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- 4844
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z
- extracted_by
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- start_line
- 4781
- text
- alternately falling behind, and pulling up, to discharge fresh volleys.
The fire was mostly directed towards the stern, since there, chiefly,
the negroes, at present, were clustering. But to kill or maim the
negroes was not the object. To take them, with the ship, was the
object. To do it, the ship must be boarded; which could not be done by
boats while she was sailing so fast.
A thought now struck the mate. Observing the Spanish boys still aloft,
high as they could get, he called to them to descend to the yards, and
cut adrift the sails. It was done. About this time, owing to causes
hereafter to be shown, two Spaniards, in the dress of sailors, and
conspicuously showing themselves, were killed; not by volleys, but by
deliberate marksman’s shots; while, as it afterwards appeared, by one
of the general discharges, Atufal, the black, and the Spaniard at the
helm likewise were killed. What now, with the loss of the sails, and
loss of leaders, the ship became unmanageable to the negroes.
With creaking masts, she came heavily round to the wind; the prow
slowly swinging into view of the boats, its skeleton gleaming in the
horizontal moonlight, and casting a gigantic ribbed shadow upon the
water. One extended arm of the ghost seemed beckoning the whites to
avenge it.
“Follow your leader!” cried the mate; and, one on each bow, the boats
boarded. Sealing-spears and cutlasses crossed hatchets and hand-spikes.
Huddled upon the long-boat amidships, the negresses raised a wailing
chant, whose chorus was the clash of the steel.
For a time, the attack wavered; the negroes wedging themselves to beat
it back; the half-repelled sailors, as yet unable to gain a footing,
fighting as troopers in the saddle, one leg sideways flung over the
bulwarks, and one without, plying their cutlasses like carters’ whips.
But in vain. They were almost overborne, when, rallying themselves into
a squad as one man, with a huzza, they sprang inboard, where,
entangled, they involuntarily separated again. For a few breaths’
space, there was a vague, muffled, inner sound, as of submerged
sword-fish rushing hither and thither through shoals of black-fish.
Soon, in a reunited band, and joined by the Spanish seamen, the whites
came to the surface, irresistibly driving the negroes toward the stern.
But a barricade of casks and sacks, from side to side, had been thrown
up by the main-mast. Here the negroes faced about, and though scorning
peace or truce, yet fain would have had respite. But, without pause,
overleaping the barrier, the unflagging sailors again closed.
Exhausted, the blacks now fought in despair. Their red tongues lolled,
wolf-like, from their black mouths. But the pale sailors’ teeth were
set; not a word was spoken; and, in five minutes more, the ship was
won.
Nearly a score of the negroes were killed. Exclusive of those by the
balls, many were mangled; their wounds—mostly inflicted by the
long-edged sealing-spears, resembling those shaven ones of the English
at Preston Pans, made by the poled scythes of the Highlanders. On the
other side, none were killed, though several were wounded; some
severely, including the mate. The surviving negroes were temporarily
secured, and the ship, towed back into the harbor at midnight, once
more lay anchored.
Omitting the incidents and arrangements ensuing, suffice it that, after
two days spent in refitting, the ships sailed in company for
Conception, in Chili, and thence for Lima, in Peru; where, before the
vice-regal courts, the whole affair, from the beginning, underwent
investigation.
- title
- Chunk 30