The next morning Ned went off to summon the doctor from the neighbouring
town, for their guest still remained in an apparently dangerous state.
Several days passed before he was able to rise. He was evidently, from
his conversation and manners, a man of education; but he did not speak
of himself, except to mention that his name was Farrance, and that he
was on a voyage from the Mediterranean in the "Champion" brig, when she
had been cast away; and he again also expressed his gratitude to Miss
Sarah Pack for the kindness he was receiving, and to the lieutenant and
his companions for preserving his life. He made minute inquiries as to
the occurrence, he only remembering that he was clinging to a portion of
the wreck after she had struck, when he felt himself washed into the
foaming breakers. He appeared to be interested in Ned, whom he drew
into conversation, inquiring particularly what profession he intended to
follow.
"I wish to enter the navy, as my father and uncle did," answered Ned;
"but my uncle says that he has no interest, and that I should have
little chance of promotion. Indeed, his means are so limited that I
cannot ask him to provide the necessary funds, so I conclude I shall
have to go into the merchant service."
"Well, well, you are right in desiring not to be an expense to your
uncle. Every man should endeavour, as far as he can, to depend upon his
own exertions; however, you have still some time to think about the
matter, and you will, I hope, succeed in whatever profession you
follow," remarked the stranger.
There was another inmate of the house who appeared to interest him even
more than Edward. A little girl of some ten or twelve years of age--a
fair-haired, blue-eyed damsel, with a sweet, gentle expression of
countenance, yet full of life and spirits. Edward had told him that she
was not his sister, although he loved her as much as if she were. The
first evening he came into the sitting-room the lieutenant heard him ask
her name.
"I am called Mary," she answered; "Uncle John gave me my name when he
first found me."
She shortly afterwards left the room. The stranger watched her as she
went out with a look of much surprise.
"You may be curious to know the meaning of her remark," observed Miss
Sarah. "My brother will tell you how she came into our possession; very
thankful I have been to have so sprightly and sweet a young creature
under our roof, though at first I confess I felt somewhat anxious when
he placed her in my charge."
Mr Farrance turned an inquiring glance towards his host.
"I have but a short yarn to spin about the matter," said the lieutenant.
"Some few years ago, after I had quitted the service, an old friend
offered me the command of a ship bound on a voyage round the Cape of
Good Hope and up the Red Sea. I was not sorry to obtain employment, and
was glad to have the opportunity of making a few pounds, which might
assist to keep the pot boiling at home, and help Sally in her
housekeeping. Having touched at the Cape, I was steering for Aden, when
we were overtaken by a heavy gale, which pretty severely tried my stout
ship. We were about to make sail in the morning, the wind having abated
and the sea gone down, when an object was seen floating a short distance
ahead. On getting nearer, we saw that it was a piece of wreck with a
man upon it. Standing on, I hove the ship to, and having lowered a
boat, watched with interest her approach to the raft. The man was, I
made out, a black. He was holding what looked like a bundle of clothes
with one hand, keeping it above the water, which still nearly washed
over him. His bundle contained, I had no doubt, something of value, or
he would not have exerted himself as he was doing to preserve it from
the sea. It was of value, and, to my mind, the most valuable thing in
creation--a young child, as I discovered when the boat returned with the
rescued man, who still held fast to his treasure. We lifted them both
carefully on board. The black sank exhausted on the deck, making signs
to us, however, to take care of the child. We thought that it was his
own, but when we got a look at its countenance, greatly to our surprise
we found that it was as fair as any European. How the man had managed
to preserve it during the heavy sea which had been running for some
hours seemed a miracle. We carried them both into my cabin. The little
girl, you may be sure, had plenty of nurses. She looked frightened
enough at seeing us, but appeared wonderfully little the worse for the
exposure to which she had been subjected; indeed, although the shawl
which had wrapped her was wet, the water was warm and the black must
have contrived to keep her head well out of the sea, as her face and
hair were only moistened by the spray.
"Though she seemed almost too young to speak, she uttered several words
in a lingo none of us understood. In a very short time after we had
given her some food, and she had had a quiet sleep, she seemed more
happy and smiled, and lifted up her face to kiss me when I bent over
her. I thanked Heaven that I had been the means of saving the little
darling.
"It was not until evening that the black, who was pretty well exhausted
by his exertions, awoke. I was disappointed, I can tell you, when on
speaking to him, he answered in a language of which I could not
comprehend a word. We tried him in all sorts of ways, and he made a
variety of signs, but we could not comprehend the meaning he intended to
convey. In appearance he greatly resembled the slaves I had seen at
Zanzibar, on board the Arab dhows, though better-looking. Like most of
them, he had but a clout round his waist, and his woolly hair was
cropped close. Still he evidently did not lack intelligence. It was
very tantalising to find that we could get no information out of him.
The little girl was equally unable to give an account of herself, though
I fancied that she understood us when we spoke English, but she could
not reply intelligibly.
"I treated the black as he deserved, for the brave way in which he had
saved the child, and he showed that he was grateful for such kindness as
I bestowed upon him.
"As to the little girl, though I made inquiries at every place I touched
at, I could get no information by which I could even guess where she had
come from or who she was. From her ways and tone of voice I felt sure,
however, that she was of gentle birth. The black seemed mortally afraid
of the Arabs, and kept below when any came on board or any dhows hove in
sight; indeed it was some time before we could make him understand that
he was safe with us, and that no one would venture to take him away by
force. He soon became a great favourite with the men, who gave him the
name of Tom, in addition to the one by which he called himself, which
sounded like Baraka, and Tom Baraka he has been ever since. In a short
time he picked up a few words of English, with which he managed to make
himself understood; but it was not until we were on the voyage home that
he was able to give me an idea how he and the little girl came to be on
the piece of wreck from which we rescued him. I would call him in, and
let him give his own history; but I think I can make you understand the
account better if I give it in ordinary English, for I took no little
trouble during several months to get the truth out of him, anxious as he
was to give the information I required. His vocabulary being somewhat
limited, he accompanied his words by signs, often of so curious a
description that it was with difficulty my officers and I could restrain
ourselves from bursting into fits of laughter, and yet his account was
sad enough.
"I placed before him the best map I possessed of the part of Africa from
which I calculated he came, and explained to him the rivers and lakes
marked upon it. He shook his head, as if he could make nothing of it,
but at last fixed on a spot some way in the interior.
"`There!' he said, making a wide circle with his finger, `There abouts
was my home. By the banks of a river which fell into a lake my people
and I were happy in our way, we cultivated our fields and tended our
cattle, and had abundance of food without thinking of the future. We
heard, it is true, that the cruel men who come across from the big sea
had carried off not a few of the inhabitants of other districts; but it
was a long, long distance away, and we hoped they would never come near
us. We lived as our fathers had done. Occasionally we had to fight to
punish our neighbours, who came upon our land and tried to carry off our
cattle; and as I grew up and increased in strength I became a warrior,
but I only wished to fight to protect my home and my fields from our
enemies. When old enough I married a wife, who was as fond of me as
woman could be. When kindly treated black women love their husbands, as
do their white sisters. We had a little child, I was fond of him, oh!
so fond. My delight when I came in from the fields was to carry him
about in my arms, or to roll with him on the grass, letting him tumble
over me and pull my hair and ears, and then he would smile down into my
face and laugh merrily. I was a hunter also, and used fearlessly to
attack huge elephants for the sake of their tusks, as well as for their
flesh, especially for their big feet, which afford a dainty meal. Even
one would be sufficient for the whole of our party. I had crossed the
river, with several companions, armed with bows, arrows, and spears,
intending to go some distance south, where many elephants, it was said,
had been seen. A stranger brought the account. We had gone a day's
journey, and were encamped at night, hoping to fall in with a herd of
elephants the next day. We had eaten our evening meal, and were about
to lie down to sleep, when we were startled by hearing a shower of
bullets come whistling above our heads. We rose to fly, but knew not
which way to go, for from either side strange cries assailed our ears,
and before we could recover from our surprise a large party of men, with
gleaming swords in their hands, rushed in upon us. Snatching up our
spears we attempted to defend ourselves, but were quickly overpowered,
two of my friends being killed and others badly wounded. We were at
once bound with cords and thrown on the ground, while our captors were
employed in preparing another way to secure us. They were fierce men in
dark dresses, some wearing turbans on their heads, others red caps. I
watched their proceedings, thinking that, perhaps, they were going to
kill and eat us. They cut down some young trees, leaving a fork at one
end, and fixing a thick branch at the other, so as to form another fork.
When several logs had thus been prepared, they made us with kicks get
up, and picking out the strongest men among us, placed one at one end of
a leg, and one at the other, securing them by the forks round our necks.
As our arms were lashed behind our backs we could offer no resistance,
but, pricked by the spears or sword points of our captors, were
compelled to march forward in the direction they ordered us. Twenty or
more of us were thus secured; the remainder were fastened together by a
long rope, one behind the other at an interval of a few feet, with their
arms lashed behind them, led by an Arab. With the heavy log round our
necks we had no chance of escaping, nor indeed had the others, who would
have been shot had they made the attempt. Two or three of the worst
wounded sank down from loss of blood. The Arabs made them get up and
proceed, but finding at last that the poor wretches could not keep up
with the rest, took them out of the line, and putting pistols to their
heads, shot them dead. We were joined as we proceeded towards the coast
by other captives, taken much as we had been, and treated in the same
cruel manner. Some, who had come from still further up the country than
we had, and who had thus a longer march, told us that one-third of their
number had died or been killed on the way, so that even those who were
suffering severely from sickness endeavoured to struggle on as long as
they had strength to move for fear of being murdered.'
"`At night we were ordered to lie down before the fire, with a strong
guard placed over us. We were generally amply fed, in order that our
strength might be kept up. Although we passed through several
thickly-populated districts, no one dared to help us for fear of the
Arabs. At length we reached the bank of a river, near the sea-coast,
where we found a large vessel ready to receive us. We were at once
ordered to go on board, when we were placed on a bamboo deck, packed
close to each other, with our chins resting on our knees. As soon as
some fifty or more of us were stowed on the lower deck, another deck was
placed over our heads, preventing us even from sitting upright. On this
another layer of slaves was stowed in the same way that we were. A
third deck was placed above them, which was also crowded with
unfortunate captives. We could hear the voices of those above us, and
frequently their cries, as the Arabs beat them in order to make them sit
closer. A narrow passage was left down the centre of the deck, along
which the Arabs could pass to bring us our food. We were thus kept a
couple of days in the river, either waiting for a fair wind, or because
our masters were afraid of being caught by some of the ships of the
white men. Our condition was bad enough in smooth water, but we were to
find it considerably worse when we got into the open sea. My only
consolation was that my wife and little boy had escaped. I knew that
they would be mourning for me, whom they were never to see again. I
then wished that they were dead, that their grief might come to an end;
and sometimes a terrible thought came to me that they too might some day
be captured and carried off to the same horrible slavery which I was
doomed, as I thought, to bear. There were not only men on board, but
women and children, to be taken to a far distant country, of which we
had never before heard. Where it was we could not tell, but we knew, by
one telling the other, that it was inhabited by the same sort of people
as the Arabs, and we supposed that they would beat and otherwise cruelly
treat us if we did not obey them. The younger women and children were
better cared for than we men were, and wore well fed, to make them look
plump and healthy. The vessel had one great nearly triangular sail, and
the after part rose high out of the water, while the bows seemed as if
they would dip under it. At last, the wind being fair, we sailed. For
some time we glided on. A few of us were sent on deck at a time to
breath the fresh air. I felt my heart sink within me, when, on looking
round, I could nowhere see the land, nothing but the smooth, shining
ocean on every side. It was terrible; I thought we should never again
set foot on shore. I had often paddled my canoe on the river, and had
even made trading voyages down to the great lake, where I had seen huge
waves covered with foam rolling across it; but on such occasions we had
quickly made for the shore. Twice my canoe had been upset, but I had
easily gained it by swimming. Suddenly the wind began to roar, the
thunder rolled above our heads, and the dhow was tossed about by the sea
in a way which made me expect that she would speedily be thrown over,
and that all on board would be sent into the raging waves. Pitiful were
the shrieks and cries of my companions. In vain the Arabs ordered them
to keep quiet; they believed that their last hour was come, and cared
not what was said to them. I determined, whatever happened, to struggle
for my life. I was young and strong; and the thought entered my mind
that I might swim to the shore, and get back some day to my wife and
children, though I knew that my home must be a long way off. I felt
quite disappointed when the storm ceased, and the dhow glided on her
course as before. When I next went on deck, I saw that she was in
company with other vessels, rigged as she was, and sailing in the same
direction. Each of them had prisoners on board. The decks of two or
three of the larger ones were crowded with black forms, and I guessed
that there were as many more below. Our dhow sailed very fast, and was
passing most of them, when a calm came on, and we lay all huddled
together, near enough for the people in one vessel to speak to those on
board another. Presently I heard the Arabs shouting to each other that
there was a large sail in sight. The news seemed to alarm them. She
was coming towards the fleet of dhows, bringing up a breeze. At last
the wind filled our sails, and the dhows began to separate. We fancied
that if we could keep ahead of the stranger that she could not harm us;
but we saw flashes of flame proceeding from her side, and round shot
came bounding over the water towards us; first one dhow was hit, now
another. At last one shot struck our vessel, going through the side,
and fearful were the cries which arose from the people below, who were
wounded, or expected to be killed by other shots. I had been allowed to
remain on deck, for the Arabs in their flight did not think about the
slaves. I saw some of the dhows lower their sails, when boats from the
big ship took possession of them. Our dhow sailing faster than the
others soon got ahead, and I saw our Arab masters rejoicing that they
should escape; but the wind was increasing; every instant it grew
stronger and stronger. The large sail was lowered, and a small one
hoisted, but we dashed over the fast rising sea at greater speed than
ever, soon losing sight of the big ship, which, after securing the
prizes she had taken, pursued some other dhows, who were endeavouring to
make their escape in different directions to that we were steering. The
storm, however, increased. The Arabs now began to look alarmed. In
vain they tried to stop the hole which the shot had made in the vessel's
side; finding this difficult, owing to the crowd of slaves below, they
began to throw those in their way overboard. Some were dead, others
wounded, but many were uninjured. They shrieked out for mercy, but the
Arabs heeded them not.'
"`I had kept in the fore part of the vessel, hidden behind a coil of
rope, fully expecting that they would soon seize me. After labouring
away for some time and finding the water come in as fast as ever, they
began to lower a boat and canoe, for the purpose of getting into them,
and trying to save their lives, intending to leave me and my companions
to our fate. The sea was foaming and roaring around us. It seemed that
at any moment the dhow would sink. The sail was now lowered, and the
boat and canoe were got into the water. The cry arose that the dhow was
sinking, and the Arabs leapt into them in such haste that the boat was
upset, and all in her were speedily overwhelmed. The canoe, after being
tossed about on the tops of the waves for a few minutes, was also turned
over, and all in her shared the fate of their companions. She was not
far off at the time. I thought that I might reach her, but I remembered
my fellow-slaves. I found a knife which one of the Arabs had left on
the deck, and was endeavouring to release some of the men, who might be
able to swim with me to the canoe, when I felt that the dhow was going
down. I sprang overboard, and with a few strokes gained the canoe,
being almost thrown on to her by the seas, when I felt that she was
being drawn under the surface; but I clutched tight hold of her, and she
quickly came up again. For a few moments the shrieks and cries of my
drowning countrymen rose high above the loud dashing of the waves and
the howling of the storm, but they were speedily silenced, and I found
myself floating alone on the tossing waters. I wished to live for the
sake of my wife and child. In my ignorance I knew not how far I was
away from the land, still I struggled for life. All night long I clung
to the canoe, and before morning the wind had fallen and the sea had
become smooth. I was able to right the canoe, when I saw close to me a
gourd and a paddle. I reached them by working the canoe on with my
hands, and contrived to bale her out. I saw the sun rise, and knew that
the land lay on the opposite side. I tried to paddle towards it; but I
had had no food and no water, and the sun came down with a heat I had
never felt on shore. Still, for hours I paddled on, when I saw the
sails of a big ship rising above the horizon. She must be, I thought,
the one which had captured the dhows. Fear filled my heart, for the
Arabs had told us that the white men would kill and eat us. Terror and
the suffering I had undergone overcame me; I sank down at the bottom of
the canoe, and knew no more until I found myself on board a ship, with
white people standing round me. I could not understand a word they
said, nor tell them how I came to be in the canoe, but they looked kind,
and my fears left me. I was well fed and cared for, and soon recovered
my strength. There were several persons whom I now know to have been
passengers. One lady, very fair and beautiful, who spoke in a gentle,
sweet voice to me, trying to make me comprehend what she meant. She had
a little girl with her. I loved that child from the first, for she made
me think of my own boy by her playful ways and happy laugh, though she
was fair as a lily, and my boy was as black as I am, but I thought not
of the difference of colour. I felt that I should never wish to leave
that kind lady and her child. In a few days the weather again became
bad, a fearful gale began to blow. The ship was tossed about far more
violently than the dhow had been. Presently, during the night, I heard
a loud crash, followed by the shouts and shrieks of the crew and
passengers. My first thought was of the little girl. On reaching the
deck a flash of lightning showed her to me, clinging to her mother's
arms. I made signs that I would try and save her, and I wrapped her up
in some shawls which had been brought from below. The officers and crew
were, I saw, trying to lower the boats. Whether they succeeded or not I
could not tell, for the seas were sweeping over the ship, and I knew too
that she was sinking, as the dhow had done. While I was standing by the
lady's side, looking for one of the boats into which to help her, a huge
sea separated us, carrying me off my legs, and I found myself struggling
amid the foaming waves. I had caught sight of a dark object floating
near, far larger than a boat. By what means I know not I reached it.
It was part of the wreck of a dhow or of some other vessel against which
our ship had struck. I climbed upon it with my little charge, whose
head I had managed to keep above water. She was crying out for her
mamma. I knew that name. I tried to console her. For some time voices
reached my ear, but whether they came from the boats or the deck of the
ship I could not tell; I guessed, too truly, that she had gone down, for
when morning at last dawned neither she nor the boats were to be seen.
I feared that the little girl would sink from hunger and thirst, for I
remembered what I had endured in the canoe; but scarcely had the sun
risen than I saw a ship approaching, and you, Massa Pack, know the
rest.'
"It was my ship which Tom saw coming. Of course we soon had him and his
little charge on board. You will understand that I have given what I
may call a translation of his yarn. It was spun, as it were, in a
number of shreds, and I have put them together; still I have expressed
his sentiments, and have not adorned his tale by adding to it anything
he did not say. Many a time did he melt into tears as he spoke of his
own child and the love he bore him, and it would be difficult to picture
fully all the horrors he endured during his journey overland and his
voyage in the slave dhow. To send him back to his home I knew was
impossible, he would have been retaken by the first Arab party he fell
in with, or been murdered as he was trying to pass through the territory
of any hostile tribe. He therefore cheerfully remained on board my
ship, and has stayed with me ever since, pretty well reconciled to his
lot, his whole soul wrapped up in Mary, who has taken the place in his
affections of the son from whom he has, he believes, for ever been
separated, though he is devoted also to my sister, and to Ned and me.
That black fellow has as big a heart as any white man. He does not,
however, forget his wife and child, for since he became a Christian, his
great desire is that they should be brought to a knowledge of the truth.
If it were possible, I would help him to get back to his native
village, but to do so is beyond my means. Indeed, from what I hear I
fear that the Arabs have long ere this carried them off into captivity,
or that, deprived of their protector, they have died of hunger or been
killed by their cruel persecutors. Those Arabs have long been the curse
of that part of Africa--indeed, for the purpose of obtaining slaves,
they have devastated many of its most fertile districts."
His guest listened with evident interest to the account given by the
lieutenant.
"I have not hitherto turned my attention in that direction," observed
the former. "Of course I have heard much of the slave trade on the
western coast and of the horrors of the middle passage, but I believed
that it is now carried on only in a very limited degree, and that the
inhabitants of the east coast are well able to take care of themselves."
"I have cruised on both coasts, and am convinced that the people on the
east part of Africa are subjected to cruelties fully equal to those
which the western tribes have for so many ages endured," answered the
lieutenant. "Tom's experience is that of thousands; but he did not
describe the miseries suffered by those left behind, the despair of the
women and children, and of the men who may have escaped from the sudden
attack made on their village, to find it when they have returned burned
to the ground, their fields laid waste, and their cattle carried off.
No one can calculate the numbers who have died from hunger in a land
teeming with abundance."
Ned and Mary came in during the latter part of the conversation, to
which they paid the greatest attention.
"I wish I could help to put a stop to such horrible doings," exclaimed
Ned. "I should like to see an English fleet employed in catching all
the dhows, and an army sent to march through the country to turn all the
Arabs out of it. It would be an honour to serve even as a drummer-boy
on shore, or as a powder-monkey on board one of the ships."
Their guest smiled at Ned's enthusiasm.
"A more certain way may be found for benefiting the Africans than by
armies or fleets," observed Miss Sarah; "if a band of faithful
missionaries of the Gospel were scattered through the country, they
would, with God's blessing, carry Christianity and civilisation to the
long benighted and cruelly treated people."
"You speak the truth, madam, the matter is worthy of consideration,"
observed the guest, turning to Miss Sarah. "I have learned several
things since I came into your house. I wish that I could remain longer
to learn more, but I am compelled to go up to London; and as I feel
myself sufficiently strong to travel, I must, early to-morrow morning,
wish you farewell."