I awoke in the morning feeling but poorly rested, and having assimilated
an indifferent breakfast, which however was quite passable after four
weeks of ship fare, set out to interview the manager of the local branch
of the Standard Bank. I was business man enough to feel misgivings as
to any success attending the object of my interview, and so far was
justified by results. The manager--a youngish man, and the usual
Scotchman--listened to my story politely enough--sympathetically too.
But when it came to hard business, opening an account pending the time I
could communicate with my own bankers, the difficulty began. He did not
exactly disbelieve my story: my proposal to bring forward Captain
Morrissey in corroboration went far against that. But then how could
Captain Morrissey vouch as to my means? On my own showing he could by
no possibility do so, and indeed to no one, in view of my business
experience as aforesaid, did such an argument more fully appeal than to
myself. As to reference home, why, England in those days was over three
weeks distant, otherwise seven or eight before an answer could be had.
Didn't I know any one locally who could vouch for me? Of course I
didn't--considering the circumstances under which I had found myself
here. Well, he was exceedingly sorry he could not accommodate me--on
his own responsibility. He would, however, refer the matter to the
general manager, and would then be only too happy, etc., etc. And so I
was very politely bowed out.
Well, I couldn't blame him. Business is business, and I might have been
just the predatory adventurer he had no proof I was not. But for all
that I went out feeling very disconsolate. My seven pounds nine and a
halfpenny wouldn't last long, and I had already begun to bore into it.
What was I to do next--yes--what the devil was I to do next?
I thought I would cross the river for one thing, and take a walk along
the shore on the other side. I believe I had a sort of foolish idea
that the mere sight of the _Kittiwake_ lying close in at anchor,
constituted a kind of link between other times and my homeless and
friendless condition on this strange and far away shore; and some
thoughts of shipping on board her as an able seaman, and so working my
passage round home, even entered my head. Anyway, I crossed over on the
pontoon, and walking along the bush road which skirted the east bank, at
length came out upon the green slope which stretches down to the sandy
beach within the bight of the roadstead.
The vessels were riding to their anchorage, and the rattle of swinging
out cargo, and the yells and chatter of Kafirs working the surf boats,
was borne across the water. The bar had gone down considerably since
the previous day, yet there was still some surf on, and it came
thundering up the beach, all milky and blue in the radiance of the
unclouded sun--which said sun began to wax uncommonly warm, by the same
token. However, the voyage had inured me to tropical heat, which this
wasn't; wherefore I sat down to take a rest, and smoke a pipe.
Now as I sat there, moodily gazing out to seaward, an object caught my
eye. It was beyond the further line of surf, and it looked uncommonly
like the head of something swimming. Yet, who would be fool enough to
swim out beyond that line of rollers, with their powerful and dangerous
undertow? Besides, I had heard that sharks were plentiful on that
coast.
I stared at the thing as it rose on the summit of a long wave. Yes, it
was a head, and--great heaven! it was the head of a child; the sunlight
falling full upon a little white face, and just a glimpse of gold as it
touched the head, revealed that much beyond a doubt. And, as though to
add to the mystery of the situation, a cry rang out over the roar of the
breakers, which sounded most startlingly like a cry for help.
I was on my feet in a moment. Not a soul was in sight along the shore.
In less than another moment I had thrown off my coat and kicked off my
boots, and as I dashed into the surf another cry came pealing through
the roar--this time more urgent, more piteous than before. I shouted in
encouragement and then it required all my strength and experience in the
water to get through that hell of boiling breakers, and avoid being
rolled and pounded and thrown ignominiously back half drowned. Were it
not indeed that I am a strong swimmer, and, what is better still,
thoroughly at home in the water, such is precisely what would have
happened.
A horrible fear came upon me as I got beyond the broken line. Was I too
late? Then the object of my search rose upon the wave within a few
yards of me.
It was, as I had thought, the face of a child--of a pretty little girl
of twelve or thirteen. She wore a blue bathing dress, which allowed
plenty of freedom for swimming, and her golden-brown hair was gathered
in a thick plait. But in the large blue eyes was a look of terror, a
kind of haunted look.
"Here, you're all right now," I shouted as I reached her. "Don't be
scared. Lean on me, and rest. Then we'll swim in together. Hold on to
my shoulder now. That's right."