Part 1 (2/2)
I was the only one of the family who felt unable to do anything for myself. I wrote too bad a hand to allow me any hopes of obtaining a situation in a counting-house; and though I would have gone out as an errand boy or page rather than be a burden to my sisters, I was sure they would not permit this, and, besides, I felt that by my taking an inferior position they would be lowered in the cold eyes of the world.
I had ardently wished to go to sea, and I thought that the captain who had promised to take me as a mids.h.i.+pman would still receive me could I reach Portsmouth. I did not calculate the expense of an outfit, nor did I think of the allowance young gentlemen are expected to receive on board a man-of-war.
I had wandered one day down to the docks to indulge myself in the sight of the s.h.i.+pping, contemplating the possibility of obtaining a berth on board one of the fine vessels I saw fitting out, and had been standing for some time on the quay, when I observed a tall good-looking man, in the dress of a merchantman's captain, step out of a boat which had apparently come from a black rakish looking brigantine lying a short distance out in the stream. I looked at him hard, for suddenly it occurred to me that I remembered his features. Yes, I was certain. He had been junior mate of the ”Fair Rosomond,” in which vessel we had come home from Jamaica, and a great chum of mine. ”Mr Willis,” I said, ”do you remember me? I am Harry Bayford.”
”Not by looks, but by your voice and eyes I do, my boy,” he answered, grasping my hand and shaking it heartily. ”But what has happened? I see you are in mourning.”
I told him of my father's misfortunes and death; and as we walked along frankly opened out on my views and plans. ”You will have no chance in the navy without means or friends, Harry,” he answered. ”There's no use thinking about the matter; but if your mind is set on going to sea I'll take you, and do my best to make a sailor of you. I have command of the 'Chieftain,' an African trader, the brigantine you see off in the stream there. Though we do not profess to take mids.h.i.+pmen, I'll give you a berth in my cabin, and I don't see that in the long run you will run more risk than you would have to go through on board vessels trading to other parts of the world.”
”Thank you, Captain Willis, very much,” I exclaimed, ”I little expected so soon to go to sea.”
”Don't talk of thanks, Harry,” he answered, ”your poor father was very kind to me, and I am glad to serve you. I had intended calling on him before sailing; and if your sisters will allow me, I'll pay them a visit, and answer any objections they may make to your going.”
After dining with the captain at an inn, I hurried home with, what I considered, this good news. My sisters, however, were very unwilling to sanction my going. They had heard so much of the deadly climate of the African coast, and of dangers from slavers and pirates, that they dreaded the risk I should run. Captain Willis, according to his promise, called the next day, and not without difficulty quieted their apprehensions.
Mammy, though unwilling to part with me, still could not help feeling a deep interest in my undertaking, as she thought that I was going to visit her own still-loved country; and while a.s.sisting my sisters to prepare my outfit she entertained me with an account of its beauties and wonders, while I promised to bring her back from it all sorts of things which I expected to collect. ”And suppose, Mammy, I was to fall in with your little piccaniny, shall I bring him back to you?” I asked, with the thoughtlessness of a boy--certainly not intending to hurt her feelings. She dropped her work, gazing at me with a tearful eye.
”He fine little black boy, big as you when four year old,” she said, and stopped as if in thought, and then added, ”Ah, Ma.s.sa Harry, he no little boy now though, him great big man like him fader, you no know him, I no know him.”
”But what is his name, Mammy? That would be of use,” I said.
”Him called Cheebo,” she answered, heaving a deep sigh. ”But Africa great big country--tousands and tousands of people; you no find Cheebo among dem; G.o.d only find him. His eye everywhere. He hears Mammy's prayers, dat great comfort.”
”That it is, indeed,” said Jane, fearing that my careless remarks had needlessly grieved poor Mammy, by raising long dormant feelings in her heart. ”And oh, my dear Harry, if you are brought into danger, and inclined to despair--and I fear you will have many dangers to go through--recollect that those who love you at home are earnestly praying for you; and at the same time never forget to pray for yourself, and to feel a.s.sured that G.o.d will hear our united prayers, and preserve you in the way He thinks best.”
”I will try to remember,” I said, ”but do not fancy, Jane, that I am going to run my head into all sorts of dangers. I daresay we shall have a very pleasant voyage out, and be back again in a few months with a full cargo of palm oil, ivory, gold-dust, and all sorts of precious things, such as I understand Captain Willis is going to trade for.”
”You will not forget Cheebo though, Ma.s.sa Harry,” said Mammy, in a low voice. The idea that I might meet her son was evidently taking strong possession of her mind.
”That I will not,” I answered. ”I'll ask his name of every black fellow I meet, and if I find him I'll tell him that I know his mother Mammy, and ask him to come with me to see you.”
”Oh, but he not know dat name,” exclaimed Mammy. ”Me called Ambah in Africa; him fader called Quamino. You no forget dat.”
”I hope not; but I'll put them in my pocketbook,” I said, writing down the names, though I confess that I did so without any serious thoughts about the matter, but merely for the sake of pleasing old Mammy. When I told Captain Willis afterwards, he was highly amused with the notion, and said that I might just as well try to find a needle in a bundle of hay as to look for the old woman's son on the coast of Africa.
The day of parting from my poor sisters and our n.o.ble-hearted nurse arrived. I did not expect to feel it so much as I did, and I could then understand how much grief it caused them.
”Cheer up, Harry,” said Captain Willis, as the ”Chieftain,” under all sail, was standing down the Mersey. ”You must not let thoughts of home get the better of you. We shall soon be in blue water, and you must turn to and learn to be a sailor. By the time you have made another voyage or so I expect to have you as one of my mates, and, perhaps, before you are many years older, you will become the commander of a fine craft like this.”
I followed the captain's advice, and by the time we had crossed the line I could take my trick at the helm, and was as active aloft as many of the elder seamen on board.
CHAPTER TWO.
THE ”CHIEFTAIN” ARRIVES OFF THE COAST OF AFRICA, AND WE CARRY ON A BRISK TRADE WITH THE NATIVES, WHO COME OFF TO US THROUGH THE SURF.--AT LENGTH CAPTAIN WILLIS PROPOSES TO RUN UP THE RIVER BONNY TO COMPLETE OUR CARGO.
NOT FORGETFUL OF MY PROMISE TO MAMMY, I MAKE INQUIRIES FOR HER SON CHEEBO.
It was my morning watch. I was indulging in the pleasure particularly enjoyable after sweltering in the close hot atmosphere of the cabin, of paddling about with bare feet on the wet deck, over which I and some of the men were heaving buckets of water, while others were l.u.s.tily using holy-stones and scrubbing brushes, under the superintendence of Mr Wesbey, the first mate. The black cook was lighting his fire in the caboose, from whence a wreath of smoke ascended almost perpendicularly in the clear atmosphere. The sea was smooth as gla.s.s, but every now and then a slowly heaving swell lifted the vessel, and caused her sails, which hung down against the masts, to give a loud flap, while here and there the surface was broken by the fin or snout of some monster of the deep swimming round us. Our monkey, Quako, who had been turned out of his usual resting-place, was exhibiting more than his ordinary agility-- springing about the rigging, and chattering loudly, now making his way aloft, whence he looked eastwards, and now returning to the caboose, as if to communicate his ideas to his sable friend.
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