Wag Benton, the Black-Birder [pp. 49-55]

OVERLAND MONTHLY
onward to Havana, where it culminated in
the arbitrary order of the furious CaptainGeneral.
The British consul ran over to the American consulate to find that the American had
gone to Broa bay. He then rushed out to
Moro castle and leaped from his carriage
just as the firing squad had shot down a
group of four Americans, and were reloading for the other group that consisted of
the Captain, mate, boatswain, and Benton.
The soldiers were priming their pieces when
the undaunted Englishman with the British
Union Jack in his hand, broke through the
guard line and thrusting himself between
the leveled muskets and the victims of a
drum head court-martial, demanded in the
name of Great Britain and humanity that
the executioners withhold their bloody
hands. This appeal, echoed back as they
well knew it would be from the throne of
England, cooled the Spanish blood, and they
surrendered the prisoners to the Consul, who
claimed Wag Benton as a British subject.
The men were put on board of an English
cruiser that was about to sail for home, and
in less than a week it saluted Moro castle
and put to sea.
While Wag Benton was happy to escape
a Spanish bullet, yet he was loth to have an
English court discover that he was an
American, and be sent home for trial where
stealing and importing slaves was a piracy
punishable by death. He therefore set his
head, which was ever fruitful in resources
for self-preservation, to devising means of
escape from his new imprisonment. Although he was allowed the liberty of the
deck, yet the marines and sailors were very
vigilant, so that he could never turn around
without two or more eyes upon him. It
seemed that all hands knew that he was the
reckless leader of the daring exploit, and
might take desperate chances for freedom,
which he certainly contemplated, for he was
more concerned about his fate than were his
companions. They were Englishmen and
had no fear of capital punishment.
The ship was coasting along about three
miles from the Cuban shore between Matanzas and Cardenas, when Wag Benton determined to make a break for liberty if he
found only the freedom of an ocean grave.
Just before the ship's lanterns were lighted
he sneaked into the quartermaster's room
and hid two empty canteens under his
jacket. He whispered to his companions to
look out for something sensational after
dark, and they made their way to the land
side of the vessel, and were watching the
phosphorescent display in her wake, when
Wag Benton sprang upon the rail and dived
headlong into the sea. A half dozen mariners rushed to the gunwale and fired at
him as he rose in the glittering trail of the
ship. He uttered a piercing shriek and
sank from sight. The case was reported
to the captain of the vessel who said,
"Sail on, for he's gone to Davy Jones's
locker."
And thus it came to pass that while the
crew were admiring his courageous dash for
liberty, and his late companions in peril
were regretting his tragic end, Wag Benton
was leisurely paddling toward a light on the
shore about three miles away, safely buoyed
up by the canteens under his jacket.
He landed a short distance from the light
and cautiously approached it, to find that it
was the camp fire of a lone Cuban fisherman, whose boat was well stocked with
provisions. Armed with a stout club, Benton advanced boldly upon the timid fisherman, and in Spanish jargon that was more
forcible than grammatical, ordered him to
fill a ten-gallon keg with fresh water and
put it in the boat, following him closely all
the time with the club drawn over his head.
Standing in the bow of the boat with his
threatening club over the enslaved Cuban,
Wag Benton made him push the boat as far
out from shore as he could wade. Commanding him to stand there until the boat
was out of sight, Benton seized the oars and
was again a free buccaneer afloat at the
mouth of the Gulf of Mexico on a life-saving expedition of his own.
Had he not been in the route of the vessels from Havana to England and in the
latitude where terrible hurricanes sweep
the summer seas, Wag Benton would have
had no fears for his personal safety.
He was an experienced sailor and knew
where was and what he was about. So he
pointed his bow toward the North star,
hoisted his sail, and drifted before a light
breeze toward the Florida keys. He worked
three holes in the bottom of his boat which
he closed with plugs. These he removed
whenever a ship was sighted, and let the
boat fill with water until it was almost submerged. Lying in the water with only his
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