Part 25 (2/2)
”'That were a whale, Jim,' said his mate. 'I don't care a dime,' said the first speaker; 'I knows I likes my pipe, and I likes a quid. Now, in a night like this, for instance, what a blessing it would be to light up, and--and--why, it won't abear thinkin' on, hanged if it will.'
”'Now lay on your oars, men,' I said. 'I want to see what is inside a little bottle of medical comforts the doctor stowed away under here.'
”It was a bottle of sick-mess sherry, which we all shared, and p.r.o.nounced the best ever we had tasted, and the doctor 'a brick'.
”Onwards now we sped, as fast as oars could pull us, Dawson and I occasionally relieving the men and taking a spell at the oars. It was moonlight, I said, and until we were fairly in the river this was in favour of us; now, however, it was all against us. None hate the English more than does your fighting Arab of slave proclivities. At any moment we might fall in with a slave dhow, and the crew thereof would certainly not miss such a favourable opportunity of paying off old scores. We had lots of arms on board, and so we meant, if attacked, to peg away at the beggars to the bitter end. However, discretion is the better part of valour, so we kept right in the centre of the stream, where we could be least seen. This was slow work, but safe.
”It must have been past ten o'clock, and we were well up the river, when, on rounding a point, we came suddenly in sight of a large-armed dhow, slowly going down stream. My first intention was to alter our course. 'No, no,' said Dawson, who is no end of a clever fellow, 'that will only create suspicion. Let me hail her;' and he did so in good Arabic. If suspicion was excited on board the strange dhow, it was, I feel sure, lulled again when Dawson began, in stentorian tones, to sing a well-known Arab boating chant. The song, I feel sure, saved us, and so we kept it up nearly all the way to Lamoo.
”About a mile from the town we crept insh.o.r.e and hid our boat in the bush, leaving one man in her. Now there is but one or two European merchants in the town, and one of these we knew, but the way to his house we were ignorant of; but we knew where Comoro Jack lived in the outskirts. He had been our guide before, so thither we went, and happily found Jack at home: a tall young savage, arrayed only in a waist belt, and an enormous (42nd Highlander's) busby on, and a tall spear in one hand.
”'Well, you blessed Englishmen, what you want wid Jack?' Such was our greeting. We hastily told him, and the amount, and--
”'Comoro Jack will go like a shot,' said the savage. The sandy streets were well-nigh deserted, and Comoro Jack, as he strode on beside us, thought himself no end of a fine fellow.
”'London is one ver' good place,' he informed us, 'as big as Lamoo, and streets better pave, and girls better dress. You see it was like this: the French they take Myotta; poor king ob de island he go to London to see de British Queen of England, and I go too among de body-guard. But when the poor king come to de palace, 'Will you fight for me de dam French?' he say. 'Very sorry,' said the British Queen of England, 'but I cannot fight de dam French.”
”'And who', we asked, 'gave you the bonnet and plumes?'
”'De British Queen ob England,' said Comoro Jack. 'She soon spot me out among de n.i.g.g.e.rs, and she put it on my head. 'Here, poor chile,' she say, 'you not catch cold wid that.”
”The house Comoro Jack led us to was that of a French merchant, and his hospitality was unbounded; but we refused all refreshment until we had first smoked a pipe. Oh, didn't that pipe make men of us. We spent a very pleasant half-hour with the merchant; then we filled our sacks and returned to our boat happier, surely, than Joseph's brethren could have been coming up, corn-laden, from the land of the Pharaohs. We had one or two little escapades going down stream, caught it wet and nasty on the bar, but got safely and quietly on board the _Seamew_ one hour before sunrise, and to witness the joy on our mess-mates' faces when we cracked a bottle of rum and opened a box of Havanas, more than repaid us for all we had come through.
”Next morning, to his intense disgust, the skipper found us all smoking, and looking funny and jolly. But he never knew where we found the 'baccy.”
CHAPTER IX.--TONGUES OF LURID FIRE, BLUE, GREEN, AND DEEPEST CRIMSON.
Very little was talked of during the next few days except the coming ascent of Mount Terror. In the saloon mess non-success was not even dreamt of. It was only forward about the galley fire that doubts were mooted.
”Our skipper is just about as plucky as they make them nowadays,” said old Jack Forbes, taking his short pipe from his mouth, ”but, bless ye, boys, look what's before 'em.”
”True for you, Jack,” said a mate of his, ”they'll be all frozen to death, and that'll be the way of it. Hope they won't ask me to go and help to carry things.”
”Nor me,” said another.
Nearer and nearer to the western land drew the bonnie barque, and in the beautiful suns.h.i.+ne she anch.o.r.ed at last in a bay close under the shadow of the mountain they were to attempt to scale.
Captain Talbot made all preparations at once. There was indeed but little time to lose now, for ere long the frosts would set in, and if not clear of the southern ice ere then, hard indeed might be their lot.
When going upon a dangerous expedition it is the duty of every brave man to do all in his power to guard against failure. Talbot, therefore, left not a stone unturned to ensure success; whether he secured it or not, he seemed determined to merit it.
Alpen-stocks were made for the purpose, and so, too, were ice-axes, though these latter were necessarily primitive.
Very little ammunition and few arms were to be taken. In the lone recesses of the hills and in that wild mountain, they had nothing to fear from savage man or beast. The land in here was as desolate and barren of everything but snow and ice as that worn-out world, the moon itself.
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