Two days afterwards found the one-legged lieutenant and his young
companions on their way to Portsmouth. Ned bore the parting manfully,
though he did not the less acutely feel having to wish good-bye to Aunt
Sally, Mary, and Tom Baraka.
"If you go to my country, Massa Ned, an' if you see any ob my people,
tell dem where Tom Baraka is," said the black, as he wrung Ned's hand.
"Dare is one ting I long for--to find my wife and boy, and to tell dem
dat I Christian, an' want dem to be Christian also."
"You have not told me your son's name, so that even should I meet him, I
should not know that he is your son," said Ned.
"Him called Chando," answered Tom. "Him know dat name when you call
him."
"And your wife--what is her name?" asked Ned. "Him--Masika," said Tom
after a few moments' thought--it was so long since he had uttered his
wife's name. "O Massa Ned, you bring dem back, and God bless you."
"Chando--Masika," repeated Ned. "But I am afraid that there is very
little chance of my finding your family, Tom, though I should be truly
thankful to meet with them; I don't know even to what part of the coast
of Africa I am going. It is a large country, and though I may see
thousands of the inhabitants, those you care for may not be among them."
"Massa Ned, if God wish to bring dem to you, He can find de way," said
the black, in a tone of simple faith. "I no say He will do it, but He
can do it, dat I know."
Ned did not forget this conversation with poor Tom, not that he
entertained the slightest hope that he should fall in with his wife or
son; indeed, should he do so, how should he possibly know them? He
determined, however, to ask all the Africans he might meet with where
they came from, and should it appear that they were natives of the part
of the country Tom had described to him, to make more minute inquiries.
He knew as well as Tom that God can bring about whatever He thinks fit;
but he was too well instructed not to know that our Heavenly Father does
not always act as men wish or think best--for that He sees what man in
his blindness does not. No one, except Mary, perhaps, missed Ned more
than did Tom Baraka. Poor Mary! it was her first great trial in life.
She found more difficulty than she had ever done before in learning her
lessons, and she about her daily avocations with a far less elastic step
than was her wont. She was too young, however, to remain long
sorrowful, and was as pleased as ever to accompany Aunt Sally on her
rounds among her poor neighbours.
The travellers reached Portsmouth, and repaired to the "Blue Posts," the
inn at which Mr Pack had been accustomed to put up in his younger days.
Next morning he took the two boys on board the "Ione," which lay
alongside the hulk off the dockyard. Lieutenant Hanson, who had already
joined, received them in a kind manner, which made Charley whisper to
Ned that they were all right, as it was clear that their first
lieutenant was not one of those stiff chaps who look as if they had
swallowed pokers, and he hoped that their commander was of the same
character.
Two days passed rapidly away in visiting the numerous objects of
interest to be seen at Portsmouth. Ned's kit was ready, and his uncle
finally took him on board the "Ione," which had cast off from the hulk,
and was getting ready to go out to Spithead. Ned was introduced to the
commander, who shook his uncle and him by the hand in a friendly way.
"I hope that the ship will be a happy one," said Captain Curtis. "It
will depend much on his messmates and him whether it is so, and they'll
find me ready to serve them if they act as I trust may."
The next day the "Ione" went out to Spithead, the one-legged lieutenant,
by the commander's invitation, being on board. With a beaming eye he
watched Ned, who performed various duties in a way which showed that he
knew well what he was about.
"He'll do, he'll do," he said to himself more than once. "Meadows, too,
seems an active young fellow. Nothing could have turned out better."
At length the moment for parting came. Ned accompanied his uncle down
the side, and again and again the kind old lieutenant wrung his hand
before he stepped into the wherry which was to carry him to shore. Ned
stood watching the boat, thinking of his uncle and his home, until he
was recalled to himself by the boatswain's whistle summoning the crew to
weigh anchor and make sail. With a fair breeze and all canvas spread,
the "Ione" stood out through the Needle Passage on her course down
channel. As she came off that part of the coast where his boyhood had
been spent, he turned a wistful gaze in that direction, knowing that
although the lieutenant was not at home, his telescope would be pointed
seaward, and that even then Mary might be looking at the graceful ship
which floated like a swan over the calm water. The Lizard was the last
point of land seen, and the "Ione" stood out into the broad Atlantic.
"Well, Ned, we are at sea at last, you really have shown yourself more
of a man than I expected," said Charley Meadows.
"What should have made you fancy I should have been otherwise?" asked
Ned.
"Why, you've been brought up so much at home that I was afraid you'd
prove rather too soft for the life you'll have to lead on board.
However, I have no fear about that, whatever others may think. Some of
the fellows may try to bully you because you are the youngest on board,
but keep your temper, and do not let them see that you know what they
are about; I'll back you up, and they'll soon cease annoying you."
Ned followed his friend's advice, and managed without quarrelling or
fighting to obtain the respect of even the least well-disposed of his
messmates.
Charley was at first inclined to exhibit a somewhat patronising manner
towards Ned, who, however, wisely did not show that he perceived this,
nor did he in the slightest degree resent it. He from the first had
endeavoured to gain all the nautical knowledge he possibly could, and
was never ashamed of asking for information from those able to afford
it.
"That's the way to become a seaman," observed Mr Dawes the boatswain,
to whom he frequently went when he wanted any matter explained. "Come
to me as often as you like, and I shall be glad to tell you what I know;
and I ought to know a thing or two, as I've been at sea, man and boy,
pretty near five-and-twenty years, though I've not got much
book-learning."
Ned thanked him, promising to take advantage of his offer, and, as was
natural, became a great favourite with the boatswain. Ned was well up
in many of the details of seamanship, and having been accustomed to
boats all his life, was as well able to manage one as anybody on board.
He quickly learned to go aloft, and to lay out on the yards to reef or
loose the sails, while he was as active and fearless as many a far older
seaman. His knowledge of navigation too was considerable, his uncle
having taken great pains to instruct him, he, on his part, being always
anxious to learn. Charley, therefore, in a short time, finding that Ned
was not only his equal in most respects, but his superior in several,
dropped his patronising manner, and they became faster friends than
ever.
The first lieutenant, Mr Hanson, did not fail to remark Ned's progress,
and calling him up, expressed his approval. "Go on as you have begun,
Garth, and you will become a good officer. The commander has his eye on
you, and will always, you may depend upon it, prove your friend."
Although with most of his messmates Ned got on very well, two or three,
it was very evident, disliked him on account of his zeal and good
conduct, which reflected, they might have considered, on their
behaviour.
The senior mate in the berth, "Old Rhymer" as he was called, who was
soured by disappointment at not obtaining his commission, as he thought
he ought to have done long ago, took every opportunity of finding fault
with him, and was continually sneering at what he said when at the mess
table. If he attempted to reply, O'Connor, the eldest of the
midshipmen, was sure to come down on him and join Rhymer.
"You'll be after getting a cobbing, Master Garth, if you don't keep your
tongue quiet in presence of your elders," exclaimed the latter.
"I have said nothing to offend any one," said Ned.
"We are the judges of that," replied O'Connor, beginning to knot his
handkerchief in an ominous fashion. "You and Meadows are becoming too
conceited by half, because the first lieutenant and the commander have
taken it into their heads that you are something above the common."
"I have no reason to suppose that from anything they have said to me,"
answered Ned. "The first lieutenant merely advised me to go on doing my
duty, and that is what I intend to do; I don't see how that should
offend you."
"We are the best judges of what is offensive and what is not, Master
Jackanapes," exclaimed Rhymer, "so take that for daring to reply," and
he threw a biscuit across the berth, which would have hit Ned on the eye
had he not ducked in time to avoid it.
"Thank you for your good intentions, Rhymer," said Ned, picking up the
biscuit and continuing to eat the duff on which he was engaged.
O'Connor meantime went on knotting his handkerchief, and only waiting
for a word from Rhymer to commence operations on Ned's back. Ned took
no notice, but as soon as he had finished dinner he sprang up and made
for the door of the berth.
"Stop that youngster!" exclaimed Rhymer; "he is not to set our authority
at defiance. Come back I say, Garth."
No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the
locker behind his companions' backs, gained the door. O'Connor, eager
to obey the old mate's commands, made a spring over the table, and in so
doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his
face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the
deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter
from his messmates.
Ned reached the upper deck before O'Connor had regained his legs. The
latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be
revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley
Meadows.
"You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they'll pay you off
some day," observed Charley.
"I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try
and make friends with them as soon as possible," answered Ned. He
watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the
berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to
treat him much in the same way, though O'Connor forbore the use of the
cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly
against him.
Week after week went by, the "Ione" steadily continuing her course to
the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few
days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but
could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were
calms and light winds.
The line was passed. Much to O'Connor's disappointment, the commander
would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should
not receive "Daddy Neptune" and his Tritons on board.
The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of
her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that
magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and
water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade
wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic.
Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were anticipating a run on
shore, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the
east coast, to assist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to
be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian
markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to
sea, and declared that they would have remained on shore had they known
they were to be engaged in such abominable work.
"I have heard all about it," exclaimed Rhymer. "We shall never have a
moment's quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we
capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty
blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set
them on shore, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of
complaints breaking out among them."
Very different were Ned's feelings when he heard the news; it was the
very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His
knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure
that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were
disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and
might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a
Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote
one, that he might fall in with Tom's wife and child, and he pictured to
himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He
did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he
considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine
to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O'Connor, who would only have
laughed at him.
The "Ione" had a quick passage round the south coast of Africa, and she
now entered the Mozambique Channel. The chart showed that she had
reached the twentieth degree of south latitude, and about the
forty-first of east longitude. Away to the west, though far out of
sight, were the mouths of the Zambesi river, whose waters have been
explored from their source to the ocean by the energetic Livingstone,
while to the right was the magnificent island of Madagascar, many of
whose long benighted people have since accepted the Gospel. The ship
glided on over the smooth sea, her sails spread to a gentle southerly
breeze. The heat was great; it had been rapidly increasing. As the hot
sun shone down from a cloudless sky on the deck, the pitch bubbled up as
if a fire were beneath it, and O'Connor declared that he could cook a
beef steak, if he had one, on the capstan head.
"Hot, do you call it?" observed Rhymer, who had before been in those
seas. "Wait until we get under the line; we may roast an ox there by
tricing it up to the fore-yard, and even then should have to lower it
into the sea every now and then to prevent it being done too quickly."
Every shady spot was eagerly sought for by officers and crew, though, as
the air was pure, no one really suffered by the heat. Other smaller
islands were passed, though not seen--among them Johanna and Comoro,
inhabited by dark-skinned races. At last the island of Zanzibar, close
in with the African coast, was sighted, and as the breeze blew off its
undulating plains, Ned and Charley agreed that they could inhale the
perfume of its spice groves and its many fragrant flowers. As the ship
drew nearer the land, on the lower ground could be distinguished large
plantations of sugar-cane, with forests of cocoa-nut trees, just beyond
the line of shining sands separating them from the blue water, while
here and there rose low rocky cliffs of varied tints of red and brown.
On the uplands were seen rows of clove-trees ranged in exact order
between the plantations, groups of palm or dark-leaved mangoes, with
masses of wild jungle, where nature was still allowed to have its own
way. Further on white flat-roofed buildings with numerous windows
appeared in sight; then the harbour opened up, in which floated a crowd
of vessels of all nations, some with red banners floating from their
mast-heads, forming the sultan's navy, others English ships of war,
merchantmen, countless dhows with high sterns and strange rigs; then
more houses and terraces with arches and colonnades came into view, with
several consular flags flying above them.
"That's Zanzibar, the capital of the sultan of that ilk. A very
beautiful place you may think it," said Rhymer; "but wait until we get
on shore, and then give me your opinion."
"Shorten sail and bring ship to an anchor!" shouted the first
lieutenant.
The boatswain's whistle sounded, the hands flew aloft, the canvas was
furled, and in a few minutes the "Ione" was brought up at no great
distance from the town. The commander shortly afterwards went on shore,
and several members of the midshipmen's berth obtained leave to follow
him under charge of Rhymer.
"Remember, young gentlemen, keep together, and do nothing to offend the
natives," said Mr Hanson as they were about to shove off. "They are
not like the inhabitants of European places, and are quick to resent
what they may consider an insult. You cannot be too careful in your
conduct towards them."
Attractive as the place appeared from the sea, the party had not gone
far when they were inclined to pass a very different opinion on it. The
houses looked dilapidated, the inhabitants, black and brown, squalid and
dirty, though a few Arabs in picturesque costumes, armed to the teeth,
were encountered strolling about with a swaggering air, while odours
abominable in the extreme rose from all directions. The party made
their way through the crooked, narrow lanes, with plastered houses on
each side, in the lower floors of which were Banyans, wearing red
turbans, seated in front of their goods, consisting either of coloured
cottons or calicoes, or heaps of ivory tusks, or of piles of loose
cotton, crockery, or cheap Birmingham ware. Further on they came to
rows of miserable huts, the doors occupied by woolly-headed blacks, who,
in spite of the filth and offensive smells arising from heaps of refuse,
seemed as merry as crickets, laughing, chattering, and bargaining in
loud tones.
Most of the people they met on foot appeared to be bending their steps
to one quarter; on pursuing the same road the naval party found
themselves at the entrance of a large open space or square crowded with
people. Round it were arranged groups of men, women, and children of
various hues, jet black or darkest of browns predominating.
"Who can all these people be?" asked Charley.
"Slaves, to be sure; they are brought here to be sold," answered Rhymer.
"Let's go on, it will be some fun to watch them."
Rhymer led the way round the square, examining the different groups of
slaves. Although the greater number looked very squalid and wretched,
others had evidently been taken care of. Among them were a party of
Gallas, mostly women, habited in silk and gauze dresses, with their hair
prettily ornamented to increase their personal attractions, which were
far superior to those of the negroes. Close to the group stood a man
who acted as auctioneer, ready to hand his goods over to the highest
bidder. The purchasers were chiefly Arabs, who walked about surveying
the hapless slaves, and ordering those to whom they took a fancy to be
paraded out before them, after which they examined the mouths and limbs
of any they thought of purchasing, striking their breasts and pinching
their arms and legs to ascertain that they possessed sufficient muscle
and wind for their work.
Ned turned away from the scene with disgust. He longed to be able to
liberate the poor slaves, and to place them where they could obtain
religious instruction and the advantages of civilisation, for they were,
he knew, being dragged from one state of barbarism to another, in many
cases infinitely worse, where they would become utterly degraded and
debased.
"Is there no hope for these poor people?" he exclaimed, turning to
Charley. "Cannot our commander interfere?"
"He has not the authority to do so in the dominions of the sultan; we
can only touch those whom we meet on the high seas, beyond certain
limits. We shall soon have an opportunity, however, of setting some of
them free, for the commander told Mr Hanson that we are only to remain
here a couple of days, and then to commence our cruise to the
northward."
"The sooner the better," exclaimed Ned; "we shall all catch fever if we
stay long in this place. Rhymer was right in what he said about it,
fair as it looks outside."
Ned was not disappointed; the "Ione" was soon again at sea, and had
reached the latitude beyond which his commander had authority to capture
all dhows with slaves on board. A bright look-out was kept aloft, from
the first break of day until darkness covered the face of the deep, for
any dhows sailing northward, but day after day passed by and none were
seen. The ship was then kept further off the land, the commander
suspecting that the Arabs and slave traders had notice of his
whereabouts. The following day three dhows were seen; chase was made;
they were overtaken and boarded; one, however, was a fair trader, but
about the two others there was considerable doubt. They each carried a
large number of people, whom the Arab captains averred were either
passengers or part of their crews. As no one contradicted them, they
were allowed to proceed on their voyage.
"This dhow chasing is dull work," exclaimed Rhymer. "I'll bet anything
that we don't make a single capture; and if we do, what is the good of
it, except the modicum of prize money we might chance to pocket? The
blacks won't be a bit the better off, and the Arabs will be the losers."
"They deserve to be the losers," exclaimed Charley, who, influenced by
the remarks of Ned, had become as much interested as he was in the duty
in which they were engaged. "What business have they to make slaves of
their fellow-creatures?"
"Business! Why, because they want slaves, and set about the best way of
getting them," answered Rhymer, with a laugh. The ship was now nearly
under the line. The heat, as Rhymer had forewarned his messmates, was
very great, though not enough to roast an ox; and when there was a
breeze, it was at all events endurable in the shade. Had it been much
greater it would not have impeded Commander Curtis in the performance of
his duty. Ned bore it very well, although he confessed to Charley that
he should like a roll in the snow. When the ship was becalmed the crew
were allowed a plunge overboard, but they were ordered to keep close to
the side for fear of sharks, and a sail was rigged out in the water for
those who could not swim. Several more days passed without a single
dhow being seen, and Rhymer declared that they would catch no slavers,
for the best of reasons, that there were no slavers to be caught, or
that if there were, they would take good care to keep out of their way.