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Henty, G. A. (George Alfred), 1832-1902

"By Sheer Pluck, a Tale of the Ashanti War"

At de time no one could tink
what de matter, but I s'pose dat British cruiser chase us and dat
de slaber sail away.
"Dat was an awful voyage, sar. At first de sea smoove, and de ship
go along straight. Den de ship begin to toss about jus' as nigger
does when he has taken too much palm wine, and we all feel berry bad.
Ebery one groan and cry and tink dat dey must have been poisoned.
For tree days it was a terrible time. De hatches were shut down
and no air could come to us, and dere we was all alone in de dark,
and no one could make out why de great house on de water roll and
tumble so much. We cry and shout till all breaff gone, and den lie
quiet and moan, till jus' when ebery one tink he dead, dey take
off de hatch and come down and undo de padlocks and tell us to go
up on deck. Dat berry easy to say, not at all easy to do. Most of
us too weak to walk, and say dat we dead and cannot move. Den dey
whip all about, and it was astonishing, sar, to see what life dat
whip put into dead nigger. Somehow people feel dat dey could crawl
after all, and when dey get up on deck and see de blessed sun again
and de blue sky dey feel better. But not all. In spite ob de whip
many hab to be carried up on deck, and dere de sailor men lay 'em
down and trow cold water ober dem till dey open dere eyes and come
to life.


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