Part 1 (1/2)
Black Ivory.
by R.M. Ballantyne.
CHAPTER ONE.
SHOWS THAT A GOOD BEGINNING MAY SOMETIMES BE FOLLOWED BY A BAD ENDING.
”Six feet water in the hold, sir!”
That would not have been a pleasant announcement to the captain of the `Aurora' at any time, but its unpleasantness was vastly increased by the fact that it greeted him near the termination of what had been, up to that point of time, an exceedingly prosperous voyage.
”Are you sure, Davis?” asked the captain; ”try again.”
He gave the order under the influence of that feeling which is styled ”hoping against hope,” and himself accompanied the s.h.i.+p's carpenter to see it obeyed.
”Six feet two inches,” was the result of this investigation.
The vessel, a large English brig, had sprung a leak, and was rolling heavily in a somewhat rough sea off the east coast of Africa. It was no consolation to her captain that the sh.o.r.es of the great continent were visible on his lee, because a tremendous surf roared along the whole line of coast, threatening destruction to any vessel that should venture to approach, and there was no harbour of refuge nigh.
”She's sinking fast, Mr Seadrift,” said the captain to a stout frank-looking youth of about twenty summers, who leant against the bulwarks and gazed wistfully at the land; ”the carpenter cannot find the leak, and the rate at which the water is rising shows that she cannot float long.”
”What then do you propose to do?” inquired young Seadrift, with a troubled expression of countenance.
”Abandon her,” replied the captain.
”Well, _you_ may do so, captain, but I shall not forsake my father's s.h.i.+p as long as she can float. Why not beach her somewhere on the coast? By so doing we might save part of the cargo, and, at all events, shall have done the utmost that lay in our power.”
”Look at the coast,” returned the captain; ”where would you beach her?
No doubt there is smooth water inside the reef, but the channels through it, if there be any here, are so narrow that it would be almost certain death to make the attempt.”
The youth turned away without replying. He was sorely perplexed. Just before leaving England his father had said to him, ”Harold, my boy, here's your chance for paying a visit to the land you've read and talked so much about, and wished so often to travel through. I have chartered a brig, and shall send her out to Zanzibar with a cargo of beads, cotton cloth, bra.s.s wire, and such like: what say you to go as supercargo? Of course you won't be able to follow in the steps of Livingstone or Mungo Park, but while the brig is at Zanzibar you will have an opportunity of running across the channel, the island being only a few miles from the main, and having a short run up-country to see the n.i.g.g.e.rs, and perchance have a slap at a hippopotamus. I'll line your pockets, so that you won't lack the sinews of war, without which travel either at home or abroad is but sorry work, and I shall only expect you to give a good account of s.h.i.+p and cargo on your return.--Come, is it fixed?”
Need we say that Harold leaped joyfully at the proposal? And now, here he was, called on to abandon the `Aurora' to her fate, as we have said, near the end of a prosperous voyage. No wonder that he was perplexed.
The crew were fully aware of the state of matters. By the captain's orders they stood ready to lower the two largest boats, into which they had put much of their worldly goods and provisions as they could hold with safety.
”Port, port your helm,” said the captain to the man at the wheel.
”Port it is, sir,” replied the man at the wheel, who was one of those broad-shouldered, big-chested, loose-garmented, wide-trousered, bare-necked, free-and-easy, off-hand jovial tars who have done so much, in years gone by, to increase the wealth and prosperity of the British Empire, and who, although confessedly scarce, are considerately allowed to perish in hundreds annually on our sh.o.r.es for want of a little reasonable legislation. But cheer up, ye jolly tars! There is a glimmer of sunrise on your political horizon. It really does seem as if, in regard to you, there were at last ”a good time coming.”
”Port, port,” repeated the captain, with a glance at the compa.s.s and the sky.
”Port it is, sir,” again replied the jovial one.
”Steady! Lower away the boat, lads.--Now, Mr Seadrift,” said the captain, turning with an air of decision to the young supercargo, ”the time has come for you to make up your mind. The water is rising in the hold, and the s.h.i.+p is, as you see, settling fast down. I need not say to you that it is with the utmost regret I find it necessary to abandon her; but self-preservation and the duty I owe to my men render the step absolutely necessary. Do you intend to go with us?”
”No, captain, I don't,” replied Harold Seadrift firmly. ”I do not blame you for consulting your own safety, and doing what you believe to be your duty, but I have already said that I shall stick by the s.h.i.+p as long as she can float.”
”Well, sir, I regret it but you must do as you think best,” replied the captain, turning away--”Now, lads, jump in.”