Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

even counting that the coins in his purse weren’t enough to purchase a
slave. Much as he’d have liked to help the lad, Jack couldn’t afford to
get involved.
Portmaster Blount was looking at him questioningly, and Jack
hastily reviewed what the man had just said, and responded. “Very
well, Portmaster. You make good on my supplies, and throw in a few
extra treats—some nice smoked hams, perhaps, or an extra barrel of
yams or fruit—and Mr. Beckett won’t have to know about this. But I’ll be
on the lookout from now on, you may be sure.”
“That’s decent of you, Captain Sparrow,” Blount said. “When will
you be shipping out?”
“We should be finished fitting out the Wench by sunset,” Jack
said. “Then we’ve a cargo to load tomorrow. We’ll be departing early
the following morning.”
“I see. Well, then, let me call my warehouse crew, and we’ll
prepare replacement provisions for you immediately.”
Jack watched the casks and barrels as they were filled with a
sharp eye, and finally confessed himself satisfied with the first
shipment of replacement supplies. Blount promised to have the
remaining provisions waiting at the dock the next morning, early.
Jack made a mental note to inspect every barrel.
It was a long row back to the Wicked Wench, and the sun was low
in the sky by the time Jack and his laden longboats, plus one of the
enormous native cargo canoes, reached the middle of the broad
Calabar River.
The Calabar was full of traffic—canoes ferrying people or cargo,
either upriver toward native villages or toward the slave ships that sat
anchored out in the middle of the big river, waiting for their holds to be
filled with their terror-stricken, agonized cargo. As his men rowed
along, Jack could see the enormous canoes of the slave traders being
rowed by their slave crews. These canoes were so huge they could
carry 120 passengers. Armed guards kept watch over the slaves, lest
any try to break free and leap overboard. Remembering the fear in
young Chamba’s eyes, Jack sighed. A filthy business.…
Jack made a mental note to drop by Mr. Beckett’s office
tomorrow, and inform the EITC director just what his portmaster had