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It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slavers. In fact, for five weeks now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean. We had sighted them once, two ships close to the horizon, but near enough for the best top man to be able to make out their sail rig, we knew it was them. Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South America, they were trying to run the blockade of the Royal Navy, that had been set up after most European countries had outlawed slavery. But then, the hurricane had struck. It was one of the worst in living memory, and it had come upon us with so little warning, no time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious trouble, especially anything small. The only safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours. We were close to land but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This, in itself, had not been easy, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island.
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It seemed to be forever that we had been searching for the slavers. In fact, for five weeks now, we had been cruising the southern islands of the Caribbean. We had sighted them once, two ships close to the horizon, but near enough for the best top man to be able to make out their sail rig, we knew it was them. Their course had suggested that they were making for Guiana in South America, they were trying to run the blockade of the Royal Navy, that had been set up after most European countries had outlawed slavery.

But then, the hurricane had struck. It was one of the worst in living memory, and it had come upon us with so little warning, no time at all to make for a safe haven, especially if you were too far from land. Any ships caught at sea were in serious trouble, especially anything small. The only safe place was one of the well-sheltered harbours.

We were close to land but with no suitable harbour close by, we had no choice but to run before the wind. This, in itself, had not been easy, we had only just managed to clear the tip of one island. In constant danger of the wind driving us ashore, where we would have foundered on the vicious rocks we could see all too clearly, just a hundred yards off our beam. The slavers had faced exactly the same predicament, but their course had allowed them to pass to the east of the islands, whereas, we had been forced to the west. For three days we rode the storm, sails ripped away, spars broken like match-sticks, mountainous seas battering the ship.

Most of the crew had never before been so frightened, even some of the older hands, who had experienced the Bay of Biscay at its worst, had looked apprehensive. Even two guns had broken adrift below, smashing everything in their path, before the Chief Gunner and his gun crews somehow managed to secure them safely once more. The sail master and his team were now working like trojans, stitching and patching whatever was available, in an attempt to give us sufficient sail so we could gain headway, to once more set a course.

The First Mate reported to the Captain, that although the ship had sprung at least two planks below the waterline, for the moment the pumps were coping well enough at keeping the water in the bilges at a safe level. Quite a number were carrying injuries, such as a broken arm or a badly turned ankle, the doctor had been kept busy.

We needed to make a landfall where the ship could be careened, to allow repairs to be carried out, re-caulking the sprung planking. The slavers had disappeared, they could be anywhere by now if they had survived the storm that is. Perish the thought, of the plight of those poor souls, chained below decks, life would have been sheer hell for them, and no chance of survival should their ship have suffered any mishap.

The slavers would not have released them from their prison, they would have drowned, chained where they were. The Captain had decided that we set a course that would take us between Granada and St. Vincent, allowing us a vague chance of sighting our prey. Failing any sighting, we would continue north to St. Lucia, a suitable place to carry out the necessary repairs we needed.

It was the bosun who suggested to the Captain that perhaps he make a small detour to the east, he seemed to remember an island named Mustique, where he thought there was a large bay with waters deep enough to allow a ship to approach the beach, this was to the south west of the island, he recalled the name of Les Jolies Eaux or similar. It was a place pirates had often used in the past, it might be possible the slavers were there. The French were more inclined to turn a blind eye, as long as there was no trouble.

If we could catch them in the bay, and as long as the winds were in our favour, they could be trapped. The First Lieutenant led a party of five sailors, six marines, plus one Midshipman. They were to land at the head of the small bay, from there trek to the top of the headland, where, if the slavers were there, they would see them below.

He would raise a green flag if they were, red if there was nothing. The long boat was sent the recall signal. The Marines under the command of the Middie remained ashore, as the boat pulled hard, back to the ship. The slavers were there, one at anchor, the other careened on the beach, an easy target it would seem. A cloud of smoke, momentarily hid the slaver from view, as the explosion died away the sound of musket fire, from the marines could be clearly heard. It was all over, within minutes the slavers had hauled their colours, we tacked about, then sailed in, the heavy bow chaser aimed at the slaver, just in case of any trickery.

The First Officer was to lead another party ashore to take the beached slaver, supported by the marines and sailors already ashore. It was only a short pull to get us alongside the slaver, one boat either side and then we boarded, ready for a fight. The crew, however, had already discarded their weapons and offered no resistance, they were leader-less, all of their officers being ashore.

The stench that came from below was dreadful as the covers came away, we could hear the wailing that came from within. She was like a wild animal spitting at me, as she searched for something else to throw.

I saw that a chain was attached to the shackle fastened around her ankle, she could only move in a small arc, perhaps three feet or so.

I stared at her with shock, I could see that she was terrified, but also very brave and dangerous. She did not look like the typical African.

She was very tall, her hair was long and it crested in a wave above her forehead, her breasts were high and stood out firmly in front of her.

I even noticed the brilliant white of her perfectly formed teeth. The only blemish, if you can call it that, were the patterns scarred across her face and above her breasts, they were, I thought, actually quite attractive. My thoughts came back to reality, as a heavy plate narrowly missed me. There was now though nothing else within her reach that she could throw. Her eyes cast desperately about, I could see she was on the verge of tears, she shrank back from me, as I took a step forward.

I placed my pistol and sword on the table, well out of her reach. I held out my hands, palms up, and empty. She was now backed against the cot she was chained to, she fell backwards, then scuttled to the bulkhead and cringed from me in the corner.

I saw a pitcher of water on the table, so I poured a cup, and held it out to her. She looked at me, eyes wide and scared. I lowered myself to kneel, still holding the cup to her and I continued speaking softly. Her hand lifted slightly but no more, so I leaned and set the cup on the cot in front of her, then I rose and stepped back. Now she snatched up the cup and drank with huge gulps. When he arrived, I instructed him to place a guard on the cabin, on pain of death, if he let anyone enter.

As he climbed on board, his face told me that this was a hard and dangerous man. The look in his eyes would have frightened a lesser man than myself. I pushed the Captain ahead of me, into his cabin, the girl shrieked and cowered down, but I shoved him roughly into the chair at his table.

Later I would learn from our doctor, that the Wodaabe were a nomadic tribe living along the southern edges of the Sahara, they were not Negro, some thought they originated centuries ago from Egypt. Their language is entirely unique to them, nothing similar is spoken anywhere in the then known Africa.

I retrieved the key, I turned and showed it to her. I called the sentry and indicated for him to take my pistol and sword outside. Then, I approached the cot, with the key held out, I still thought that she might try and run the moment she was free. It was when I got closer, that I saw the welts on her arms and shoulders, angry marks showed the beating she had been given.

I rose to fetch a bowl and cloth, I dipped the cloth in cold water, then offered it towards her arm. She stared at me as I reached out and laid the cloth on her injuries, I saw her flinch but she remained totally silent, gently I bathed her arm, and then the other. I went to put the cloth to her shoulder, but again she cringed away, I lay the cloth on her hand and pointed, she remained still for an age, then put it to her shoulder.

I was surprised when she passed it back to me. I dipped it in the bowl, then indicated for her to turn. Again she stared, but then, slowly she turned her back to me. She must have been in terrible pain. I tapped her arm, and she turned back to face me. There was a look of wonder on her face. I took the key from my pocket, and held it up, I pointed at her ankle, then tried to indicate a calming motion with my hands. She seemed to understand because she gave me a small nod.

I unlocked her restraint and waited for her to run, but instead, she sat and rubbed at her swollen ankle. I reached for her hand and pointed to the chair at the table. She took my hand, still watching me intently, as I led her to the chair. I found only biscuits, bread and some stale cheese, I piled some on a plate and took them back to her. She took some bread and ate, I watched as she sniffed at the cheese, she seemed satisfied and took a little bite. For the first time, a small smile touched her face, as she commenced to eat all the cheese.

I fetched the cup of water to her, she drank again, thirstily. I found one of the Captains silk shirts and held it to her, but she looked puzzled. I lifted her arm and guided it to the sleeve, then pointed to her other arm, this time she put her arm though herself, I laid the collar gently over her shoulders. She stood and looked into the mirror and studied her reflection, I pointed to my own shirt, showing her how it was tucked into my breeches. Without hesitation, she lifted the shirt and tucked it into the skirt she was wearing. Her breasts though were still showing at the front, I indicated the buttons but she just frowned.

Carefully I reached. She made no attempt to stop me as I fastened two buttons, then she pushed my hand away and fastened the rest herself. Her hand took my arm and stopped me. I turned to look, she gazed at me, then her hand came up, her fingers touched my cheek. Then she spoke, I have no idea what she was saying, but I was reassured. She indicated the doorway, so I led the way back up and into the sunshine.



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