I am not going to dwell too long on that cruise under Benson and describe its horrible details; there are enough hard things in the future, without going back into the past. Any one who has a morbid taste for listening to tales of deviltry will have to get someone else to go into the minor incidents of that strange voyage.
As to that convict Benson, I will say that the excesses and mutinies that he overcame and put down with an iron hand showed the power of the man’s character. Had he been a man of principle, a better one never lived to command a ship. Authority was in every tone of his voice and every motion of his hand; but he was a villain and his ship was a floating hell.
When we headed away to the s’uth’ard he had a ship and crew capable of keeping the{200} seas for a couple of months at the least, and the men were ready for any known or unknown crime. Ten of our men had joined.
Benson was not very communicative, but I gathered from his remarks that he had been pretty nearly everything that was bad and very little of anything that was good. He certainly appeared well informed on all subjects. I learned from the men that he was but little over thirty years old and that he had a life sentence against him. Afterward I found out that it was for a desperate attempt upon a Dublin bank, where two officers were killed on surprising the gang of burglars at work.
There were all kinds of wild stories told about him among the men, and, although they were perhaps greatly exaggerated, he certainly appeared equal to any occasion where coolness and nerve were to be depended on.
He gave me orders to head the ship for the coast of Patagonia and drive her to the southward with all possible speed.
The plan that he and his closest followers{201} had worked out was to make a landing on this wild coast and then divide into bands. After doing this they would separate and each band would work out its own salvation.
They had, apparently, nothing to fear from the Countess of Warwick. She had been set on fire, with the survivors of her crew on board, bound securely hand and foot. Then the convicts had taken to the boats with the fixed intention of capturing the Arrow and sailing away as peaceable Yankee merchantmen. So far their plans had worked out well.
Six Swedes, two dagos, the cook, and steward, from the crew of the Arrow, joined the gang. The rest of our men were forced to go overboard, three alive and the others killed in the fracas when the mutineers came over the side. Gus, a big Swede, who had been in my watch, spoke to me the first night afterward while I stood at the edge of the poop. He was coiling down the foretopsail brace, and the crowd of convicts who had tailed on left him alone to do the work.{202}
“I had to join, Mr. Gore,” said he in a whisper, “but if there’s a way out let me know, den. I go wid you. A man only lives once. I radder be a live pirate dan a dead admiral, but if dere’s a chance, I go wid you an’ take de chance.”
“Is there any other man who will stand by us?” I asked.
“Aye tank dere’s de cook. He fight if dere’s a show.”
“He’s enough. Let him speak with me the first chance he gets,” I said.
Benson saw we were close together and probably talking, so he came up.
“I say, Gore,” said he, “this is a fine night for a run. How much do we do an hour?”
“About seven and a half knots,” I answered.
“Will this wind hold for a long time, long enough for us to make a good many miles toward Patagonia?”
I said I thought it was the trade and would hold for a couple of weeks, when{203} we might expect to run out of it in the latitude of the River Plate.
“Well, Gore,” said he, “you seem to be a capable sort of fellow, and I like you. It isn’t every man I like, now I tell you. If you do the square thing and get us to the southward of the river, not too far, but far enough so we can make a good get-away from the ship, I’ll not forget you.”
“I appreciate my position thoroughly,” I answered, “and also your commendation, but what’s to become of me when we get down to where you want to leave the ship? Do I get a fair ............