But Nothing Happened; And We Went Quietly On Board.
The Captain Was Probably Armed, And If Either Of Them Had
Lifted a
hand against him, they would have had nothing before them but flight,
and starvation in the woods of
California, or capture by the soldiers
and Indian blood-hounds, whom the offer of twenty dollars would
have set upon them.
After the day's work was done, we went down into the forecastle,
and ate our plain supper; but not a word was spoken. It was
Saturday night; but there was no song - no "sweethearts and wives."
A gloom was over everything. The two men lay in their berths,
groaning with pain, and we all turned in, but for myself, not to
sleep. A sound coming now and then from the berths of the two
men showed that they were awake, as awake they must have been,
for they could hardly lie in one posture a moment; the dim,
swinging lamp of the forecastle shed its light over the dark hole
in which we lived; and many and various reflections and purposes
coursed through my mind. I thought of our situation, living under a
tyranny; of the character of the country we were in; of the length
of the voyage, and of the uncertainty attending our return to
America; and then, if we should return, of the prospect of obtaining
justice and satisfaction for these poor men; and vowed that if God
should ever give me the means, I would do something to redress the
grievances and relieve the sufferings of that poor class of beings,
of whom I then was one.
The next day was Sunday. We worked as usual, washing decks, etc.,
until breakfast-time. After breakfast, we pulled the captain
ashore, and finding some hides there which had been brought down
the night before, he ordered me to stay ashore and watch them,
saying that the boat would come again before night. They left me,
and I spent a quiet day on the hill, eating dinner with the three
men at the little house. Unfortunately, they had no books, and
after talking with them and walking about, I began to grow tired
of doing nothing. The little brig, the home of so much hardship
and suffering, lay in the offing, almost as far as one could see;
and the only other thing which broke the surface of the great bay
was a small, desolate-looking island, steep and conical, of a clayey
soil, and without the sign of vegetable life upon it; yet which had
a peculiar and melancholy interest to me, for on the top of it were
buried the remains of an Englishman, the commander of a small merchant
brig, who died while lying in this port. It was always a solemn and
interesting spot to me. There it stood, desolate, and in the midst
of desolation; and there were the remains of one who died and was
buried alone and friendless. Had it been a common burying-place,
it would have been nothing.
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