The Hawaiian Gazette

ANEGRO HUNT.
[BY THE EDITOR.]
Porto Rico is a fairy island of lofty mountains, lovely valleys, large sugar and coffee plantations, beautiful gardens and sweet orange-groves. Therein live proud and stately caballeros of untold wealth; haughty, dark eyed senoritas and poor negro slaves. In the northern part of the Island, which is most beautifully laid out and cultivated, there could be found, not many years ago, the plantations of Don Gomez de Mier. Although one of the wealthiest of all those proud Spanish Lords and well nigh able to master from three to four thousand negroes on his haciendas, yet he felt rather angry when the report came in, one morning, that one of the hands had not answered to the call, nor was his anger by any means mitigated when, shortly afterwards, he was told that the wife of the runaway was missing too. The negro was a stout and powerful fellow, worth his $1,200 even at that time, and the woman was strong and healthy too: reason enough to get out of temper for any man even if he should be able--as Don Gomez was--to lay his hand upon a hundred thousand Spanish gold ounces at a fortnight's notice. The bad example besides, if not summarily punished, might have an epidemical effect on the darkies, and for these reasons Don Gomez resolved to give chase.
The neighbours were duly informed of the occurrence and invited to share the sport. About an hour afterwards you might have seen half-a-dozen of them galloping up the alley of palm trees that led to the lordly mansion of Don Gomez. A portly set they were to look at; all mounted on splendid thoroughbred Andalusian chargers, their saddles richly embroidered with gold and their bridles jeweled.
As there was no earthly need whatever for being in a hurry--the dogs being sure not to loose scent of the track before the setting in of the night dew--the guests sat down to breakfast and made good cheer at the justly renowned table of Don Gomez, whose hospitality was of the old Castilian style. After breakfast, however, the horses were called for, the dogs were brought out, and the chase was to begin in earnest.
The negro, Juan was his name, had taken good care to leave nothing behind him; a wooden bowl, out of which he used to take his meals, was all that could be made serviceable for the occasion, but the woman had left a few rags behind her, and these the overseer had identified and picked up.
Drink was given to the dogs out of the wooden bowl, and the linen was applied to their noses. There were but two of them, but two are enough to settle any nigger, even of the size of Juan. Splendid animals they were--powerful, strong-built, yellow-haired, double-nosed blood-hounds. No sooner had they got a smell, than off they darted, with a half-savage, half-joyful yell, their long tails high in the air, their delicate and dreadful noses close to the ground.
The caballeros had mounted by this time. In the dark eyes of some of them a flash of keen interest might be noticed, as this introductory part of the chase is considered by some amateurs as being by no means the least attractive.
The dogs had made straight for the negro huts, the poor slaves, male or female, that happened to be in that direction, taking mighty good care to keep out of their way. There the animals stopped and seemed to hesitate for a while; then they were seen tracing a circle around the huts, coming back again and gradually approaching a fence, alongside of which they trotted for some hundred yards, their tails fanning the air all the time, their delicate and dreadful noses almost rubbing the ground. Suspense was at its height then, and many an anxious look followed the savage beasts, when, all at once, they gave a sharp yell and broke through the fence without further hesitation.
"To the chase, caballeros!" cried Don Gomez, waving his large sombrero. They put spurs to their horses and cleared the fence. The hunt was up!
The dogs were taking a straight line in a southerly direction; they did not run very fast, so that our caballeros could follow them at an easy canter. The security with which however, was appalling to behold; always sure, always eager, always certain to pick up the track at the opposite side of an impediment round which they had to turn now and then, never stopping, never hesitating, and never for a single moment lifting up those terrible noses more than half an inch above the level of the ground.
The sun was at its highest now, and its scorching rays of liquid fire would have abated the enthusiastic zeal of many a white man of the Anglo-Saxon or any other race. It was not so with our jaded Dons, however, who seemed to gather fresh strength from every new feature of the chase. So on they went, up hill and down dale, through woods and groves, past sugar-cane and cotton fields, never slackening their speed, and with an excitement that evinced no signs whatever of a decrease.
The southern part of the Island is very mountainous, and the nearer we draw to the sea-coast the wilder and more picturesque becomes the surrounding landscape. Lofty rocks rise up to a height of several thousand feet, their inaccessible tops visited only by the eagles which can be seen flying round them in majestic circles. The ground is torn by deep chasms and clefts, huge stones are scattered about in every direction. The country abounds in secluded spots, hiding places, formerly for runaway sailors and pirates, now for fugitive slaves--maroon niggers, as they are called here.
Before a broad abyss, of tremendous depth, the dogs suddenly stopped, and lifting up their noses, for the first time, high in the air, they began to bark most furiously. On the other side a steep rock, some 800 feet high, stood boldly out towards the sky, its opposite slope being washed by the ocean-breakers, which could be heard dashing against it with thundering noise.
The cavalcade drew rein, and a consultation took place. To descend into that abyss, and scale the steep rock on the other side, seemed a matter of sheer impossibility to any creature except, perhaps, a monkey or a maroon nigger. That the runaways were near at hand, was beyond doubt; that they might have joined a lot of some other desperadoes was very probable; and that a final stop should be put, sooner or later, to the runaway business, seemed very desirable. It was agreed, therefore, to starve them out. Some of the servants were sent back at once to bring up provisions and camp materials; sentinels were posted all around and as far as the shore; strict vigilance was enjoined, and watch-words were given. When night set in, fires were lighted, and one could hear the sentinels calling out to each other, as in a military camp.
Our caballeros stretched themselves on the ground, rather tired after the day's work, and the golden stars of a Southern sky, with the brilliant constellation of the Cross, high in the heavens, shone alike upon their portly figures and upon the poor naked wretches on the mountain's top.
On the morning following many a spy-glass was directed to the top of that mountain, but, except a thin, white column of smoke that went curling up into the blue air from behind a prominence, nothing could be detected. The dogs came up early to the same spot they had singled out on the previous day, and, with uplifted noses, barked away as furiously as ever.
The first day of camp life passed off like a good many others; in fact, a whole week went by in the same unsatisfactory manner, the blood hounds never failing to be on the spot at daybreak, and that white column of smoke always curling up into the air during a couple of hours after daylight.
Our caballeros were unable to account for this most extraordinary state of things. What on earth could those wretches be living upon, on the top of that naked and barren rock?
At last one of the negro servants of Don Gomez offered his services as a spy, and suggested a plan of his own framing, which was adopted. It wants a negro to betray a negro. On that day, the tenth since the erection of the camp, after another consultation had been held, the bloodhounds were coupled, the camp broken up, and the besiegers mounted their horses and betook themselves to their homes. A few sentinels alone were left to watch the proceeding of the spy. Don Gomez was to inform his friends when the moment for action should arrive.
When the spy appeared again before his master after a week's absence, he had a strange story to tell.
When he had descended the abyss and climbed the rock at the risk of his neck, passing himself for a Maroon nigger, they had received him apparently without suspicion. There were eight of them, the woman included, all sound and well fed. They had any quantity to eat--fowl and small game in abundance, and as to the water, there was a fresh spring near at hand. Each night he saw Juan separating himself from the rest, armed with a large stick, but whenever he tried to follow him he was prevented from doing so by the others, and it was not until the night before last that he had got a chance to watch him. He saw him climbing up the prominence, and with his left hand emptying the stores of an eagle's nest, whilst with his right arm he defended himself against the powerful claws and dangerous beaks of the angry birds.
The mystery was solved at last: the maroons were feasting on the eagles' prey!
The evening of that same day Don Gomez wrote a short note to the captain of one of his vessels, just then in port at San Juan de Dios, requesting the favor of his immediate attendance.
The captain of the Centipede, at that time a little engaged in the nigger trade, was known to be a dead shot. He had crossed and recrossed the American continent more than once with shouldered musket, and his exploits on the hunting grounds--North and South--were said to border on the marvelous. The job Don Gomez had for him this time, was altogether to his liking.
The camp was re-opened on the following day. Sentinels were posted, vigilance again enjoined.
The captain merely shrugged his shoulders when he was shown to the spot; neither the abyss nor the rock appeared in any way worth talking about to a man who had crossed the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains, living by the produce of his rifle all the while. It took him several hours, nevertheless, to climb merely half way up that steep mountain, where beneath the shelter of a cluster, of projecting rocks, he took up a position. Those who watched him from below saw him taking aim, after a while, and fire. As nothing extraordinary could be noticed, however, in consequence of that shot, except perhaps the coolness with which the captain was re-loading his rifle, most of the caballeros got tired of watching and went back to their tents. Those, however, who kept their eyes on the daring man had their reward when, a couple of hours afterwards, the steep rocks around re-echoed once more the report of his gun.
A dark object, of the size of a pigeon, was seen darting high up into the air, with the swiftness of a cannon ball. It suddenly stopped short, remaining suspended immovable for some moments at an enormous height. then it began gradually to lower in a spiral line, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker till at last it disappeared rapidly behind the huge mass of the rock.
It was the second eagle: the first had been shot already from the top of the peak, and having been killed on the spot, had fallen down into the sea.
The Captain had done his work.
His retreat was accomplished with some difficulty, for many a large block, the tenth part of which would have been sufficient to crush him to atoms, was showered down on him by the Maroons above.
He managed, however, to escape them, and when, on the evening of the same day, he stood again before Don Gomez, the man was as sound and safe, and as cool as ever.
For two days longer, that thin, white column of smoke could be seen rising to the sky. On the morning of the third day, however, no more signs of it could be discerned, even with the aid of the most powerful spy-glasses. In the evening of the same day, the dogs were heard, all at once, to bark most furiously, and the sentinel nearest the shore gave the alarm.
When the whole party, which hastened up to hear the news, had arrived, the sad tragedy was drawing to its close. The Maroons were in the sea!
They were struggling with all their power to reach a small, rocky island near the shore.
"D--n the fools," said the Captain, "they must be raving mad!"
A shriek was heard, awful and terrible: another, more horrible yet, pierced the thunder of the breakers; the color of the water became purple. Those poor, unfortunate wretches had taken their choice between the ground sharks and the Spaniards!