The wounded man was my friend,
Lawrence. He was severely injured in many places, and one of his arms
had been nearly severed from his body by the stroke of a
cutlass. This, he said, was done in wanton barbarity, while he was
crying for mercy, with his hand on the gunwale of the boat. He was too
much exhausted to answer any of our questions; and uttered nothing
further, except a single inquiry respecting the fate of Nelson, one of
his fellow adventurers. This we could not answer. Indeed, what became
of the rest we never knew. They were probably all murdered in the
water. This was the first time that I had ever seen a light between
decks. The piece of candle had been left by the side of the bunk, in
order to produce an additional effect upon the prisoners. Many had
been suddenly awakened from their slumbers, and had crowded round the
bunk where the sufferer lay. The effect of the partial light upon his
bleeding and naked limbs, and upon the pale and haggard countenances,
and tattered garments of the wild and crowded groups by whom he was
surrounded, was horrid beyond description. We could render the
sufferer but little assistance, being only able to furnish him with a
few articles of apparel, and to bind a handkerchief around his
head. His body was completely covered, and his hair filled with
clotted blood; we had not the means of washing the gore from his
wounds during the night.
Pages:
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421