"We've done wrong, Van. There'll be a jolly row about it."
"Get out! What's the good of talking now? You were as ready to have
him as I was. Lie still, will you? or I'll pitch you overboard."
Two middies talking in the stern-sheets of the cutter belonging to Her
Majesty's fast little cruiser _Nautilus_, stationed on the west coast of
Africa "blackberrying," so the men called their duty, Tom Fillot, one of
their jokers, giving as the reason that the job was "black and berry
nasty." The sun shone as it can shine in the neighbourhood of the
equator, and the sea looked like so much glistening oil, as it slowly
heaved up and sank with the long ground swell, the light flashing from
the surface attacking the eyes with blinding power, bronzing the faces
of some, peeling the noses of others.
Setting aside the smart crew of the cutter in their white duck shirts
and trousers and straw hats, with faces, necks, and hands of a mahogany
brown, the two speakers may be taken as fair samples of what the sun
could do with a fresh-coloured English lad of sixteen or seventeen.
Mark Vandean, who leaned back and had wrenched himself round to sharply
adjure something behind him in the bottom of the boat, was burned of a
good warm Russian leather brown, while his companion, Bob Howlett, who
held the rudder-lines, displayed in addition to ruddy brown cheeks a
nose in a most disreputable state of rag.
The boat went swiftly through the water, as the men bent with regular
stroke, and made the tough ash blades of their oars curve ere they rose
and scattered the flashing drops, which seemed to brighten the scene
where all was flat and monotonous, and the view contracted by a dead
silvery haze of heat. Behind them was the low flat shore with a few
scattered white houses and factories behind a rough landing-stage.
There were palms of different kinds in a straggling line, and on either
side of the opening out of a muddy river, a bordering of dingy green
mangroves--tree cripples, Mark Vandean called them, because they all
looked as if standing up on crutches. A few boats lay in the mouth of
the river, a dissolute-looking brig with its yards unsquared was at
anchor higher up, and a sharp eye could detect a figure or two about the
beach. On either side, as far as eye could reach, there was a line of
surf.
That was all shoreward, while out to sea, a couple of miles or so away,
smart and business-like, with her tall spars and carefully squared yards
and rigging, cobweb-like in texture at that distance, lay at anchor in
the open road-stead HMS _Nautilus_ waiting to gather "blackberries" at
the first opportunity, and toward which smart little vessel the cutter
was being steadily propelled.
The object ordered to lie still under pain of being pitched overboard
did not lie, but crouched a little lower, and increased the wrinkles in
its deeply lined forehead, above which was a thin fringe of hair,
blinked its wondering eyes, and looked piteously at the speaker.
It was the face of an old man with enormous mouth pinched together, and
devoid of lips, but giving the idea that it was about to smile; nose
there was none, save a little puckering in its place, but as if to make
up for the want, the ears were largely developed, rounded, and stood out
on either side in a pronounced fashion. For it was the most human of
all the apes, being a chimpanzee about as big as a sturdy two-year-old
boy.
All at once the stroke oarsman ceased rowing, and began to wipe the
perspiration from his open, good-humoured face.
"Hullo!" shouted one of the middies, "what's that mean? Why are you not
pulling?"
"Beg pardon, sir; won't be none of me left to," said the man, "I'm
trickling all away. Like to put the new hand in my place?"
"New hand?" said the other middy; "what do you mean?"
"Gent as you have behind you there."
Mark Vandean frowned, and drew himself up, tried to look severe as an
officer, but he was confronted by five grinning faces, and the mirth was
contagious; he smiled at the idea, and the men roared.
"There, pull away, my lads, and let's get on board. This is no time for
skylarking."
The men bent to their oars again, and the boat answered to its name,
cutting swiftly through the water towards the little man-o'-war.
"But there will be a row about it, old fellow," whispered Bob Howlett.
"Oh, very well then, they must row," said Mark Vandean pettishly.
"There's no harm in having a monkey onboard--if we can get it there."
"Don't you be uneasy about that, Mr Vandean, sir," said the stroke
oarsman; "me and my mates'll smuggle the young nigger gent aboard
somehow, even if I has to lend him my duds."
"You leave off cutting jokes, Tom Fillot, and pull hard."
"Ay, ay, sir," cried the man, chuckling, and he and his fellows made the
boat skim through the glowing water.
"Perhaps the letter is important," said the first middy, "and may mean
business at last."
"I hope not," said the other. "I'm sick of it. Nothing but wild-goose
chases after phantom ships. I don't believe there are any slavers on
the coast."
"Oh, aren't there, Bob?"
"Don't seem like it. Where are they, then; and why don't we catch 'em?"
"I dunno."
"Fancy going off again to-night sneaking down to another of these rivers
all among the mosquitoes and fever mists. Ugh! If I'd known, you
wouldn't have caught me coming to sea."
"Oh, we shall catch one of 'em yet. A big Yankee schooner full of
slaves; and then look at the prize-money."
"No catchee, no havee, Van. Oh, I say, I am hot. Why, I believe you
could fry eggs in the sun."
"Dare say you might if you could get there, Bob."
"Oh, my! aren't we witty this morning! I say, I wonder what old Staples
will say to the monkey, Van."
"So do I," said the first middy, uneasily. "I half wish we hadn't
bought it. But it seemed such a chance."
"Well, we're in for it now. Staples will give it us pretty sharply, and
then forget all about it."
"But then there's the skipper."
"Ah," said the second middy, thoughtfully; "I forgot about him. Bother
the monkey! Phew! I am hot. I say, they may well call this Oily
Bight. The sea looks just as if it had been greased. Oh, don't I wish
I were in a good wet fog in the Channel. This is a scorcher."
The lads ceased speaking, and sat back watching the anchored vessel and
relieving the tedium of the long row by scratching the monkey's head and
pulling its ears, the animal complacently accepting both operations, and
turning its head about so that every portion should receive its share of
the scratching, till all at once the boat was run alongside, the
coxswain took hold with his boathook, and while the falls were hooked
on, an order was given above, and they were run up to the davits.
Directly after, Mark Vandean stepped on deck, touched his cap to a
severe-looking officer, and presented a letter.
"Take it in to the captain," he said; and Mark marched off to the cabin,
while the first lieutenant, who had turned toward the boat, out of which
the men had sprung, suddenly raised one hand, and pointed at the boat's
side, above which a head had been raised, and its owner was gazing round
with wrinkled forehead as if wondering what was going to happen next.
Bob Howlett saw the first lieutenant's fixed stare and pointing hand,
and glancing round, he caught sight of the head with its chin on the
gunwale.
"Who's that?" cried the first lieutenant, sharply; and the men screwed
up their faces and looked comically solemn on the instant, but no one
spoke.
"Mr Howlett," cried the officer again, "I asked you who that was in the
boat!"
"Beg pardon, sir; didn't know you were speaking to me. Which, sir?"
The lieutenant's lips were compressed as he took a couple of strides and
brought himself alongside of the middy.
"If you are not careful, sir," he said severely, "trouble will follow
this. You did know I spoke to you, sir. I said, `Who is that young
black?' Why, it's an ape."
"Yes, sir; chimpanzee, sir."
"How dare you bring a monkey on board, sir?"
"Only a natural history specimen, sir; and I thought--"
"Oh, there you are, Staples," said the captain, coming up. "Look, I
think this is right at last;" and he handed the letter to his second in
command.
"Looks correct, sir," said the lieutenant, after reading the letter.
"Shall you act upon it?"
"Act upon it, man! Of course."
The monkey was forgotten. The boatswain's pipe rang out, the men came
tumbling up, and as fast as it could be achieved, the anchor was raised,
sail after sail hoisted, and an hour after, with every scrap of canvas
that could be set, the _Nautilus_ was slowly gliding along right out to
sea, with the palm and mangrove-lined shore slowly fading into the haze,
while the men collected together in knots and discussed the possibility
of catching a slaver that night.
"What's it to be, Van," said Bob Howlett, "fun or flam?"
"Tell you to-morrow morning," was the reply. "I say, I've fed the
chim', and he's asleep."
"Wish I was too," said Bob Howlett, "Oh, I say, ain't it hot?"