Voyage of Slaves

“I’ll leave behind grandchildren, like grapes upon the vine, and daughters fair to say in prayer,

This is our father’s wine.

“O Zion! O Jordan! O Israel! O come you angel band, and let me see beyond the stars that other promised land.”

Joshua turned from the meal he was tending and called out, “Sing a song for us, Ben, do you know any good ones?”

The crew began cheering and encouraging Ben, but Eli called for silence.

“Let Benjamin be, perhaps he does not want to sing.”

Ben thanked the old man, then stood up to speak. “I have a dreadful voice, and Ned’s is no better. But I will show you some magic, performed by the Mysterious Benno and the Magnificent Neddo.”

As he spoke, Ben caught an indignant thought from his dog. “Well, thank you very much for asking me did I want to be a magician again. Hmph! It would be good if I were allowed to make a few decisions for this team now and again. Pray tell, what’ll you do if I don’t feel like performing the act?”

Ben sent the black Labrador a ready reply. “Oh that’s easy, I’ll tell them you don’t want any food, that you just want to go to our cabin and sleep, and that your real name is Bundi!”

Ned leaped upright smartly, trying to appear casual. “Oh well, just this once, but in future, would you please consult me first? And one other thing—don’t ever dare to refer to me by that dreadful name again!”

Ben took Ned’s head in both hands, staring into his eyes. “I’m sorry, mate, it was thoughtless of me not to ask you. I apologise. Of course I’d never mention that name to a living soul, ever!”

Ned treated him to a doggy grin. “Well, what are you waiting for, ask them for a blindfold and tell them to have their trinkets and objects ready!”

Eli, his grandson and the entire crew were astonished at Ben and Ned’s act. Joshua immediately professed a desire to become a magician, just like his friend Ben.

Then the food was ready. They had a glorious late meal, sitting there on the deck, laughing and talking and congratulating the boy and his dog who had entertained them so well. The evening wore on, and whilst the men continued talking, Ben, Ned and Joshua curled up on some rope-matted fenders and dozed.

Surrounded by such safety and happiness, Ben was not expecting what happened next. Straight out of his dreams, the ghostly apparition of Captain Vanderdecken appeared, grinning evilly.

It was so sudden that Ben sat straight up, wide awake. Beside him, Joshua slumbered on, but Ned was up, teeth bared, and hackles rising. He shot Ben a thought. “Did you see that, too, mate? What’s it all about?”

The boy glanced around. However, nothing had changed—Eli and his crew were still gossiping idly, whilst two flutes played a quiet duet in the background. He shook his head at the dog.

“I don’t know, but whenever the Dutchman shows up, it usually means trouble, or danger nearby. You check for’ard, Ned, I’ll check aft!”

Ned was halfway to the fo’c’sle deck, when he peered off amidships to port. He hurried back to Ben. “Come and have a look at this, see what you think.”

Before they had reached the midship rail, Ben glanced to the other side. He alerted Ned. “Look, three big rowing boats curving about to come astern of us. I don’t like it, they’re not showing either sail or light. It looks like they’re stalking us.”

Ned answered mentally. “Aye, just like the three I spied on our other side. Better tell Eli straightaway!”

The old man came to the stern, with Abram and Zachary on either side of him. He watched the six boats moving stealthily in their wake before murmuring quietly to Ben, “You were very alert, Benjamin, thank you.”

Remembering his dog’s previous complaints, Ben answered, “Don’t thank me, sir, it was Ned who saw them first.”

Ned put his head against Ben’s leg. “Thanks, mate, it’s nice to get credit where it’s due.” He cut short the thought as Eli continued.

“There’s no doubt that those men are wreckers. Skulking along behind us without showing sails or lights, I see they have muffled their oars, too, eh, Abram?”

The trusty crewman nodded. “They’re dropping back a bit, now that they know we’ve sighted them. Shall I go below and man the stern cannon?”

The patriarch stroked his beard, his keen gaze still riveted on the six boats. “I think not. Stay here with me, Abram. Wholesale slaughter is not the answer. I know those men are ruffians and villains, but they are only peasants with families to feed. I could not bring myself to kill them. So if needs be I will take the snake’s head.”

Ben understood the old man’s meaning. “You mean that you will slay their leader, sir?”