About six in the evening, my father finding himself extremely

fatigued, wished to rest himself. We allowed the caravan to move on,

while my step-mother and myself remained near him, and the rest of the

family followed with their asses. We all three soon fell asleep. When

we awoke we were astonished at not seeing our companions. The sun was

sinking in the west. We saw several Moors approaching us, mounted on

camels; and my father reproached himself for having slept so long.

Their appearance gave us great uneasiness, and we wished much to

escape from them, but my step-mother and myself fell quite exhausted.

The Moors with long beards having come quite close to us, one of them

alighted and addressed us in the following words. "Be comforted,

ladies; under the costume of an Arab, you see an Englishman who is

desirous of serving you. Having heard at Senegal that Frenchmen were

thrown ashore upon these deserts, I thought my presence might be of

some service to them, as I was acquainted with several of the princes

of this arid country." These noble words from the mouth of a man we

had at first taken to be a Moor, instantly quieted our fears.

Recovering from our fright, we rose and expressed to the philanthropic

Englishman the gratitude we felt. Mr. Carnet, the name of the generous

Briton, told us that our caravan which he had met, waited for us at

about the distance of two leagues. He then gave us some biscuit, which

we eat; and we then set off together to join our companions. Mr.

Carnet wished us to mount his camels, but my step-mother and myself,

being unable to persuade ourselves we could sit securely on their

hairy haunches, continued to walk on the moist sand, whilst my father,

Mr. Carnet and the Moors who accompanied him, proceeded on the camels.

We soon reached a little river, called in the country Marigot des

Maringoins. We wished to drink of it, but found it as salt as the sea.

Mr. Carnet desired us to have patience, and we should find some at the

place where our caravan waited. We forded that river knee deep.

At last, having walked about an hour, we rejoined our companions, who

had found several wells of fresh water. It was resolved to pass the

night in this place, which seemed less arid than any we saw near us.

The soldiers, being requested to go and seek wood to light a fire, for

the purpose of frightening the ferocious beasts which were heard

roaring around us, refused; but Mr. Carnet assured us, that the Moors

who were with him knew well how to keep all such intruders from our

camp. In truth, during the whole of the night these good Arabs

promenaded round our caravan, uttering cries at intervals like those

we had heard in the camp of the generous Amet.

We passed a very good night, and at four in the morning continued our

route along the shore, Mr. Carnet left us to endeavor to procure some

provisions. Till then our asses had been quite docile; but, annoyed

with their riders so long upon their backs, they refused to go

forward. A fit took possession of them, and all at the same instant

threw their riders on the ground, or among the bushes. The Moors,

however, who accompanied us, assisted to catch our capricious animals,

who had nearly scampered off, and replaced us on the hard backs of

these headstrong creatures. At noon the heat became so violent, that

even the Moors themselves bore it with difficulty. We then determined

on finding some shade behind the high mounds of sand which appeared in

the interior; but how were we to reach them! The sands could not be

hotter. We had been obliged to leave our asses on the shore, for they

would neither advance nor recede. The greater part of us had neither

shoes nor hats; notwithstanding we were obliged to go forward almost a

long league to find a little shade. The heat reflected by the sands of

the Desert could be compared to nothing but the mouth of an oven at

the moment of drawing out the bread; nevertheless, we endured it; but

not without cursing those who had been the occasion of all our

misfortunes. Arrived behind the heights for which we searched, we

stretched ourselves under the Mimos-gommier, (the acacia of the

Desert), several broke branches of the asclepia (swallow-wort), and

made themselves a shade. But whether from want of air, or the heat of

the ground on which we were seated, we were nearly all suffocated. I

thought my last hour was come. Already my eyes saw nothing but a dark

cloud, when a person of the name of Berner, who was to have been a

smith at Senegal, gave me a boot containing some muddy water, which he

had had the precaution to keep. I seized the elastic vase, and

hastened to swallow the liquid in large draughts.

One of my companions equally tormented with thirst, envious of the

pleasure I seemed to feel, and which I felt effectually, drew the foot

from the boot, and seized it in his turn, but it availed him nothing.

The water which remained was so disgusting, that he could not drink

it, and spilled it on the ground. Captain Begnere, who was present,

judging, by the water which fell, how loathsome must that have been

which I had drank, offered me some crumbs of biscuit, which he had

kept most carefully in his pocket. I chewed that mixture of bread,

dust and tobacco, but I could not swallow it, and gave it all

masticated to one of my young brothers, who had fallen from

inanimation.

We were about to quit this furnace, when we saw our generous

Englishman approaching, who brought us provisions.--At this sight I

felt my strength revive, and ceased to desire death, which I had

before called on to release me from my sufferings. Several Moors

accompanied Mr. Carnet, and every one was loaded. On their arrival we

had water, with rice and dried fish in abundance. Every one drank his

allowance of water, but had not ability to eat, although the rice was

excellent. We were all anxious to return to the sea, that we might

bathe ourselves, and the caravan put itself on the road to the

breakers of Sahara. After an hour's march of great suffering, we

regained the shore, as well as our asses, who were lying in the water.

We rushed among the waves, and after a bath of half an hour, we

reposed ourselves upon the beach. My cousin and I went to stretch

ourselves upon a small rising ground, where we were shaded with some

old clothes which we had with us. My cousin was clad in an officer's

uniform, the lace of which strongly attracted the eyes of Mr. Carnet's

Moors. Scarcely had we lain down, when one of them, thinking we were

asleep, came to endeavor to steal it; but seeing we were awake,

contented himself by looking at us very steadily.

About three in the morning, a northwest wind having sprang up and a

little refreshed us, our caravan continued its route; our generous

Englishman again taking the task of procuring us provisions. At four

o'clock the sky became overcast, and we heard thunder in the distance.

We all expected a great tempest, which happily did not take

place.--Near seven we reached the spot where we were to wait for Mr.

Carnet, who came to us with a bullock he had purchased. Then quitting

the shore, we went into the interior to seek a place to cook our

supper. We fixed our camp beside a small wood of acacias, near to

which were several wells or cisterns of fresh water. Our ox was

instantly killed, skinned, cut to pieces and distributed. A huge fire

was kindled, and each was occupied in dressing his meal. At this time

I caught a smart fever; notwithstanding I could not help laughing at

seeing every one seated round a large fire holding his piece of beef

on the point of his bayonet, a sabre or some sharp-pointed stick. The

flickering of the flames on the different faces, sun-burned and

covered with long beards, rendered more visible by the darkness of the

night, joined to the noise of the waves and the roaring of ferocious

beasts, which we heard in the distance, presented a spectacle at once

laughable and imposing.

While these thoughts were passing across my mind, sleep overpowered my

senses. Being awakened in the middle of the night, I found my portion

of beef in the shoes which an old sailor had lent me for walking among

the thorns; although it was a little burned and smelt strongly of the

dish in which it was contained, I eat a good part of it, and gave the

rest to my friend the sailor. That seaman, seeing I was ill, offered

to exchange my meat for some which he had had the address to boil in a

small tin-box. I prayed him to give me a little water if he had any,

and he instantly went and fetched me some in his hat. My thirst was so

great that I drank it out of his nasty hat without any repugnance.

At nine o'clock we met upon the shore a large flock herded by young

Moors. These shepherds sold us milk, and one of them offered to lend

my father an ass for a knife which he had seen him take out of his

pocket. My father having accepted the proposal, the Moor left his

companion to accompany us as far as Senegal, from which we were yet

two good leagues.

Suddenly we left the shore. Our companions appearing quite transported

with joy, some of us ran forward, and having gained a slight rising

ground, discovered the Senegal at no great distance.

We hastened our march, and for the first time since our shipwreck, a

smiling picture presented itself to our view.--The trees always green,

with which that noble river is shaded, the humming birds, the red

birds, the paroquets, the promerops, &c. who flitted among their long

yielding branches, caused in us emotions difficult to express. We

could not satiate our eyes with gazing on the beauties of this place,

verdure being so enchanting to the sight, especially after having

travelled through the Desert. Before reaching the river we had to

descend a little hill covered with thorny bushes. My ass stumbling

threw me into the midst of one, and I tore myself in several places,

but was easily consoled when I at length found myself on the banks of

a river of fresh water. Every one having quenched his thirst, we

stretched ourselves under the shade of a small grove, while the

beneficent Mr. Carnet and two of our officers set forward to Senegal

to announce our arrival, and to get us boats. In the meanwhile some

took a little repose, and others were engaged in dressing the wounds

with which they were covered.

At two in the afternoon, we saw a small boat beating against the

current of the stream with oars. It soon reached the spot where we

were. Two Europeans landed, saluted our caravans, and inquired for my

father. One of them said he came on the part of MM. Artigue and

Laboure, inhabitants of Senegal, to offer assistance to our family;

the other added, that he had not waited for the boats which were

getting ready for us at the island of St. Louis, knowing too well what

would be our need. We were desirous of thanking them, but they

instantly ran off to the boat and brought us provisions, which my

father's old friends had sent him.--They placed before us a large

basket containing several loaves, cheese, a bottle of Madeira, a

bottle of filtered water and dresses for my father. Every one, who,

during our journey, had taken any interest in our unfortunate family,

and especially the brave Captain Begnere, had a share of our

provisions. We experienced a real satisfaction in partaking with them,

and giving them this small mark of our gratitude.

A young aspirant of marine, who had refused us a glass of water in the

Desert, pressed with hunger, begged of us some bread; he got it, also

a small glass of Madeira.

It was four o'clock before the boats of the government arrived, and we

all embarked. Biscuit and wine were found in each of them, and all

were refreshed.

That in which were our family was commanded by M. Artigue, captain of

the port, and one of those who had sent us provisions. My father and

he embraced as two old friends who had not seen one another for eight

years, and congratulated themselves that they had been permitted to

meet once more before they died. We had already made a league upon the

river when a young navy clerk (M. Mollien) was suddenly taken ill. We

put him ashore, and left him to the care of a negro to conduct him to

Senegal when he should recover.

It would be in vain for me to paint the various emotions of my mind at

that delicious moment. I am bold to say all the colony, if we accept

MM. Schmaltz and Lachaumareys, were at the port to receive us from our

boats. M. Artigue going on shore first to acquaint the English

governor of our arrival, met him coming to us on horseback, followed

by our generous conductor Mr. Carnet, and several superior

officers.--We went on shore carrying our brothers and sisters in our

arms. My father presented us to the English governor, who had

alighted; he appeared to be sensibly affected with our misfortunes,

the females and children chiefly excited his commiseration. And the

native inhabitants and Europeans tenderly shook the hands of the

unfortunate people; the negro slaves even seemed to deplore our

disastrous fate.

The governor placed the most sickly of our companions in a hospital;

various inhabitants of the colony received others into their houses;

M. Artigue obligingly took charge of our family. Arriving at his house

we there found his wife, two ladies and an English lady, who begged to

be allowed to assist us. Taking my sister Caroline and myself, she

conducted us to her house, and presented us to her husband, who

received us in the most affable manner; after which she led us to her

dressing-room, where we were combed, cleansed, and dressed by the

domestic negresses, and were most obligingly furnished with linen from

her own wardrobe, the whiteness of which was strongly contrasted with

our sable countenances. In the midst of my misfortunes my soul had

preserved all its strength; but this sudden change of situation

affected me so much, that I thought my intellectual faculties were

forsaking me. We were so confused by our agitation, that we scarcely

heard the questions which were put to us, having constantly before our

eyes the foaming waves and the immense tract of sand over which we had

passed.

* * * * *

The following is the substance, abridged from MM.

Correard and Savigny, of what took place on the raft

during thirteen days before the sufferers were taken up

by the Argus Brig.

After the boats had disappeared, the consternation became extreme. All

the horrors of thirst and famine passed before our imagination;

besides, we had to contend with a treacherous element, which already

covered the half of our bodies.--The deep stupor of the soldiers and

sailors instantly changed to despair. All saw their inevitable

destruction, and expressed by their moans the dark thoughts which

brooded in their minds. Our words were at first unavailing to quiet

their fears, which we participated with them, but which a greater

strength of mind enabled us to dissemble. At last an unmoved

countenance, and our proffered consolations, quieted them by degrees,

but could not entirely dissipate the terror with which they were

seized.

When tranquility was a little restored, we began to search about the

raft for the charts, the compass, and the anchor, which we presumed

had been placed upon it, after what we had been told at the time of

quitting the frigate.

These things of the first importance, had not been placed upon our

machine. Above all, the want of a compass the most alarmed us, and we

gave vent to our rage and vengeance. M. Correard then remembered he

had seen one in the hands of the principal workmen under his command;

he spoke to the man, who replied, 'Yes, yes, I have it with me.' This

information transported us with joy, and we believed that our safety

depended upon this futile resource; it was about the size of a

crown-piece, and very incorrect. Those who have not been in situations

in which their existence was exposed to extreme peril, can have but a

faint knowledge of the price one attaches then to the simplest

objects--with what avidity one seizes the slightest means capable of

mitigating the rigor of that fate against which they contend. The

compass was given to the commander of the raft, but an accident

deprived us of it forever; it fell and disappeared between the pieces

of wood which formed our machine. We had kept it but a few hours, and,

after its loss, had nothing to guide us but the rising and setting of

the sun.

We had all gone afloat without taking any food. Hunger beginning to be

imperiously felt, we mixed our paste of sea-biscuit with a little

wine, and distributed it thus prepared.--Such was our first meal, and

the best we had, during our stay upon the raft.

An order, according to our numbers, was established for the

distribution of our miserable provisions. The ration of wine was fixed

at three quarters a day. We will speak no more of the biscuit, it

having been entirely consumed at the first distribution. The day

passed away sufficiently tranquil. We talked of the means by which we

would save ourselves; we spoke of it as a certain circumstance, which

reanimated our courage; and we sustained that of the soldiers, by

cherishing in them the hope of being able, in a short time, to revenge

themselves on those who had abandoned us. This hope of vengeance, it

must be avowed, equally animated us all; and we poured out a thousand

imprecations against those who had left us a prey to so much misery

and danger.

The officer who commanded the raft being unable to move, M. Savigny

took upon himself the duty of erecting the mast. He caused them to cut

in two one of the poles of the frigate's masts, and fixed it with the

rope which had served to tow us, and of which we made stays and

shrouds. It was placed on the anterior third of the raft. We put up

for a sail the main-top-gallant, which trimmed very well, but was of

very little use, except when the wind served from behind; and to keep

the raft in this course, we were obliged to trim the sail as if the

breeze blew athwart us.

In the evening, our hearts and our prayers, by a feeling natural to

the unfortunate, were turned towards Heaven.--Surrounded by inevitable

dangers, we addressed that invisible Being who has established, and

who maintains the order of the universe. Our vows were fervent, and we

experienced from our prayers the cheering influence of hope. It is

necessary to have been in similar situations, before one can rightly

imagine what a charm is the sublime idea of a God protecting the

unfortunate to the heart of the sufferer.

One consoling thought still soothed our imaginations. We persuaded

ourselves that the little divisions had gone to the isle of Arguin,

and that after it had set a part of its people on shore, the rest

would return to our assistance; we endeavored to impress this idea on

our soldiers and sailors, which quieted them. The night came without

our hope being realized; the wind freshened, and the sea was

considerably swelled. What a horrible night! The thought of seeing the

boats on the morrow, a little consoled our men, the greater part of

whom, being unaccustomed to the sea, fell on one another at each

movement of the raft. M. Savigny, seconded by some people who still

preserved their presence of mind amidst the disorder, stretched cords

across the raft, by which the men held, and were better able to resist

the swell of the sea; some were even obliged to fasten themselves. In

the middle of the night the weather was very rough; huge waves burst

upon us, sometimes overturning us with great violence. The cries of

the men, mingled with the flood, whilst the terrible sea raised us at

every instant from the raft, and threatened to sweep us away. This

scene was rendered still more terrible, by the horrors inspired by the

darkness of the night. Suddenly we believed we saw fires in the

distance at intervals.

We had had the precaution to hang at the top of the mast, the

gunpowder and pistols which we had brought from the frigate. We made

signals by burning a large quantity of cartridges; we even fired some

pistols, but it seems the fire we saw, was nothing but an error of

vision, or, perhaps, nothing more than the sparkling of the waves.

We struggled with death during the whole of the night, holding firmly

by the ropes which were made very secure.--Tossed by the waves from

the back to the front, and from the front to the back, and sometimes

precipitated into the sea; floating between life and death, mourning

our misfortunes, certain of perishing; we disputed, nevertheless, the

remainder of our existence, with that cruel element which threatened

to engulf us. Such was our condition till daybreak. At every instant

were heard the lamentable cries of the soldiers and sailors; they

prepared for death, bidding farewell to one another, imploring the

protection of Heaven, and addressing fervent prayers to God. Every one

made vows to him, in spite of the certainty of never being able to

accomplish them. Frightful situation! How is it possible to have any

idea of it, which will not fall far short of the reality!

Towards seven in the morning the sea fell a little, the wind blew with

less fury; but what a scene presented itself to our view! Ten or

twelve unfortunates, having their inferior extremities fixed in the

openings between the pieces of the raft, had perished by being unable

to disengage themselves; several others were swept away by the

violence of the sea. At the hour of repast, we took the numbers anew;

we had lost twenty men. We will not affirm that this was the exact

number; for we perceived some soldiers who, to have more than their

share, took rations for two, and even three; we were so huddled

together that we found it absolutely impossible to prevent this abuse.

In the midst of these horrors a touching scene of filial piety drew

our tears. Two young men raised and recognized their father, who had

fallen, and was lying insensible among the feet of the people. They

believed him at first dead, and their despair was expressed in the

most affecting manner. It was perceived, however, that he still

breathed, and every assistance was rendered for his recovery in our

power. He slowly revived, and was restored to life, and to the

prayers of his sons, who supported him closely folded in their

arms.--Whilst our hearts were softened by this affecting episode in

our melancholy adventures, we had soon to witness the sad spectacle of

a dark contrast. Two ship-boys and a baker feared not to seek death,

and threw themselves into the sea, after having bid farewell to their

companions in misfortune. Already the minds of our people were

singularly altered; some believed that they saw land, others ships

which were coming to save us; all talked aloud of their fallacious

visions.

We lamented the loss of our unfortunate companions. At this moment we

were far from anticipating the still more terrible scene which took

place on the following night; far from that, we enjoyed a positive

satisfaction so well were we persuaded that the boats would return to

our assistance. The day was fine, and the most perfect tranquility

reigned all the while on our raft. The evening came and no boats

appeared. Despondency began again to seize our men, and then a spirit

of insubordination manifested itself in cries of rage. The voice of

the officers was entirely disregarded. Night fell rapidly in, the sky

was obscured by dark clouds; the wind which, during the whole day, had

blown rather violently, became furious and swelled the sea, which in

an instant became very rough.

Thrilling Narratives of Mutiny, Murder and Piracy A weird series of tales of shipwreck and disaster, from the earliest part of the century to the present time, with accounts of providential escapes and heart-rending fatalities. · 第 11 / 32 段