A FRIGHTFUL ENCOUNTER WITH SHARKS--A CHASE, AND AN ESCAPE--LAND!
LAND!--BREAKERS AHEAD.
I was aroused by a cry from one of my companions; and, sitting up, I saw
a small raft with four men on it approaching from the direction of the
large one. I at once knew that it must have been formed by them during
the night, for the purpose of trying to overtake us. The men were
urging it on with frantic efforts, evidently resolved to board us; so we
got out our oars, and began to row away to keep ahead of them. Day was
just breaking. They probably had wished to surprise us during the
darkness of night, but had been unable to finish their raft in time. We
were, it must be understood, to the eastward of them, and a somewhat
stiffish breeze had just got up, blowing from off the shore, which,
although the water remained pretty calm, impeded our progress,--for our
raft, though strongly put together, and able to contend with a heavy
sea, was deep in the water, and could not be impelled by rowing at much
speed. If overtaken, we must expect, we knew, a fearful struggle; for
though we outnumbered those who were approaching, four desperate men,
all armed, might overpower us, as we possessed no missiles, not even a
boarding-pike or boat-hook with which to drive them off--nor could we
prevent them from getting alongside, or commencing the fight till their
feet were actually on our raft.
On they came, uttering fearful oaths. "They have probably attacked the
spirit-cask, and in their drunken fury are indifferent to consequences,"
observed Boxall. "It will be madness to show them the slightest mercy
if they get up with us."
While we rowed away with all our might, I could not help frequently
turning my head to watch their progress. They had, I should have said,
stepped a mast on their raft, but had no sail; indeed, they could not
have used it had they possessed one. This was another sign of the haste
in which they must have embarked. Their raft was also, it was evident,
carelessly put together; and as it drew nearer we saw that the men could
with difficulty keep their feet on it--for the wind by this time having
caused the sea to get up slightly, it rocked from side to side.
They were within half a cable's length of us, when the feet of one of
the men slipped, and overboard he fell. His companions, not seeing him,
continued to row on. He shrieked to them to stop; the man next to him
was stooping down, holding out his hands to haul him in, when suddenly
he too was drawn into the water. Piercing cries sounded in our ears.
"See, see," exclaimed Ben; "the sharks have got them!" In an instant
they had disappeared, while their companions looked on horror-struck.
The next moment a huge shark rose to the surface. One of the men struck
it with his oar, which was immediately torn from his grasp; and directly
afterwards another shark darted at him. He seized his axe, and, holding
on to the mast, attempted to defend himself, while the remaining man
continued to row as desperately as before. We would gladly even then
have saved the wretched men, but we were unable to do anything to help
them. There must have been half-a-dozen sharks or more surrounding the
raft, one after the other attacking the frail structure, and threatening
every instant to capsize it. In vain the man on the fore-part of the
raft attempted to turn it round; again and again the savage creatures
assailed it; and at length one, more ferocious than its companions,
threw itself upon the raft, and over it went--the two unhappy beings
instantly becoming the prey of the monsters.
We turned our eyes away from the sight, not without a dread that we
might ere long be attacked in the same way. We had, however, the
advantage of a strong raft, considerably higher out of the water than
the other; and thus we had less reason to fear that the sharks would
succeed in upsetting it.
"It serves the fellows right," observed Ben; "though, villains as they
were, I could have wished them a better fate."
Wearied with our exertions, and as there was no immediate necessity for
rowing--seeing we could not hope to reach the shore until a breeze got
up in our favour--we put in our oars to rest.
"Of course, Mr Boxall, you will take command of the raft," said Ben,
touching his hat; "and maybe you will think fit to pipe to breakfast,
as, I dare say, Mr Blore and Mr Halliday are getting hungry again."
"That I will, very gladly," said Boxall; "and I will try, at all events,
to do my best for all hands."
"Hungry! I should think I am," exclaimed Halliday.
We had some more fish, with some biscuit,--which, though soaked in salt
water, afforded nourishment. The fish we could eat raw better than some
salt pork which Ben told me he had on board. Although our food was not
palatable, we had not much apprehension of starving. We were chiefly
anxious about water, of which our supply was very small; and we could
not help being struck by Ben's fidelity in coming to look for us,
knowing, as he must, that we should consume so much of the precious
liquid, which was little more than sufficient for himself and his
companion.
The day wore on, and still no breeze got up. "I wish that we had had an
oar apiece, as we might then have had better hopes of making progress
with the raft towards the shore," I observed. Halliday, however,
declared that he thought we were pretty well off as we were,--as it
would be a pity to exert ourselves, and to find that after all it was of
no use; for a strong breeze from the shore would send us back in an hour
the distance we had made good during a day's labour.
"Still, if every day we make some progress, when the breeze does come
from the westward we shall be so much nearer the shore," observed
Boxall. "Therefore we ought, while we have strength, to do our best to
urge on our raft."
Though we were all agreed as to the wisdom of this, yet the sun came
down with such strength on our heads that we had little inclination to
exert ourselves. We had also hopes that, when the breeze did get up, a
sail might come near us. This, perhaps, made us exert ourselves less
than we should otherwise have done.
The large raft, I should have said, was still in sight; and, looking
through my telescope, I could see the people moving about on it,--
though, as far as I could judge, there were fewer than there had been
when we left it. What had become of the others? Too probably many had
been killed by the ruffianly mutineers; and some, having succumbed to
hunger and thirst, had been thrown overboard.
As the day wore on, we could not help acknowledging that we felt weaker
than we had been, while a strong inclination to sleep overpowered us.
So, while we waited anxiously for a breeze, we spent some hours sleeping
under the sail,--persuading ourselves that we should be better able to
row during the cool hours of night, when we determined to set manfully
to work.
I may venture to say, though I have not before taken notice of it, that
a feeling of compassion made us unwilling to desert altogether the
unfortunate people still on the raft until, for our own safety, we were
compelled to do so. Before long, it was but too probable, their numbers
would be greatly diminished. Already six of the mutineers had lost
their lives, and their fate would, we hoped, be a warning to the others;
perhaps, too, the better disposed people might gain the upper hand.
"Whether we can venture to take them off now, is a question," observed
Boxall; "but we may possibly be able to reach the shore and gain
assistance for them: and it would certainly tend to prevent them giving
way to despair, could we, before we leave the neighbourhood, tell them
of our intentions."
Halliday and I acquiesced in this; Ben was doubtful.
"After the spirit they have shown, I am afraid it would be of no use,
sir," he observed. "They are not to be dealt with like Englishmen; and
if we go near them, they will only try to get hold of our raft. I will
ask Jose what he thinks."
The Spaniard shook his head. "They will not believe us, senor," he
answered. "Our officers having deserted them, they will not believe
that a party of foreigners can intend to treat them with better faith.
As they have killed my poor brother, one of the best of men, so they
will try to kill us."
I could not help thinking that there was much force in what Jose said;
still, until a breeze should get up, we agreed to remain where we were.
Another day came to a close. Occasionally we could see the triangular
fins of sharks gliding round the raft, their wicked eyes turned up
towards us; but they made no attempt to attack us. After supper we
again held a discussion as to what was best to be done. At last
compassion gained the day, and we agreed to approach the large raft
sufficiently near to hail the people, and to tell them that we would, if
possible, send them assistance.
"You will do so at great risk," said Jose. "I warn you of that; but, at
the same time, I will not be the one to oppose your kind intentions
towards my countrymen."
We accordingly took our oars and began slowly to approach the large
raft. As we drew near, we could hear the voices of the people on it;
some shouting in hoarse tones, others shrieking and crying out, as if
imploring mercy.
"It is useless to go on, senors," said Jose. "They will not listen to
reason."
Still, impelled by a feeling superadded to that of the compassion which
chiefly influenced us, and for which I can scarcely now account,--
resembling that which is said to induce birds or other animals to hurry
forward into the open mouth of the serpent,--we continued to row towards
the fatal raft. Perhaps, too, Boxall, who was the person to order us to
stop, still hoped that our presence, and the promise we were about to
give, might induce the people to remain quiet till assistance could
reach them.
At length we got near enough to hail; but it was some time before we
could make our voices heard, or the uproar ceased. I desired Jose to
tell them what we intended doing.
"Come nearer, come nearer," was the answer. "Give us a little water and
a little food; and if you will take two of our number,--only two,--who
are suffering greatly, it will show us that you are in earnest, and that
you wish to save our lives."
"Don't trust them, don't trust them, senor," cried Jose, in an agony of
fear. "They don't mean what they say. If once we get within their
power, they will detain us."
I told Boxall what Jose said. He still hesitated, however. Just then I
felt the wind fan my cheek.
"Here comes a breeze from the westward," shouted Ben.
"We have given our message," I observed to Boxall; "and I cannot help
thinking that Jose is right. We must not forget the sample they have
given us of their feelings."
"I am afraid it must be so," said Boxall with a sigh. "For our own
safety, we must make for the shore without further delay. Hoist the
sail, Ben. I will take the steering-oar; Jose can manage the bow oar;
and you, Halliday, and Charlie can tend the halyards and sheet."
We assisted Ben to hoist the sail, which was somewhat large for the
raft, except under a very light wind. Before the sail was set, however,
the breeze had greatly increased, and scarcely had we brought the sheet
aft when over went the mast, carried off at the heel. We of course set
to work to get in the sail, while Ben, with an axe, endeavoured to cut
out the broken heel from the step, in which he had fixed it. This took
some time, as the raft was rocking about far more than it had hitherto
done, and he could not work quickly in the darkness. Having at length
succeeded, he had next to chop the heel of the mast to the proper size
to fit the step. He was working away as rapidly as possible, and we
were stooping down to assist him, when Jose shouted out, "They are
coming, they are coming!" Looking round, we observed that the sail of
the big raft was hoisted, and that she was coming towards us faster than
we should have supposed it was possible for her to move. In little more
than a minute she might be up with us; while the wild shouts and
execrations of the miscreants who were on the raft rang in our ears, and
showed us what he had to expect from them.
Ben worked away as composedly but as rapidly as he could, while we were
engaged in taking a reef in the sail.
"It's done," cried Ben at last; and lifting the mast, we found, to our
great satisfaction, that the heel fitted into the step. We immediately
set up four stays.
"Be smart now," cried Boxall. "Hoist away with the sail."
He had good reason to give the order, for, as we looked round, we saw
the head of the big raft with several people on it, some rowing to give
it more impetus, while one stood with a boat-hook ready to catch hold of
us. In another instant the fellow might have hooked on, or have run the
point of it into the back of Boxall, who had again resumed the
steering-oar; but, hoisting away with all our might, we got the sail up,
and while Ben was making fast the halyards Halliday and I carried the
sheet aft.
Over the now foaming sea we flew, while the big raft followed close
astern,--those on it uttering the most fearful oaths and execrations as
they found themselves disappointed in their project of seizing us. Our
light raft went over the water far more rapidly than theirs, and we soon
distanced them; but for long their shrieks and cries sounded in our
ears.
"I thought, sir, that they intended treachery," observed Jose to me;
"and we may be thankful that we escaped them." I agreed with him; at
the same time, having escaped, we had the satisfactory reflection that
we would have done our best to have rendered them assistance, and that
we could not blame ourselves for deserting our fellow-creatures. What
would now be their fate, it was not difficult to say. They might
possibly reach the shore; but the large raft, hurriedly put together,
was but ill calculated to resist the now fast rising sea, and we could
not but fear that many of the unfortunate wretches would speedily be
washed off it. Our little raft was tolerably strong, but the way the
pieces of which it was constructed worked, gave us a notion what would
be the fate of theirs.
We were tossed fearfully about, and had to run now to one side, now to
the other, to balance it as it was lifted by the seas. Boxall kept his
seat on a cask, endeavouring to steer it, but he had at length to call
me to his assistance, while Ben helped Jose. On and on we flew. As the
clouds gathered in the sky the night grew darker and darker, and we soon
lost sight of the large raft, while the voices of those on it no longer
reached our ears. I asked Boxall what he thought would happen to the
miserable people.
"Too probably they have been washed off the raft, or it has been
capsized, by this time," he answered. "I confess, I do not like to
think of what must have been their fate."
Our thoughts were now turned towards what might happen to ourselves. We
had no means of judging how far off we were from the coast, but I
calculated that, as we had not seen it, we could not be within fifteen
miles or so of it--an opinion which I expressed to Boxall.
"You forget that, low down as we are in the water, our horizon is very
circumscribed; while for miles together, on this part of the African
coast, the sandy shore rises but a few feet above the level of the sea,"
he answered. "It may therefore be much nearer, than we suppose. We
must, at all events, keep a good look-out; although, with the wind
blowing strong, and running as we are directly before it, we shall have
no choice where to land, and shall have to make good our footing on the
dry land as best we can."
We were silent for some time; indeed, we had enough to do to steer the
raft.
"Keep a bright look-out, Ben," cried Boxall. "Do you see anything of
the land?"
"No, sir," answered Ben, somewhat surprised; for he supposed, as I had
done, that we were still a long way off. "I don't expect to see it for
the next three or four hours."
"We may reach it sooner than you fancy," said Boxall.
"Very glad to hear that, sir," answered Ben; "for though I am very well
satisfied with this craft of ours, I would sooner feel my feet on dry
land than aboard of her, if it should come on to blow much harder than
it does now."
I suspect we all felt as Ben did. The sea was fast rising, and as the
foaming crests of the tumbling waves came hissing over the raft, we had
to hold on tightly to avoid being carried away. But our chief anxiety
was about our mast. Should that give way, the raft would be left
tossing helplessly amid the seas, and in all probability be washed off.
We had, however, stayed it up securely, and we could only hope that it
would hold.