WE AT LENGTH GET OUT OF THE RIVER INTO THE OPEN SEA, BUT A CALM COMES
ON, AND THE CAPTAIN AGAIN BECOMES VERY ILL.--NO ONE ON BOARD
UNDERSTANDING NAVIGATION, I DOUBT WHETHER I SHALL FIND MY WAY TO SIERRA
LEONE.--THE CAPTAIN DOES NOT BELIEVE THAT HE IS IN DANGER.--PAUL PLEADS
WITH HIM ABOUT THE SAFETY OF HIS SOUL.--A FIRE BREAKS OUT IN THE HOLD.--
WE IN VAIN ENDEAVOUR TO EXTINGUISH IT.--THE REST OF THE CREW DESERT
US.--PAUL AND I ENDEAVOUR TO SAVE THE CAPTAIN, BUT DRIVEN FROM THE CABIN
BY THE FLAMES LEAP OVERBOARD AND REACH A SMALL BOAT, WHICH WE RIGHT AND
GET INTO.--SEE A SCHOONER APPROACHING US.
At day-break the pilot came on board, the sails were loosed, the anchor
hove-up, and the "Chieftain," with a hot land breeze, which still blew
strong, glided down the river. Captain Willis, who had been brought
from his cabin by Paul and Sambo, sat propped up with pillows on the
deck. It was melancholy to see him, his once strong frame reduced to a
mere skeleton, his countenance pale and haggard, and his strong voice
now sounding weak and hollow, and scarcely to be heard by those to whom
he issued his orders. I stood by him to repeat them. I saw him cast an
eye towards the spot which contained the graves of our shipmates, and I
could divine his thoughts. Perhaps he might have reflected that had he
not been so greedy of gain, many of them might be still alive, while he
himself might be enjoying health and strength.
The mangrove covered shores looked even more sombre and monotonous than
before, in the grey light of morning, as we glided down between them.
The air was hot and oppressive, and full of pestilence, and it seemed a
wonder to me that I should have lived so many weeks while breathing such
an atmosphere. I dreaded lest the breeze should fail us, and we should
be compelled to spend another night under its influence; but the wind
held, the tide was in our favour, and we had nearly reached the mouth of
the river before the wind dropped, and we had to bring up. A few
minutes afterwards the fresh sea breeze came rushing in, pure and sweet,
and comparatively cool. With what delight did I gulp it down. I
quickly felt like another creature. The captain also seemed to revive
rapidly under its influence, and I began to hope that he would
ultimately recover.
I eagerly watched the sparkling lines of white foam as the ocean waves,
meeting the ebbing current of the river, broke across the bar. How I
longed for the evening, when the land breeze would again fill our sails,
and carry us out into the open bounding ocean. It seemed to me that
then all difficulty would be passed, and we should only have to shape
our course for England, and steer on till we should reach it.
The captain, unwilling again to go below, sat all day on deck under an
awning, ready for the moment when we might venture to weigh anchor. It
came at last. Just before sunset the hot wind began to blow. Although
the bar still wore a threatening aspect, the pilot declared that,
without fear, we might venture over it.
Not a moment was lost, on we stood towards it. In a short time foaming
breakers were hissing and bubbling around us. Once more I felt the
vessel rising to the heaving wave, and welcomed the showers of spray
which flew over her deck. On she sped, but very slowly; now she sank
downwards, and it seemed as if the next roller would send her back on
the bar. It glided under her, however, and then she appeared floating,
as it were, almost at rest on its summit, and then downwards she slid,
slowly making her onward way.
In a few minutes more we were in the free open ocean, and the dark
sombre river, with its gloomy associations, was far astern. Every inch
of canvas the vessel could carry was set, that we might get a good
offing before nightfall, when a calm was to be expected.
"I never wish to see that place again," I could not help exclaiming.
"Don't say that, Harry," answered the captain. "We may hope to have
better luck the next time. If you ever want to grow rich you must run
some risk. We have had an unusually sickly season, which may not again
occur; and if the owners ask me to go back, I am not the man to refuse
to do so, and I should look to you to go along with me."
Can it be possible, I thought, that a man, after running so fearful a
risk, would willingly again expose himself to the same danger, merely
for the sake of rapidly gaining wealth? I forgot at the moment that
people not only hazard their health but their souls, for that object.
Had I remembered the fact, I should not have been surprised at what the
captain had said.
We had got out of sight of land, but the wind was very light, and we
made little progress. In a short time it fell calm altogether, and the
vessel lay like a log on the water. The heat, too, was very great, and
the captain appeared to suffer from it. It was evident, indeed, that he
was falling rapidly back, and he had now no strength to come on deck. I
was much alarmed on his account, for I thought it too likely that, after
apparently being so near recovery, he would die. I was anxious also on
our own account, for knowing so little as I did about navigation, I
could not tell how I should take the vessel into port. I got out a
chart and studied it, and marked the spot where I believed we then were.
I then drew a line from it to Sierra Leone, the place for which I
intended to steer. It lay about north-west of us, and I hoped that if I
could sight the land to the southward I might coast along till I came to
it. There were, however, I knew, strong currents running, which might
take us out of our course, and we might have contrary winds, which would
further increase the difficulty. I thought that very likely some of the
blacks knew more about the matter than I did, but I did not like to
confess my apprehensions to them lest they might be tempted to play some
trick, and perhaps run away with the vessel altogether.
The only person in whom I could confide was Paul. I knew that I could
trust him thoroughly, but then I suspected that he was not a better
navigator than I was, as he had only served on board a man-of-war and
merchantmen, when he would not have been able to learn anything about
the matter.
The captain caught sight of me through the open door of his berth, as I
was poring over the chart spread out on the table of the main cabin.
"What are you about, Harry?" he asked.
I told him that I was looking at the chart to see what course we ought
to steer.
"Don't trouble yourself about that, lad," he answered; "I shall be well
as soon as the breeze comes. It's this hot calm keeps me down. If the
wind had continued, I should have been myself again by this time, though
I have had a narrow squeak for it I'll allow."
His face looked so pale and haggard, his eyes so sunken, his voice so
weak and trembling, that I could not help fearing that he was mistaken.
I was unwilling to alarm him, but it was so important that I should know
how to act in case of his death, that I could not help saying,--"But
suppose anything was to happen to you, sir, what should you advise me to
do?"
"I do not intend that anything shall happen to me, Harry," he answered,
evidently annoyed at my remark. "After having got this valuable cargo
on board we must not think of such a thing. Why Harry, in all my
voyages I have never collected half so rich a freight."
"I earnestly hope that you may recover your health, sir," I said. "I
mentioned the subject simply in case of accidents, and I did not suppose
that you would be offended."
"Of course I am not, Harry," he replied. "You don't suppose that I am a
coward and afraid to die; and if it was not for the sake of the vessel
and her freight, I should not care, I fancy, so much about the matter;
but it would never do now to knock under--so don't, Harry, put those
gloomy thoughts again into my head."
On going on deck I told Paul my fears about the captain. "Yes, he very
bad," he said; "but I more sorry about him soul. He think more of the
cargo, which may go to the bottom in one moment, than of his soul, which
live for ever and ever. O Massa Harry, we must speak again to him about
dat. We will plead with him with tears in our eyes, that he think about
his soul, and we will tell him not to trouble about the vessel."
Without loss of time we went to the captain. At first he listened
somewhat coldly to what Paul said, but he did not grow angry. "I thank
you for interesting yourself about me," he said at last. "You may be
right, and if you will pray with me I will try to join you."
Paul and I thereon knelt down, as we had done before, and Paul, in very
plain language, earnestly besought God to send His Holy Spirit to soften
the captain's heart, to show him that he was a lost sinner, and had need
of a Saviour--to enlighten his mind, and to enable him to take hold of
Christ as the only way whereby he could be saved.
The captain remained for a long time afterwards silent. At length he
put out his hand and grasped Paul's. "I see it now," he said, sighing
deeply. "I have been, and still am, a great sinner. Oh, that I knew
better how I could be saved."
"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved," said Paul,
in a firm voice. "That is God's loving message. He sends no other;
and, captain, if all the ministers of your country were to come to you,
they could bring you no other. If you do believe on Jesus, and are to
die this very day, He says to you just what He said when hanging on the
cross on Calvary to the dying thief, `This night thou shalt be with me
in paradise.'"
The captain was greatly moved, and I heard him, between his sobs,
exclaiming, "Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief."
Oh how necessary is that prayer! and I am sure it is one which is always
answered, when the sinner is truly desirous of turning from his sins,
and is seeking, by every means in his power, to strengthen his belief.
I had got out my Bible several days before, and I now read it constantly
to the captain, as well as to myself. Whenever I came to a passage
which seemed to meet his case, he desired me to read it over and over
again. Notwithstanding this, the desire was strong within him to
recover, for the sake of carrying home the vessel and her rich freight
in safety. That was but natural, and I earnestly hoped that he might be
restored to health. Instead, however, of gaining strength, he appeared
to grow weaker and weaker.
The calm had now continued for several days. Often as I looked over the
side I saw dark triangular fins just rising above the surface, and
moving here and there round the ship, and frequently the whole form of
the monster could be discerned as it glided by; and when I saw its keen
cruel eyes glancing up towards me, I felt a shudder pass through my
frame, such as, according to the vulgar notion, a person feels when it
is said that some one is walking over his grave. Occasionally, when
anything was thrown overboard, a white flash was seen rising out of the
deep, and a large pair of jaws, armed with sharp teeth, opening, gulped
it down, and directly afterwards the creature went swimming on, watching
for any other dainty morsel which might come in its way. "How dreadful
it would be to fall overboard," I thought. "Calm as the sea is, a
person, with those creatures around, would have very little chance of
escaping with life."
Dark clouds had been gathering around, and the wavelets began to play
over the hitherto calm ocean. Although as yet there was not much wind,
the sails were trimmed, and, by the captain's orders, the vessel was put
on a north-west course. I concluded, consequently, that he at all
events intended touching at Sierra Leone, to obtain a mate and some
white hands. The wind, however, rapidly increased, sail was taken in,
and before long it was blowing a perfect hurricane. This made the poor
captain more anxious than ever to get on deck, but when he attempted to
move he found that he had not strength even to sit up. The wind howled
and whistled, the vessel tumbled fearfully about, and the seas, which
rose up in foaming masses, frequently broke on board, deluging her deck.
I had gone down to the captain, who had directed me to visit him every
quarter of an hour to let him know how things were going on, when, as I
entered the cabin, I discovered a strong smell of burning, and directly
afterwards I saw thin wreaths of black smoke making their way through
the forward bulk-head. The dreadful conviction came upon me that the
vessel was on fire. I sprang on deck, and calling the boatswain and
Paul, I told them my fears. That they were too well founded we had soon
fearful evidence, for the smoke, now in thick volumes, rose above the
deck, both fore and aft. Still there might be time to extinguish the
fire. To do this it was necessary to take off the main-hatchway, and,
in spite of the risk of a sea beating over us, it was done. The instant
it was off dense masses of black smoke rose up from below, preventing
all attempts which the boatswain and some of his men made to discover
the seat of the fire.
"We must take to the boats," he exclaimed, "the ship soon all in flames,
then the boats burn and we no get away."
Paul and I as well as Sambo tried to persuade him and his Krumen to make
more efforts to put out the fire before they lowered the boats. With
the sea then running, indeed there was every probability that they would
be swamped. We set them the example, by rigging the pumps, and filling
buckets from alongside to heave down the hold. Thus encouraged, they
laboured for a short time, but finding their efforts of no effect, they
abandoned the work and began to lower the boats.
The wind had happily by this time somewhat moderated; while most of the
people were engaged in launching the long boat, Paul and I with two
other men set to work to lower one of the smaller boats. We had not
forgotten the poor captain, and as the smoke had not yet made its way
into his cabin, I did not intend to let him know what had occurred till
the last, when I hoped, with the assistance of Paul and others, to get
him lowered safely into one of the boats.
All hands were working away with frantic haste, for we could not tell at
what moment the flames might burst forth, and render the deck untenable.
At length the long boat was launched, and the boatswain and the Krumen
leaped into her. They called to Sambo and the rest to follow. I
thought Sambo would have remained faithful to the captain, and have come
to assist him, but at that moment a forked flame burst up from the hold,
so alarming him, that he followed the rest. Paul and I entreated the
other men to remain by the smaller boat, while we went into the cabin to
bring up my poor friend the captain. As I was descending the companion
hatch, I heard the boatswain shouting to the other men, and caught sight
of them running to the side. Still I hoped that should they desert us,
Paul and I might be able, after placing the captain in the boat, to
lower her in safety.
"The ship on fire," exclaimed Captain Willis, when I told him what had
occurred, "Heave water down the hold. Do all you can to save our rich
freight, that must not be lost on any account."
I told him that we had done what we could, and that the rest of the crew
had already deserted the vessel.
The captain sank back on his pillow, "I Have no strength to move," he
murmured, "and you and Paul cannot lift me."
"We will try, Massa Captain," said Paul.
I proposed that we should lift him in his cot through the skylight. The
captain at length agreed to this. I sprang on deck, intending to secure
a tackle to the main boom, by which we might carry out my proposal with
greater ease. What was my horror on reaching the deck, to find that the
blacks, on quitting the falls, had neglected to secure them, and that
the boat having fallen into the water had been washed away and capsized.
The flames, too, which were now ascending through the main-hatchway had
caught the other boat, and already her bows were burned through.
With this appalling intelligence I returned below. Escape seemed
impossible. I proposed building a raft, it was a desperate resource,
and there might not be time even to lash a few spars together. I could
not bear the thought of allowing the poor captain to perish miserably
without an attempt to save him. He divined my thoughts. "Its of no
use, Harry, I am prepared for death, and resign myself to the arms of
that merciful God whom I have so lately learned to know," he said, with
perfect calmness.
Paul, while the captain had been speaking, seized a bright axe which
hung against the bulk-head as an ornament, intending to cut away
whatever might assist in forming a raft, and had sprang on deck with it.
He now came down through the skylight hatch, "It is too late," he
exclaimed, "the flames come aft."
He spoke too truly. At that instant dense masses of smoke rushed into
the cabin, and the flames burst through the after bulk head. I was
scorched, by the heat and almost suffocated. So dense was the smoke
which filled the captain's berth, that I could no longer see him.
I felt Paul grasping my hand, "Come Harry, come, too late to save poor
captain," he said, dragging me after him. I was almost stifled, and
gasped for breath. In another moment I should have fallen, indeed I was
so overcome with the smoke that I did not know what was happening.
Happily however I kept firm hold of Paul, and suddenly I found myself
plunged headlong into the water. He had hauled me through the cabin
window.
"Now strike out Massa Harry, I see boat not far off, we get to her," he
exclaimed. I did as he directed me, but the thought of the horrid
sharks I had seen swimming about the vessel, almost paralysed my senses,
and every moment I expected to find myself seized by the cruel jaws of
one of them.
"Cheer up Harry, cheer up," shouted Paul; "there is the boat, we got
Friend in heaven who look after us; never fear, we reach her soon, cheer
up."
With such like cries he continued to animate me. He shouted thus not
only for that object, but to keep any sharks which might be inclined to
seize us at a distance. The boat, as we got near her, was, I saw, keel
upwards.
"Never fear Massa Harry," said Paul, "we soon right her."
We at length reached the boat, and Paul showing me the way, after some
exertion, he going ahead and I keeping astern, we managed to turn her
over. We then shook her from side to side till we had hove out a
considerable amount of water in her. He told me to get in over the
stern, and to begin bailing with my hat. I did as he advised, thankful
to find myself out of the grasp of the sharks. He kept splashing about
with his heels, and constantly turning round to see that none of the
monsters were near. Looking up I caught sight of the long boat standing
away from us under sail towards the shore. She had already got too far
off to allow of our cries reaching her, or even indeed for those on
board to see us. We were thus cruelly deserted by our shipmates. We
could only hope for their credit that they supposed we had already lost
our lives, and that there would be no use looking for us.
At length I having partially cleared the boat, Paul also got in, and we
both began bailing away as hard as we could with our hats. While thus
employed I saw a huge shark approaching, and I fancied looking
disappointed at our having escaped his hungry maw. Happily the sea by
this time had gone considerably down, or our task would have been
rendered hopeless. As it was it took us a considerable time to lessen
the water in the boat, for deep as she was, the water which leaped in
often again nearly refilled her. Still we persevered, for we were, we
knew, labouring for our lives. Meantime the shark, as if longing to
make us its prey, kept swimming round and round the boat. At a short
distance the brigantine was burning furiously, and already the flames,
ascending the masts, had caught the rigging and sails.
While as I could not help doing, I turned my gaze at her I saw far away
in the horizon the white sail of a vessel. "A sail! a sail!" I
shouted; "we are saved Paul, we are saved."
Paul looked up for a minute. "Yes," he said, "she standing this way.
The burning ship bring her down to us. She big schooner. May be good,
may be bad! though."