"Six feet water in the hold, sir!"
That would not have been a pleasant announcement to the captain of the
`Aurora' at any time, but its unpleasantness was vastly increased by the
fact that it greeted him near the termination of what had been, up to
that point of time, an exceedingly prosperous voyage.
"Are you sure, Davis?" asked the captain; "try again."
He gave the order under the influence of that feeling which is styled
"hoping against hope," and himself accompanied the ship's carpenter to
see it obeyed.
"Six feet two inches," was the result of this investigation.
The vessel, a large English brig, had sprung a leak, and was rolling
heavily in a somewhat rough sea off the east coast of Africa. It was no
consolation to her captain that the shores of the great continent were
visible on his lee, because a tremendous surf roared along the whole
line of coast, threatening destruction to any vessel that should venture
to approach, and there was no harbour of refuge nigh.
"She's sinking fast, Mr Seadrift," said the captain to a stout
frank-looking youth of about twenty summers, who leant against the
bulwarks and gazed wistfully at the land; "the carpenter cannot find the
leak, and the rate at which the water is rising shows that she cannot
float long."
"What then do you propose to do?" inquired young Seadrift, with a
troubled expression of countenance.
"Abandon her," replied the captain.
"Well, _you_ may do so, captain, but I shall not forsake my father's
ship as long as she can float. Why not beach her somewhere on the
coast? By so doing we might save part of the cargo, and, at all events,
shall have done the utmost that lay in our power."
"Look at the coast," returned the captain; "where would you beach her?
No doubt there is smooth water inside the reef, but the channels through
it, if there be any here, are so narrow that it would be almost certain
death to make the attempt."
The youth turned away without replying. He was sorely perplexed. Just
before leaving England his father had said to him, "Harold, my boy,
here's your chance for paying a visit to the land you've read and talked
so much about, and wished so often to travel through. I have chartered
a brig, and shall send her out to Zanzibar with a cargo of beads, cotton
cloth, brass wire, and such like: what say you to go as supercargo? Of
course you won't be able to follow in the steps of Livingstone or Mungo
Park, but while the brig is at Zanzibar you will have an opportunity of
running across the channel, the island being only a few miles from the
main, and having a short run up-country to see the niggers, and
perchance have a slap at a hippopotamus. I'll line your pockets, so
that you won't lack the sinews of war, without which travel either at
home or abroad is but sorry work, and I shall only expect you to give a
good account of ship and cargo on your return.--Come, is it fixed?"
Need we say that Harold leaped joyfully at the proposal? And now, here
he was, called on to abandon the `Aurora' to her fate, as we have said,
near the end of a prosperous voyage. No wonder that he was perplexed.
The crew were fully aware of the state of matters. By the captain's
orders they stood ready to lower the two largest boats, into which they
had put much of their worldly goods and provisions as they could hold
with safety.
"Port, port your helm," said the captain to the man at the wheel.
"Port it is, sir," replied the man at the wheel, who was one of those
broad-shouldered, big-chested, loose-garmented, wide-trousered,
bare-necked, free-and-easy, off-hand jovial tars who have done so much,
in years gone by, to increase the wealth and prosperity of the British
Empire, and who, although confessedly scarce, are considerately allowed
to perish in hundreds annually on our shores for want of a little
reasonable legislation. But cheer up, ye jolly tars! There is a
glimmer of sunrise on your political horizon. It really does seem as
if, in regard to you, there were at last "a good time coming."
"Port, port," repeated the captain, with a glance at the compass and the
sky.
"Port it is, sir," again replied the jovial one.
"Steady! Lower away the boat, lads.--Now, Mr Seadrift," said the
captain, turning with an air of decision to the young supercargo, "the
time has come for you to make up your mind. The water is rising in the
hold, and the ship is, as you see, settling fast down. I need not say
to you that it is with the utmost regret I find it necessary to abandon
her; but self-preservation and the duty I owe to my men render the step
absolutely necessary. Do you intend to go with us?"
"No, captain, I don't," replied Harold Seadrift firmly. "I do not blame
you for consulting your own safety, and doing what you believe to be
your duty, but I have already said that I shall stick by the ship as
long as she can float."
"Well, sir, I regret it but you must do as you think best," replied the
captain, turning away--"Now, lads, jump in."
The men obeyed, but several of those who were last to quit the ship
looked back and called to the free-and-easy man who still stood at the
wheel--"Come along, Disco; we'll have to shove off directly."
"Shove off w'en you please," replied the man at the wheel, in a deep
rich voice, whose tones were indicative of a sort of good-humoured
contempt; "wot I means for to do is to stop where I am. It'll never be
said of Disco Lillihammer that he forsook the owner's son in distress."
"But you'll go to the bottom, man, if you don't come."
"Well, wot if I do? I'd raither go to the bottom with a brave man, than
remain at the top with a set o' fine fellers like _you_!"
Some of the men received this reply with a laugh, others frowned, and a
few swore, while some of them looked regretfully at their self-willed
shipmate; for it must not be supposed that _all_ the tars who float upon
the sea are of the bold, candid, open-handed type, though we really
believe that a large proportion of them are so.
Be this as it may, the boats left the brig, and were soon far astern.
"Thank you, Lillihammer," said Harold, going up and grasping the horny
hand of the self-sacrificing sea-dog. "This is very kind of you, though
I fear it may cost you your life. But it is too late to talk of that;
we must fix on some plan, and act at once."
"The werry thing, sir," said Disco quietly, "that wos runnin' in my own
mind, 'cos it's werry clear that we hain't got too many minits to spare
in confabilation."
"Well, what do you suggest?"
"Arter you, sir," said Disco, pulling his forelock; "you are capting
now, an' ought to give orders."
"Then I think the best thing we can do," rejoined Harold, "is to make
straight for the shore, search for an opening in the reef, run through,
and beach the vessel on the sand. What say you?"
"As there's nothin' else left for us to do," replied Disco, "that's
'zactly wot I think too, an' the sooner we does it the better."
"Down with the helm, then," cried Harold, springing forward, "and I'll
ease off the sheets."
In a few minutes the `Aurora' was surging before a stiff breeze towards
the line of foam which indicated the outlying reef, and inside of which
all was comparatively calm.
"If we only manage to get inside," said Harold, "we shall do well."
Disco made no reply. His whole attention was given to steering the
brig, and running his eyes anxiously along the breakers, the sound of
which increased to a thunderous roar as they drew near.
"There seems something like a channel yonder," said Harold, pointing
anxiously to a particular spot in the reef.
"I see it, sir," was the curt reply.
A few minutes more of suspense, and the brig drove into the supposed
channel, and struck with such violence that the foremast snapped off
near the deck, and went over the side.
"God help us, we're lost!" exclaimed Harold, as a towering wave lifted
the vessel up and hurled her like a plaything on the rocks.
"Stand by to jump, sir," cried Disco. Another breaker came roaring in
at the moment, overwhelmed the brig, rolled her over on her beam-ends,
and swept the two men out of her. They struggled gallantly to free
themselves from the wreck, and, succeeding with difficulty, swam across
the sheltered water to the shore, on which they finally landed.
Harold's first exclamation was one of thankfulness for their
deliverance, to which Disco replied with a hearty "Amen!" and then
turning round and surveying the coast, while he slowly thrust his hands
into his wet trouser-pockets, wondered whereabouts in the world they had
got to.
"To the east coast of Africa, to be sure," observed the young
supercargo, with a slight smile, as he wrung the water out of the foot
of his trousers, "the place we were bound for, you know."
"Werry good; so here we are--come to an anchor! Well, I only wish," he
added, sitting down on a piece of driftwood, and rummaging in the
pockets before referred to, as if in search of something--"I only wish
I'd kep' on my weskit, 'cause all my 'baccy's there, and it would be a
rael comfort to have a quid in the circumstances."
It was fortunate for the wrecked voyagers that the set of the current
had carried portions of their vessel to the shore, at a considerable
distance from the spot where they had landed, because a band of natives,
armed with spears and bows and arrows, had watched the wreck from the
neighbouring heights, and had hastened to that part of the coast on
which they knew from experience the cargo would be likely to drift. The
heads of the swimmers being but small specks in the distance, had
escaped observation. Thus they had landed unseen. The spot was near
the entrance to a small river or creek, which was partially concealed by
the formation of the land and by mangrove trees.
Harold was the first to observe that they had not been cast on an
uninhabited shore. While gazing round him, and casting about in his
mind what was best to be done, he heard shouts, and hastening to a rocky
point that hid part of the coast from his view looked cautiously over it
and saw the natives. He beckoned to Disco, who joined him.
"They haven't a friendly look about 'em," observed the seaman, "and
they're summat scant in the matter of clothin'."
"Appearances are often deceptive," returned his companion, "but I so far
agree with you that I think our wisest course will be to retire into the
woods, and there consult as to our future proceedings, for it is quite
certain that as we cannot live on sand and salt water, neither can we
safely sleep in wet clothes or on the bare ground in a climate like
this."
Hastening towards the entrance to the creek, the unfortunate pair
entered the bushes, through which they pushed with some difficulty,
until they gained a spot sufficiently secluded for their purpose, when
they observed that they had passed through a belt of underwood, beyond
which there appeared to be an open space. A few steps further and they
came out on a sort of natural basin formed by the creek, in which
floated a large boat of a peculiar construction, with very
piratical-looking lateen sails. Their astonishment at this unexpected
sight was increased by the fact that on the opposite bank of the creek
there stood several men armed with muskets, which latter were
immediately pointed at their breasts.
The first impulse of the shipwrecked friends was to spring back into the
bushes--the second to advance and hold up their empty hands to show that
they were unarmed.
"Hold on," exclaimed Disco, in a free and easy confidential tone; "we're
friends, we are; shipwrecked mariners we is, so ground arms, my lads,
an' make your minds easy."
One of the men made some remark to another, who, from his Oriental
dress, was easily recognised by Harold as one of the Arab traders of the
coast. His men appeared to be half-castes.
The Arab nodded gravely, and said something which induced his men to
lower their muskets. Then with a wave of his hand he invited the
strangers to come over the creek to him.
This was rendered possible by the breadth of the boat already mentioned
being so great that, while one side touched the right bank of the creek,
the other was within four or five feet of the left.
Without hesitation Harold Seadrift bounded lightly from the bank to the
half-deck of the boat, and, stepping ashore, walked up to the Arab,
closely followed by his companion.
"Do you speak English?" asked Harold.