But that
slow motion with which negroes execute all orders, caused some
delay, and no sooner had he, begun to heave on the line than the
tide set strong ebb and carried him upon the lower point, where a
strong eddy, made by the receding water from the creek, and the
strong undertow in the river, baffled all his exertions. There she
stuck, and all the warps and tow-lines of a seventy-four, hove by
the combined strength of the plantation, would not have started her.
When the tide left, she careened over toward the river, for there
was no means at hand to shore her up.
One of the drivers went up and reported "Massa captain got 'im ship
ashore," and down came Colonel Whaley, with all the pomp of seven
lord mayors in his countenance. "What sort of a feller are you to
command a ship? I'd whip the worst nigger on the plantation, if he
couldn't do better than that. Rig a raft out and let me come o'
board that vessel!" said he, accompanying his demands with a volley
of vile imprecations that would have disgraced St. Giles'.
"Do you know who you're talking to? You mus'n't take me for a
nigger, sir! I know my duty, if you don't good manners," rejoined
the captain.
"Do you know who owns that ship? you impudent feller, you! Take the
sails off her, immediately-at once! or I'll shoot you, by heavens!"
he bawled out again.
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