Voyage of the Liberdade | Page 9

wealth was laid by peddling charcoal, carrying it at
first, to his credit be it said, on his back, and he was then a good fellow.
Many a hard bargain has he waged since, and is now a "Don," living in
a $90,000 house. The Don doesn't peddle charcoal any more.
Moored at Rosario, waiting, waiting; but all of us well in body, and
myself finally less agitated in mind. My old friend, Don Manuel, seems
better also; he "may yet purge and live clean like a gentleman."
I found upon our return to Rosario that some of the old hands were
missing; laid low by the scourge, to make room for others, and some
were spared who would have been less lamented. Among all the
ship-brokers that I knew at Rosario, and I knew a great many, not one
was taken away. They all escaped, being, it was thought,
epidemic-proof. There was my broker, Don Christo Christiano--called
by Don Manuel "El Sweaga" (the Swede)--whom nothing could strike
with penetrative force, except a commission.
At last, April 9th, 1887, news came that the Brazilian ports were open.
Cholera had long since disappeared in Santa Fè and Buenos Aires. The
Brazilians had established their own beef-drying factories, and could
now afford to open their ports to competition. This made a great stir
among the ships. Crews were picked up here and there, out of the few
brothels that had not been pulled down during the cholera, and out of
the streets or from the fields. Some, too, came in from the bush. Mixed
among them were many that had been let out of the prisons all over the
country, so that the scourge should not be increased by over-crowded
jails. Of six who shipped with me, four had been so released from
prison, where they had been serving for murder or highway robbery; all
this I learned when it was too late. I shall have occasion before long to

speak of these again!
Well, we unmoored and dropped down the river a few miles the first
day; with this crew, the hardest looking set that ever put foot on a ship
of mine, and with a swarthy Greek pilot that would be taken for a pirate
in any part of the world. The second mate, who shipped also at Rosario,
was not less ill-visaged, and had, in addition to his natural ugly features,
a deep scar across his face, suggestive of a heavy sabre stroke; a mark
which, I thought upon further acquaintance, he had probably merited. I
could not make myself easy upon the first acquaintance of my new and
decidedly ill-featured crew. So, early the first evening I brought the
bark to anchor, and made all snug before dark for prudent reasons. Next
morning, the Greek, instead of getting the bark underweigh, as I
expected him to do, came to me demanding more pay for his services
and thinking, maybe, that I could not do without him, demanded, unless
I chose to pay considerably in excess of his regular dues, to be put on
shore. I took the fellow at his first bounce. He and his grip-sack were
landed on the bank there and then, with but little "palaver" over it. It
was then said, so I learned after, that "old S----" would drop into the
wake of some ship, and save his pilotage; in fact, they didn't know
"what else he could do," as the pilots were then all engaged for other
vessels.
The money was taken care of all right, and so was the Aquidneck! By
daylight of the following morning she was underweigh, and under full
sail at the head of a fleet of piloted vessels, and, being the swiftest
sailer, easily kept the lead, and was one of the vessels that did not
"rompe el banco," as was predicted by all the pilots, while they
hunched their shoulders above their ears, exclaiming, "No practico, no
possebla!" This was my second trip down the Parana, it is true, and I
had been on other rivers as wonderful as this one, and had, moreover,
read Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi," which gives no end of
information on river currents, wind-reefs, sand-reefs, alligator-water,
and all that is useful to know about rivers, so that I was confident of my
ability; all that had been required was the stirring-up that I got from the
impertinent pilot, or buccaneer, whichever is proper to call him--one
thing certain, he was no true sailor!

A strong, fair wind on the river, together with the current, in our favour,
carried us flying down the channel, while we kept the lead, with the
Stars and Stripes waving where they ought always to be seen; namely,
on the ship in the van! So the duffers followed