112 THE AFRICAN TRADER,

making her escape. ‘I pray God for the poor
slaves,’ he answered, ‘and hope English cruiser
still catch her,’

As may be supposed a very bright look out
was kept for the cruiser. As the day advanced
she was no where to be seen, and the captain,
anxious to make as quick a run as possible across
the Atlantic, the vessel’s head was turned to the
westward, the wind still blowing off shore. Still,
however, a haze hung over the ocean, sufficiently
thick to prevent objects being seen in the far dis-
tance. This seemed still further to favour the
escape of the slaver.

We had got some distance off the land when
the haze lifted, and away to the southward a sail
was seen, which the Spaniards at once seemed to
know was the British man-of-war. She saw us at
the same moment, and crowded all sail in chase.
The schooner was put before the wind, which now
came from the southward, and every stitch of “can-
vas she could carry was set, men also going aloft
with buckets of water to wet the sails.

Again the same scene of impotent rage I had
before witnessed was enacted, and the fury of the

Spaniards increased as they saw the man-of-war