Chapter ONE - Weebly

Charleston, then on a barely seaworthy ship bound for
London and in a second filthy cell, and finally on the
sugar plantation in Barbados. Just thinking of the island
made the scars on his back itch with the memory of too
many floggings. He had lived in a hovel with other
prisoners: cutthroats, thieves, deserters. He labored in
the cane fields from dawn to dusk, under a scorching
sun and in air so damp he felt that he was drowning with
every breath. At night, he slept on a vermin-infested pile
of straw and covered himself with a threadbare, motheaten
blanket.
He was allowed two meals each day: water,
hardtack, and a morsel of cheese at midday, and much
the same in the evening, with the occasional bit of rancid
meat thrown in. Their one delicacy was a small piece of
sweet, red fruit they were given every second or third
day to keep scurvy at bay. The fruit was usually half
rotted, but it was so much better than everything else
they ate that it tasted ambrosial.
But even with this treat, Ethan recalled constantly
being hungry. When it became more than he could bear,
he ate roaches, beetles, and moths. Once he caught and