, he asked:

"Have you seen any men-o'-war in here lately?"

I could see by the knowing look in our Yankee friend's eyes that he read poor Smellie like a book.

"Wall," he replied. "Come to speak of it, there _was_ a brig in here a few days ago that looked like a man-o'-war. She were flyin' French colours--when she flew any at all--and called herself the _Vestale_."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Smellie. "Did any of her people board you?"

"You bet!" was the somewhat ambiguous answer. Not that the reply was at all ambiguous in itself; it was the peculiar emphasis with which the words were spoken, and the peculiar expression of the man's countenance as he uttered them, which const.i.tuted the ambiguity; the _words_ simply implied that the _Pensacola_ had been boarded; the _look_ spoke volumes, but the volumes were written in an unknown tongue, so far as we at least were concerned.

"What is the _Vestale_ like?" was Smellie's next question.

"Just as like the _Black Venus_ as two peas in a pod," was the reply, given with evident quiet amus.e.m.e.nt.

"And how was _she_ painted?" persisted Smellie. "Ah, there now, stranger, you've puzzled me!" was the unexpected answer.

"Why? Did you not say you saw her?" queried Smellie sharply.

"No, I guess not; I didn't say anything of the sort. I was ash.o.r.e when her people boarded me. It was my mate that told me about it."

"Your mate? Can we see him?" exclaimed Smellie eagerly.

"Yes, I reckon," was the reply. "He's ash.o.r.e now; but you've only to pull about five miles up the creek, and I calculate you'll find him somewheres."

"Thanks!" answered Smellie. "I'm afraid we can't spare the time for that. Can you tell me which of the two brigs--the _Vestale_ or the _Black Venus_--sailed first from the river?"

"Wall, stranger, I'd like to help you all I could, I really would; but,"

with his hand wandering thoughtfully over his forehead, "I really _can't_ for the life of me remember just now which of 'em it was."

The fellow was lying; I could see it, and so could Smellie; but we could not, of course, tell him so; and we accordingly thanked him for his information and rose to go, with an uncomfortable feeling that we had received certain information, part of which was probably true whilst part was undoubtedly false, and that we were wholly without the means of distinguishing the one from the other.

We returned to the _Daphne_ with our information, such as it was; and Smellie at once made his report to the skipper. A consultation followed in which the first lieutenant took part, and at the end of half an hour the three officers reappeared on deck, and the captain's gig was piped away.

Being suspicious, as I have already remarked, that something unusual was brewing, I remained on deck during the progress of this conference, so as to be at hand in the event of my services being required; and the _Pensacola_ happening to be the most prominent object in the landscape, she naturally came in for a large share of my attention during the progress of the discussion above referred to. She was flying no colours when we anch.o.r.ed in such close proximity to her, a circ.u.mstance which I attributed to the fact that she was, to all appearance, the only vessel in the river, and I was, therefore, not much surprised when, a short time after our visit to her, I observed her skipper go aft and run up the American ensign to his gaff-end. But I _was_ a little surprised when he followed this up by hoisting a small red swallow-tailed flag to his main-royal-mast-head. I asked myself what could be the meaning of this move on his part, and it did not take me very long to arrive at the conclusion that it was undoubtedly meant as a signal of some sort to somebody or other. He was scarcely likely to do such a thing for the gratification of a mere whim. And if it was a signal, what did it mean's and to whom was it made? There was of course the possibility that it was a prearranged signal to his absent mate; but, taken in conjunction with the fact that it was exhibited almost immediately after our visit to his ship, coupled with the other fact of his obvious attempt to keep us in the dark with respect to certain matters, I was greatly disposed to regard it rather as a warning signal to a vessel or vessels concealed in one or other of the numerous creeks which we knew to exist in our immediate vicinity. Accordingly, on the reappearance of the second lieutenant on deck, I stepped up to him and directed his attention to the suspicious-looking red flag, and mentioned my surmises as to its meaning.

"Thank you, Mr Hawkesley," said he. "I have no doubt it _is_ a signal of some kind; but what it means we have no possible method of ascertaining, and, moreover, it suits our purpose just now to take no notice of it. By the way, are you anything of a shot?"

"Pretty fair," I replied. "I can generally bring down a bird upon the wing if it is not a very long shot."

"Then put your pistols in your belt, provide yourself with a fowling- piece (I will lend you one), and be in readiness to go with us in the gig. We are bound upon a sporting expedition."

I needed no second invitation, but hurried away at once to make the necessary preparations; albeit there was a something in Mr Smellie's manner which led me to think that sport was perhaps after all a mere pretext, and that the actual object of our cruise was something much more serious.

A few minutes sufficed to complete my preparations, and when I again stepped on deck, gun in hand, Captain Vernon and Mr Smellie were standing near the gangway rather ostentatiously engaged--in full view of the American skipper--in examining their gun-locks, snapping off caps, and so on; whilst the steward was in the act of pa.s.sing down over the side--with strict injunctions to those in the boat to be careful in the handling of it--a capacious basket of provisions with a snow-white cloth protruding out over its sides. The precious basket being at length safely deposited in the gig's stern-sheets, I followed it down the side; the second lieutenant came next, and the skipper bringing up the rear, we hoisted our lug-sail, the sea-breeze blowing strongly up the river, and shoved off; our motions being intently scrutinised by the Yankee skipper as long as we could make him out.

We had scarcely gone a quarter of a mile before a n.o.ble crane came sailing across our course with his head tucked in between his shoulders, his long stilt-like legs projecting astern of him, and his slowly- flapping wings almost touching the water at every stroke.

"There's a chance for you, Hawkesley," exclaimed our genial second luff; "let drive at him. All is fish that comes to our net so long as we are within range of the Yankee's telescope; fire at everything you see."

I raised my gun, pulled the trigger, and down dropped the crane into the water with a broken wing.

"Very neatly done," exclaimed the skipper approvingly. "Pick up the bird, Thomson,"--to the c.o.xswain.

The unfortunate bird was duly picked up and hauled into the boat, though not without inflicting a rather severe wound with its long sharp beak on the hand of the man who grasped it; and we continued our course.

On reaching the mouth of the creek we hauled sharp round the projecting point, and shaped a course up and across toward the opposite side of the stream, steering for a low densely-wooded spit which jutted out into the river some eight miles distant. The tide, which was rising, was in our favour, and in an hour from the time of emerging from the creek into the main stream we had reached our destination; the boat shot into a water- way about a cable's length in width, the sail was lowered, the mast unstepped, and the men, taking to their oars, proceeded to paddle the boat gently up the creek.

We proceeded up this creek a distance of about two miles, when, coming suddenly upon a small branch, or tributary, well suited as a place of concealment for the boat, she was headed into it, and--after proceeding along the narrow ca.n.a.l for a distance of perhaps one hundred yards-- hauled alongside the bank and secured.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

MR. SMELLIE MAKES A LITTLE SURVEY.