"Why didn't you say mud-scow? Call such a thing as this a ship? I
don't care who owns her, I only know it's a disgrace to sail her;
but I've got the papers, and you may help yourself. When you pay me
for my time, and give me something for myself and these men to eat,
you may take your old jebac--car-boat,--but you don't put a foot
aboard her till you do!"
This made the colonel rage worse. "I'll teach you a lesson how you
disobey my orders. Go get my rifle, Zeke," said the colonel, turning
to an old negro who stood close by. And then calling to the men on
board, he ordered them to take charge of the vessel and take the
sails off her at once.
"Don't you move a hand to unbend a sail, Cesar! I don't know that
man ashore there. This vessel is mine until further orders from the
persons who shipped me," rejoined the captain with an imperative
demand to his men.
"Why, la! massa, he own em dis ere vessel, an' he shoot em sartin if
we done do him; ye done know dat massa, as I does," said Cesar.
"Don't touch a hand to those sails, I command one and all of you.
There's two can play at shooting, and I'll shoot you if you disobey
my orders." Then turning to those on shore, he warned them that he
would shoot the first nigger that attempted to make a raft to come
on board. The reader will observe that the poor negroes were in a
worse dilemma than the captain; goaded on the one side by a ruthless
master, who claims ownership and demands the execution of his
orders, while on the other extreme the hired master proclaims his
right, and warns them against the peril of varying one iota from his
commands.
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