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Updated: June 16, 2025
On questioning their black volunteer pilots, the worthy gentlemen seemed very uncertain, not only whether the slaver had sailed, but where she had been and where they then were. One declared that they had come much higher up than where she was last seen, and that she had probably been sheltered from their observation in one of the numerous creeks which run through the banks of the river.
Both looked gloomy, though excited, and their gesticulations, as they talked with each other, led me to believe that they were discussing some serious event that had either happened, or was about to happen, to the Pandora. "Perhaps," thought I, catching hope with the thought, "perhaps there is a sail in sight a man-of-war with a British flag? perhaps the slaver is being chased?"
His own comrades, engrossed in lively talk, seemed to have forgotten Robert for the moment, and he felt that he was master of the situation. Certainly the slaver would be more uncomfortable than he. "I was wondering," he said, "how long you mean to stay in Albany." "It's a pleasant town," said the man, "as I have cause to know since I've been here before. I may remain quite a while.
How the wiseacres who legislate for the world can make a distinction between the two sorts of ruffians is beyond my logic to understand, and why a slaver should not be hanged as soon as caught is equally a puzzle to me. In years past this might have been done, and the slave-trade crushed completely.
Lund's story, but I can affirm that the 'fire ship' is a myth, universally recognized among the sea-going population of our coast, from the Florida Keys to the mouth of the St. Lawrence. Off the coral reefs, the crime-accursed slaver or pirate haunts the scene of her terrible deeds.
Never was there any inquiry into the title of the seller. Any slave offered was bought, though the seller had no right even under legalized slavery to sell. A picturesque story was told in testimony before the English House of Commons. To a certain slaver lying off the Windward coast a girl was brought in a canoe by a well-known black trader, who took his pay and paddled off.
There was a fair wind, which sent the boat smoothly along with little or no motion as they glided past the long sunken shoal off the end of Goat Island, and opened the view of Brenton's Cove, with the wreck of the old slaver lying in the deep shadow under one bank, opposite the ribs of the other stranded bark; while from beyond in the laughing bay, white-winged boats flitted to and fro, and seemed to beckon and make tempting signals to the poor defeated barks who might never sail or enjoy the sea again.
"What do you make her out?" asked Adair. "A brig or brigantine; a two-masted vessel of some sort," answered Murray. "She is standing this way. I do not altogether like her looks. She has a widespread of white canvas, and so, if she is not a man-of-war, she is a slaver, of that I have little doubt." The crew heard what was said. Murray remained some time longer aloft.
In the afternoon the blacks in parties were taken on shore under an armed escort to bathe and exercise themselves; and the next day, the wind shifting, the frigate and captured slaver again made sail for their destination. "The frigate is signalising to us," said Jack one morning to Lieutenant Hemming, who had just come on deck. "She is going in chase of a sail to the southward.
Sails were pierced, but no other harm was done, and the slaver kept gallantly on. But all her efforts were in vain. The Nautilus crept on and on, nearer and nearer, till she was only about a quarter of a mile away, and then the slaver altered her course, and gained a little by her quick handling.
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