When Jan’s hand was completely healed, the old man allowed him to try to stand up. It was still difficult with his leg, but he was given a hefty stick that had been cut out of a thick branch and could try very carefully to walk a step or two. His leg was still being treated with herbs and leaves and was still bound with strips of cotton between the two branches. All wounds and ulcers on his body had healed, his clothes were freshly washed and clean, and he always had his shawl on.
After six weeks, when he could walk quite well, the old man told him that it was time for him to return. He was given a message that he had to pass on to that wretched Swiss man. Jan understood that this was Colonel Fourgeoud. The bush-negroes would never surrender, never. All they wanted was peace, and to be left alone. If they were no longer persecuted, then they would raid no more plantations, for then they would live peacefully here in their villages and live from what they planted and from what the bush provided. Becoming slaves again – never! Jan wanted to pass on the message, but how?
The next day the old man took him in a korjaal180 along a small creek and set him down at the back of a plantation. He could simply follow the path and walk through the plantation until he came to the house towards the front of the estate. They would be sure to look after him there. The old man trusted that he would not betray them and say anything about the village. Jan would rather cut his tongue out than say anything about the village, Ta Jusu could be sure of that.
How amazed the slaves working in the fields were suddenly to see a soldier walking through the plantation, and how surprised, too, was the planter who awoke from his afternoon nap to find a soldier sitting on his veranda! This soldier told him in a matter-of-fact way that he had got lost in the bush and had become separated from the group. He had wandered around in the bush for about six weeks before ending up at the back of the plantation. Now, these new soldiers were obviously well trained men, for this was no starving, exhausted man standing in front of him, but someone who had endured all hardships and appeared fresh and lively. With such soldiers they would soon get the better of that rabble in the bush and this expensive war could end. The Dutch state had at long last sent some good men. Contented, the planter then sat with his guest and the family at dinner, intending to travel with Jan the following day in his tent boat to Paramaribo.
Captain Stoelman’s commando was no less surprised when suddenly one of the soldiers stood before them who had been given up as dead. Who knows, more of them might return, although it was in fact certain that most of the thirty-two soldiers in that group had been killed or had drowned. Four of them they had buried themselves, since they had not survived their injuries. Jan was now allocated to the same commando as Lieutenant Reindert Andersma, which was under the command of Captain Hamel. This division was preparing for a twelve-week-long expedition. They would be responsible for the completion of a certain part of the cordon path and would have to set up watchtowers between the military post near to the devastated l’Esperance Plantation and the Tampoco Creek in the Boven-Commewijne district. From there they would also have to carry out raids against the Maroons in the region.
Jan wanted to pass on Ta Jusu’s message. But how? And to whom? If he were to say that he had stayed six weeks with the Maroons, it would be demanded of him that he say where they were, and he would never betray them, never. With whom could he speak without putting himself in danger and endangering those good people?
That Lieutenant Andersma? He seemed a decent type. He was always cheerful and Jan had noticed that he spoke less roughly and harshly to the soldiers than did the other officers. He would talk to Lieutenant Andersma. Where would he do that? Not in the soldiers’ quarters. That was too dangerous. Dare he visit him at home? In Fort Zeelandia?
During the days that followed, Jan was constantly in the neighbourhood of the fort and watched the lieutenant’s house. By the afternoon of the third day he had summoned up enough courage and was just about to knock on the door when he saw an elegant lady approaching with a slave two steps behind her. The lady had hardly reached the veranda when Lieutenant Andersma opened the door and came outside. With a laugh he put his arm around the lady and went inside with her. Jan understood very well that this was not the moment to knock and talk about the Maroons. But all right, he would wait until the lady had left. But by the time darkness fell and he knew that the lady was still indoors, he walked back to the soldiers’ quarters.
Two days later he tried again. He now saw that the lieutenant was sitting on the veranda. Jan went straight up to him and asked if he might speak with him.