short tropical darkness. As soon as the day was breaking all hands were
alert, and we saw with delight a beautiful rakish-looking brig, crammed
with slaves, close to the island behind which we had taken shelter,
steering for a creek on the mainland a short distance from us. I ought
to mention that the island in question was within four miles of this
creek. We immediately prepared for action, and while serving out to each
man his store of cartridges, I found to my horror that the percussion
tubes and caps for the boat's gun, the muskets and pistols, had been
left on board the ship. What was to be done? no use swearing at anybody.
However, we pulled boldly out from under the shelter of the island,
thinking to intimidate the slaver into heaving to. In this we were
grievously mistaken.

The vessel with her men standing ready at their guns seemed to put on a
defiant air as she sailed majestically past us, and although we managed
with lucifer matches to fire the boat's gun once or twice, she treated
us with sublime contempt and went on her way into the creek, at the rate
of six or seven miles an hour. Though difficult to attack the vessel in
the day time without firearms, I determined if possible not to lose
altogether this splendid brig. I waited therefore till after sunset,
and then pulled silently into the creek with muffled oars. There was our
friend securely lashed to the rocks. We dashed on board with drawn
cutlasses, anticipating an obstinate resistance. We got possession of
the deck in no time, but on looking round for someone to fight with, saw
nothing but a small black boy who, having been roused up from a sort of
dog-kennel in which he had been sleeping, first looked astonished and
then burst out laughing, pointing as he did so to the shore. Yes, the
shore to which the slaver brig was lashed was the spot where seven
hundred slaves (or nearly that number, for we found three or four
half-dead negroes in the hold) and the crew had all gone, and left us