would with pleasure take
upon himself the responsibility of making the best use of the wind.

Upon gaining the deck, Captain Delano started at the unexpected figure
of Atufal, monumentally fixed at the threshold, like one of those
sculptured porters of black marble guarding the porches of Egyptian
tombs.

But this time the start was, perhaps, purely physical. Atufal's
presence, singularly attesting docility even in sullenness, was
contrasted with that of the hatchet-polishers, who in patience evinced
their industry; while both spectacles showed, that lax as Don Benito's
general authority might be, still, whenever he chose to exert it, no man
so savage or colossal but must, more or less, bow.

Snatching a trumpet which hung from the bulwarks, with a free step
Captain Delano advanced to the forward edge of the poop, issuing his
orders in his best Spanish. The few sailors and many negroes, all
equally pleased, obediently set about heading the ship towards the
harbor.

While giving some directions about setting a lower stu'n'-sail, suddenly
Captain Delano heard a voice faithfully repeating his orders. Turning,
he saw Babo, now for the time acting, under the pilot, his original
part of captain of the slaves. This assistance proved valuable. Tattered
sails and warped yards were soon brought into some trim. And no brace or
halyard was pulled but to the blithe songs of the inspirited negroes.

Good fellows, thought Captain Delano, a little training would make fine
sailors of them. Why see, the very women pull and sing too. These must
be some of those Ashantee negresses that make such capital soldiers,
I've heard. But who's at the helm. I must have a good hand there.

He went to see.

The San Dominick steered with a cumbrous tiller, with large horizontal
pullies attached. At each pully-end stood a subordinate black, and
between them, at the tiller-head, the responsible post, a Spanish
seaman, whose countenance evinced his due share in the general
hopefulness and confidence at the coming of the breeze.

He proved the same man who had behaved with so shame-faced an air on the
windlass.

"Ah,--it is you, my man," exclaimed Captain Delano--"well, no more
sheep's-eyes now;--look straight forward and keep the ship so. Good
hand, I trust? And want to get into the harbor, don't you?"

The man assented with an inward chuckle, grasping the tiller-head
firmly. Upon this, unperceived by the American, the two blacks eyed the
sa