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re. The night was very dark, and there were indications of a storm. It required all the skill of the bold leader of the expedition to steer the boat in the thick gloom of the night. The navigation was difficult and dangerous. The bayou was filled with snags and stumps, and to strike one of them was to dash the boat in pieces, and wreck all the hopes which hung upon the success of the enterprise. But Dandy was thoroughly acquainted with all the difficulties in his course, and was so familiar with the waters of the bayou, that he was as much at home upon them by night as by day. "Hoist the foresail, Cyd," said the skipper. "Mossifus! Dis chile tinks de boat's gwine fas enough," answered Cyd, "but I'se gwine to do jus what you say, Massa Dandy." "Do it then." Cyd did do it then; but it was evident to the commander of the Isabel that the "crew" of his vessel was in a lamentable state of insubordination. All his orders were questioned, and the boat was liable to go to the bottom in an emergency, because his commands were not promptly obeyed. He was not a little astonished at Cyd's conduct, for in the boat of Master Archy he was in the habit of obeying all orders like a machine, never presuming to ask a question, or suggest a doubt. The foresail was set, and the Isabel dashed on with increased speed. There was no more "working ship" to be done, and Cyd again took his place on the cushioned seats in the standing-room, a luxury, by the way, in which he had never before attempted to indulge himself; but when it is considered that he had just emerged from slavery to freedom, his want of respect for the dignity of the "quarter deck" will be fully excused. "Go forward, Cyd, and keep a sharp lookout ahead," said Dandy, as soon as the "crew" was comfortably seated on the cushion. "Gossifus! I suppose I'se a nigger still," said he. "Dis chile tinks he's jes as good's any body now." "You are, Cyd." "Den I mus squat on de hard deck, and you sets on de cushions." "Take one of the cushions with you, if you wish to; but go forward and keep a sharp lookout." "I'se gwine." "Go, then." "Dis nigger don't zackly like dis kind ob freedom," growled Cyd, as he moved forward. The wind was about south-west, which was fair for the course the Isabel was then steering, and in three quarters of an hour she made Green Point. Dandy could not but recall the events which had occurred there three weeks before, for they had
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