LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
| Number | Title |
|---|---|
| I-01-a | Cousin Benedict |
| I-01-b | Captain Hull advanced to meet Mrs. Weldon and her party |
| I-02-a | Negoro |
| I-02-b | Dick and Little Jack |
| I-03-a | Negoro had approached without being noticed by any one |
| I-03-b | The dog began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat |
| I-04-a | Mrs. Weldon assisted by Nan and the ever active Dick Sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers |
| I-04-b | The good-natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand |
| I-05-a | "There you are, then, Master Jack!" |
| I-05-b | Jack cried out in the greatest excitement that Dingo knew how to read |
| I-05-c | Negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters |
| I-06-a | "This Dingo is nothing out of the way" |
| I-06-b | Occasionally Dick Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle |
| I-06-c | "What a big fellow!" |
| I-07-a | The captain's voice came from the retreating boat |
| I-07-b | "I must get you to keep your eye upon that man" |
| I-08-a | The whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it |
| I-08-b | The boat was well-nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized |
| I-08-c | There is no hope |
| I-09-a | "Oh, we shall soon be on shore!" |
| I-09-b | "Oh yes, Jack; you shall keep the wind in order" |
| I-10-a | All three of them fell flat upon the deck |
| I-10-b | Jack evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand |
| I-10-c | A light shadow glided stealthily along the deck |
| I-11-a | For half an hour Negoro stood motionless |
| I-12-a | Under bare poles |
| I-12-b | Quick as lightning, Dick Sands drew a revolver from his pocket |
| I-12-c | "There! look there!" |
| I-13-a | "You have acquitted yourself like a man" |
| I-13-b | They both examined the outspread chart |
| I-13-c | The sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand |
| I-14-a | Surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience |
| I-14-b | Not without emotion could Mrs. Weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship |
| I-14-c | The entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent lisk of breaking his neck |
| I-15-a | "Good morning, my young friend" |
| I-15-b | "He is my little son" |
| I-15-c | They came to a tree to which a horse was tethered |
| I-16-a | The way across the forest could scarcely be called a path |
| I-16-b | Occasionally the soil became marshy |
| I-16-c | A halt for the night |
| I-16-d | Hercules himself was the first to keep watch |
| I-17-a | "Don't fire!" |
| I-17-b | A herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud |
| I-17-c | A halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees |
| I-18-a | "Look here! here are hands, men's hands" |
| I-18-b | The man was gone, and his horse with him! |
| II-02-a | They were seated at the foot of an enormous banyan-tree |
| II-02-b | Both men, starting to their feet, looked anxiously around them |
| II-02-c | Dingo disappeared again amongst the bushes |
| II-03-a | "You must keep this a secret" |
| II-03-b | "Harris has left us" |
| II-03-c | The march was continued with as much rapidity as was consistent with caution |
| II-04-a | It was a scene only too common in Central Africa |
| II-04-b | Another brilliant flash brought the camp once again into relief |
| II-04-c | One after another, the whole party made their way inside |
| II-05-a | Cousin Benedict's curiosity was awakened |
| II-05-b | The naturalist now fairly mounted on a favourite hobby |
| II-05-c | "My poor boy, I know everything" |
| II-06-a | They set to work to ascertain what progress the water was making |
| II-06-b | All fired simultaneously at the nearest boat |
| II-06-c | The giant clave their skulls with the butt end of his gun |
| II-07-a | The start was made |
| II-08-a | If ever the havildar strolled a few yards away, Bat took the opportunity of murmuring a few words of encouragement to his poor old father |
| II-08-b | The caravan had been attacked on the flank by a dozen or more crocodiles |
| II-08-c | The creature that had sprung to my feet was Dingo |
| II-08-d | More slaves sick, and abandoned to take their chance |
| II-09-a | Adjoining the commercial quarter was the royal residence |
| II-09-b | With a yell and a curse, the American fell dead at his feet |
| II-10-a | Accompanied by Coïmbra, Alvez himself was one of the first arrivals |
| II-11-a | The potentate beneath whose sway the country trembled for a hundred miles round |
| II-11-b | Alvez advanced and presented the king with some fresh tobacco |
| II-11-c | The king had taken fire internally |
| II-12-a | "Your life is in my hands!" |
| II-12-b | All his energies were restored |
| II-13-a | Friendless and hopeless He contented himself with the permission to go where he pleased within the limits of the palisade |
| II-13-b | "I suppose Weldon will not mind coming to fetch you?" |
| II-14-a | Dr. Livingstone |
| II-14-b | With none to guide him except a few natives |
| II-14-c | "You are Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" |
| II-15-a | The insufferable heat had driven all the residents within the depôt indoors |
| II-15-b | Before long the old black speck was again flitting just above his head |
| II-15-c | For that day at least Cousin Benedict had lost his chance of being the happiest of entomologists |
| II-16-a | The entire crowd joined in |
| II-16-b | "Here they are, captain! both of them!!" |
| II-17-a | Hercules could leave the boat without much fear of detection |
| II-17-b | It was caused by a troop of a hundred or more elephants |
| II-18-a | He stood face to face with his foe |
| II-18-b | Instantly five or six negroes scrambled down the piles |
| II-19-a | Upon the smooth wood were two great letters in dingy red |
| II-19-b | The dog was griping the man by the throat |
| II-19-c | The bullet shattered the rudder-scull into fragments |
CHAPTER I.
THE "PILGRIM."
On the 2nd of February, 1873, the "Pilgrim," a tight little craft of 400 tons burden, lay in lat. 43° 57', S. and long. 165° 19', W. She was a schooner, the property of James W. Weldon, a wealthy Californian ship-owner who had fitted her out at San Francisco, expressly for the whale-fisheries in the southern seas.
James Weldon was accustomed every season to send his whalers both to the Arctic regions beyond Behring Straits, and to the Antarctic Ocean below Tasmania and Cape Horn; and the "Pilgrim," although one of the smallest, was one of the best-going vessels of its class; her sailing-powers were splendid, and her rigging was so adroitly adapted that with a very small crew she might venture without risk within sight of the impenetrable ice-fields of the southern hemisphere: under skilful guidance she could dauntlessly thread her way amongst the drifting ice-bergs that, lessened though they were by perpetual shocks and undermined by warm currents, made their way northwards as far as the parallel of New Zealand or the Cape of Good Hope, to a latitude corresponding to which in the northern hemisphere they are never seen, having already melted away in the depths of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.
For several years the command of the "Pilgrim" had been entrusted to Captain Hull, an experienced seaman, and one of the most dexterous harpooners in Weldon's service. The crew consisted of five sailors and an apprentice. This number, of course, was quite insufficient for the process of whale-fishing, which requires a large contingent both for manning the whale-boats and for cutting up the whales after they are captured; but Weldon, following the example of other owners, found it more economical to embark at San Francisco only just enough men to work the ship to New Zealand, where, from the promiscuous gathering of seamen of well-nigh every nationality, and of needy emigrants, the captain had no difficulty in engaging as many whalemen as he wanted for the season. This method of hiring men who could be at once discharged when their services were no longer required had proved altogether to be the most profitable and convenient.
The "Pilgrim" had now just completed her annual voyage to the Antarctic circle. It was not, however, with her proper quota of oil-barrels full to the brim, nor yet with an ample cargo of cut and uncut whalebone, that she was thus far on her way back. The time, indeed, for a good haul was past; the repeated and vigourous attacks upon the cetaceans had made them very scarce; the whale known as "the Right whale," the "Nord-kapper" of the northern fisheries, the "Sulpher-boltone" of the southern, was hardly ever to be seen; and latterly the whalers had had no alternative but to direct their efforts against the Finback or Jubarte, a gigantic mammal, encounter with which is always attended with considerable danger.
So scanty this year had been the supply of whales that Captain Hull had resolved next year to push his way into far more southern latitudes; even, if necessary, to advance to the regions known as Clarie and Adélie Lands, of which the discovery, though claimed by the American navigator Wilkes, belongs by right to the illustrious Frenchman Dumont d'Urville, the commander of the "Astrolabe" and the "Zélee."
The season had been exceptionally unfortunate for the "Pilgrim." At the beginning of January, almost in the height of the southern summer, long before the ordinary time for the whalers' return, Captain Hull had been obliged to abandon his fishing-quarters. His hired contingent, all men of more than doubtful character, had given signs of such insubordination as threatened to end in mutiny; and he had become aware that he must part company with them on the earliest possible opportunity. Accordingly, without delay, the bow of the "Pilgrim" was directed to the northwest, towards New Zealand, which was sighted on the 15th of January, and on reaching Waitemata, the port of Auckland, in the Hauraki Gulf, on the east coast of North Island, the whole of the gang was peremptorily discharged.
The ship's crew were more than dissatisfied. They were angry. Never before had they returned with so meagre a haul. They ought to have had at least two hundred barrels more. The captain himself experienced all the mortification of an ardent sportsman who for the first time in his life brings home a half-empty bag; and there was a general spirit of animosity against the rascals whose rebellion had so entirely marred the success of the expedition.
Captain Hull did everything in his power to repair the disappointment; he made every effort to engage a fresh gang; but it was too late; every available seaman had long since been carried off to the fisheries. Finding therefore that all hope of making good the deficiency in his cargo must be resigned, he was on the point of leaving Auckland, alone with his crew, when he was met by a request with which he felt himself bound to comply.
It had chanced that James Weldon, on one of those journeys which were necessitated by the nature of his business, had brought with him his wife, his son Jack, a child of five years of age, and a relation of the family who was generally known by the name of Cousin Benedict. Weldon had of course intended that his family should accompany him on his return home to San Francisco; but little Jack was taken so seriously ill, that his father, whose affairs demanded his immediate return, was obliged to leave him behind at Auckland with his wife and Cousin Benedict.
Three months had passed away, little Jack was convalescent, and Mrs. Weldon, weary of her long separation from her husband, was anxious to get home as soon as possible. Her readiest way of reaching San Francisco was to cross to Australia, and thence to take a passage in one of the vessels of the "Golden Age" Company, which run between Melbourne and the Isthmus of Panama: on arriving in Panama she would have to wait the departure of the next American steamer of the line which maintains a regular communication between the Isthmus and California. This route, however, involved many stoppages and changes, such as are always disagreeable and inconvenient for women and children, and Mrs. Weldon was hesitating whether she should encounter the journey, when she heard that her husband's vessel, the "Pilgrim," had arrived at Auckland. Hastening to Captain Hull, she begged him to take her with her little boy, Cousin Benedict, and Nan, an old negress who had been her attendant from her childhood, on board the "Pilgrim," and to convey them to San Francisco direct.
"Was it not over hazardous," asked the captain, "to venture upon a voyage of between 5000 and 6000 miles in so small a sailing-vessel?"
But Mrs. Weldon urged her request, and Captain Hull, confident in the sea-going qualities of his craft, and anticipating at this season nothing but fair weather on either side of the equator, gave his consent.
In order to provide as far as possible for the comfort of the lady during a voyage that must occupy from forty to fifty days, the captain placed his own cabin at her entire disposal.
Everything promised well for a prosperous voyage. The only hindrance that could be foreseen arose from the circumstance that the "Pilgrim" would have to put in at Valparaiso for the purpose of unlading; but that business once accomplished, she would continue her way along the American coast with the assistance of the land breezes, which ordinarily make the proximity of those shores such agreeable quarters for sailing.
Mrs. Weldon herself had accompanied her husband in so many voyages, that she was quite inured to all the makeshifts of a seafaring life, and was conscious of no misgiving in embarking upon a vessel of such small tonnage. She was a brave, high-spirited woman of about thirty years of age, in the enjoyment of excellent health, and for her the sea had no terrors. Aware that Captain Hull was an experienced man, in whom her husband had the utmost confidence, and knowing that his ship was a substantial craft, registered as one of the best of the American whalers, so far from entertaining any mistrust as to her safety, she only rejoiced in the opportuneness of the chance which seemed to offer her a direct and unbroken route to her destination.
Cousin Benedict, as a matter of course, was to accompany her. He was about fifty; but in spite of his mature age it would have been considered the height of imprudence to allow him to travel anywhere alone. Spare, lanky, with a bony frame, with an enormous cranium, and a profusion of hair, he was one of those amiable, inoffensive savants who, having once taken to gold spectacles, appear to have arrived at a settled standard of age, and, however long they live afterwards, seem never to be older than they have ever been.
Claiming a sort of kindredship with all the world, he was universally known, far beyond the pale of his own connexions, by the name of "Cousin Benedict." In the ordinary concerns of life nothing would ever have rendered him capable of shifting for himself; of his meals he would never think until they were placed before him; he had the appearance of being utterly insensible to heat or cold; he vegetated rather than lived, and might not inaptly be compared to a tree which, though healthy enough at its core, produces scant foliage and no fruit. His long arms and legs were in the way of himself and everybody else; yet no one could possibly treat him with unkindness. As M. Prudhomme would say, "if only he had been endowed with capability," he would have rendered a service to any one in the world; but helplessness was his dominant characteristic; helplessness was ingrained into his very nature; yet this very helplessness made him an object of kind consideration rather than of contempt, and Mrs. Weldon looked upon him as a kind of elder brother to her little Jack.
It must not be supposed, however, that Cousin Benedict was either idle or unoccupied. On the contrary, his whole time was devoted to one absorbing passion for natural history. Not that he had any large claim to be regarded properly as a natural historian; he had made no excursions over the whole four districts of zoology, botany, mineralogy, and geology, into which the realms of natural history are commonly divided; indeed, he had no pretensions at all to be either a botanist, a mineralogist, or a geologist; his studies only sufficed to make him a zoologist, and that in a very limited sense. No Cuvier was he; he did not aspire to decompose animal life by analysis, and to recompose it by synthesis; his enthusiasm had not made him at all deeply versed in vertebrata, mollusca, or radiata; in fact, the vertebrata-animals, birds, reptiles, fishes-had had no place in his researches; the mollusca-from the cephalopoda to the bryozia-had had no attractions for him; nor had he consumed the midnight oil in investigating the radiata, the echmodermata, acalephæ, polypi, entozoa, or infusoria.
No; Cousin Benedict's interest began and ended with the articulata; and it must be owned at once that his studies were very far from embracing all the range of the six classes into which "articulata" are subdivided; viz, the insecta, the mynapoda, the arachnida, the crustacea, the cinhopoda, and the anelides; and he was utterly unable in scientific language to distinguish a worm from a leech, an earwig from a sea-acorn, a spider from a scorpion, a shrimp from a frog-hopper, or a galley-worm from a centipede.
To confess the plain truth, Cousin Benedict was an amateur entomologist, and nothing more.
Entomology, it may be asserted, is a wide science; it embraces the whole division of the articulata; but our friend was an entomologist only in the limited sense of the popular acceptation of the word; that is to say, he was an
[Illustration: Cousin Benedict]
observer and collector of insects, meaning by "insects" those articulata which have bodies consisting of a number of concentric movable rings, forming three distinct segments, each with a pair of legs, and which are scientifically designated as hexapods.
To this extent was Cousin Benedict an entomologist; and when it is remembered that the class of insecta of which he had grown up to be the enthusiastic student comprises no less than ten [Footnote: These ten orders are (1) the orthoptera, e.g. grasshoppers and crickets; (2) the neuroptera, e.g. dragon-flies; (3) the hymenoptera, e.g. bees, wasps, and ants; (4) the lepidoptera, e.g. butterflies and moths; (5) the hemiptera, e.g. cicadas and fleas; (6) the coleoptera, e.g. cockchafers and glow-worms; (7) the diptera, e.g. gnats and flies; (8) the rhipiptera, e.g. the stylops; (9) the parasites, e.g. the acarus; and (10) the thysanura, e.g. the lepisma and podura.] orders, and that of these ten the coleoptera and diptera alone include 30,000 and 60,000 species respectively, it must be confessed that he had an ample field for his most persevering exertions.
Every available hour did he spend in the pursuit of his favourite science: hexapods ruled his thoughts by day and his dreams by night. The number of pins that he carried thick on the collar and sleeves of his coat, down the front of his waistcoat, and on the crown of his hat, defied computation; they were kept in readiness for the capture of specimens that might come in his way, and on his return from a ramble in the country he might be seen literally encased with a covering of insects, transfixed adroitly by scientific rule.
This ruling passion of his had been the inducement that had urged him to accompany Mr. and Mrs. Weldon to New Zealand. It had appeared to him that it was likely to be a promising district, and now having been successful in adding some rare specimens to his collection, he was anxious to get back again to San Francisco, and to assign them their proper places in his extensive cabinet.
Besides, it never occurred to Mrs. Weldon to start without him. To leave him to shift for himself would be sheer cruelty. As a matter of course whenever Mrs. Weldon went on board the "Pilgrim," Cousin Benedict would go too.
Not that in any emergency assistance of any kind could be expected from him; on the contrary, in the case of difficulty he would be an additional burden; but there was every reason to expect a fair passage and no cause of misgiving of any kind, so the propriety of leaving the amiable entomologist behind was never suggested.
Anxious that she should be no impediment in the way of the due departure of the "Pilgrim" from Waitemata, Mrs. Weldon made her preparations with the utmost haste, discharged the servants which she had temporarily engaged at Auckland, and accompanied by little Jack and the old negress, and followed mechanically by Cousin Benedict, embarked on the 22nd of January on board the schooner.
The amateur, however, kept his eye very scrupulously upon his own special box. Amongst his collection of insects were some very remarkable examples of new staphylins, a species of carnivorous coleoptera with eyes placed above their head; it was a kind supposed to be peculiar to New Caledonia. Another rarity which had been brought under his notice was a venomous spider, known among the Maoris as a "katipo;" its bite was asserted to be very often fatal. As a spider, however, belongs to the order of the arachnida, and is not properly an "insect," Benedict declined to take any interest in it. Enough for him that he had secured a novelty in his own section of research; the "Staphylin Neo-Zelandus" was not only the gem of his collection, but its pecuniary value baffled ordinary estimate; he insured his box at a fabulous sum, deeming it to be worth far more than all the cargo of oil and whalebone in the "Pilgrim's" hold.
Captain Hull advanced to meet Mrs. Weldon and her party as they stepped on deck.
"It must be understood, Mrs. Weldon," he said, courteously raising his hat, "that you take this passage entirely on your own responsibility."
"Certainly, Captain Hull," she answered; "but why do you ask?"
"Simply because I have received no orders from Mr. Weldon," replied the captain.
[Illustration: Captain Hull advanced to meet Mrs. Weldon and her party.]
"But my wish exonerates you," said Mrs. Weldon.
"Besides," added Captain Hull, "I am unable to provide you with the accommodation and the comfort that you would have upon a passenger steamer."
"You know well enough, captain," remonstrated the lady "that my husband would not hesitate for a moment to trust his wife and child on board the 'Pilgrim.' "
"Trust, madam! No! no more than I should myself. I repeat that the 'Pilgrim' cannot afford you the comfort to which you are accustomed."
Mrs. Weldon smiled.
"Oh, I am not one of your grumbling travellers. I shall have no complaints to make either of small cramped cabins, or of rough and meagre food."
She took her son by the hand, and passing on, begged that they might start forthwith.
Orders accordingly were given; sails were trimmed; and after taking the shortest course across the gulf, the "Pilgrim" turned her head towards America.
Three days later strong easterly breezes compelled the schooner to tack to larboard in order to get to windward. The consequence was that by the 2nd of February the captain found himself in such a latitude that he might almost be suspected of intending to round Cape Horn rather than of having a design to coast the western shores of the New Continent.
Still, the sea did not become rough. There was a slight delay, but, on the whole, navigation was perfectly easy.
CHAPTER II.
THE APPRENTICE.
There was no poop upon the "Pilgrim's" deck, so that Mrs. Weldon had no alternative than to acquiesce in the captain's proposal that she should occupy his own modest cabin.
Accordingly, here she was installed with Jack and old Nan; and here she took all her meals, in company with the captain and Cousin Benedict.
For Cousin Benedict tolerably comfortable sleeping accommodation had been contrived close at hand, while Captain Hull himself retired to the crew's quarter, occupying the cabin which properly belonged to the chief mate, but as already indicated, the services of a second officer were quite dispensed with.
All the crew were civil and attentive to the wife of their employer, a master to whom they were faithfully attached. They were all natives of the coast of California, brave and experienced seamen, and united by tastes and habits in a common bond of sympathy. Few as they were in number, their work was never shirked, not simply from the sense of duty, but because they were directly interested in the profits of their undertaking; the success of their labours always told to their own advantage. The present expedition was the fourth that they had taken together; and, as it turned out to be the first in which they had failed to meet with success, it may be imagined that they were full of resentment against the mutinous whalemen who had been the cause of so serious a diminution of their ordinary gains.
[Illustration: Negoro.]
The only one on board who was not an American was a man who had been temporarily engaged as cook. His name was Negoro; he was a Portuguese by birth, but spoke English with perfect fluency. The previous cook had deserted the ship at Auckland, and when Negoro, who was out of employment, applied for the place, Captain Hull, only too glad to avoid detention, engaged him at once without inquiry into his antecedents. There was not the slightest fault to be found with the way in which the cook performed his duties, but there was something in his manner, or perhaps, rather in the expression of his countenance, which excited the Captain's misgivings, and made him regret that he had not taken more pains to investigate the character of one with whom he was now brought into such close contact
Negoro looked about forty years of age. Although he had the appearance of being slightly built, he was muscular; he was of middle height, and seemed to have a robust constitution; his hair was dark, his complexion somewhat swarthy. His manner was taciturn, and although, from occasional remarks that he dropped, it was evident that he had received some education, he was very reserved on the subjects both of his family and of his past life. No one knew where he had come from, and he admitted no one to his confidence as to where he was going, except that he made no secret of his intention to land at Valparaiso. His freedom from sea-sickness demonstrated that this could hardly be his first voyage, but on the other hand his complete ignorance of seamen's phraseology made it certain that he had never been accustomed to his present occupation. He kept himself aloof as much as possible from the rest of the crew, during the day rarely leaving the great cast-iron stove, which was out of proportion to the measurement of the cramped little kitchen; and at night, as soon as the fire was extinguished, took the earliest opportunity of retiring to his berth and going to sleep.
It has been already stated that the crew of the "Pilgrim" consisted of five seamen and an apprentice. This apprentice was Dick Sands.
Dick was fifteen years old; he was a foundling, his unknown parents having abandoned him at his birth, and he had been brought up in a public charitable institution. He had been called Dick, after the benevolent passer-by who had discovered him when he was but an infant a few hours old, and he had received the surname of Sands as a memorial of the spot where he had been exposed, Sandy Hook, a point at the mouth of the Hudson, where it forms an entrance to the harbour of New York.
As Dick was so young it was most likely he would yet grow a little taller, but it did not seem probable that he would ever exceed middle height, he looked too stoutly and strongly built to grow much. His complexion was dark, but his beaming blue eyes attested, with scarcely room for doubt, his Anglo-Saxon origin, and his countenance betokened energy and intelligence. The profession that he had adopted seemed to have equipped him betimes for fighting the battle of life.
Misquoted often as Virgil's are the words
"Audaces fortuna juvat!"
but the true reading is
"Audentes fortuna juvat!"
and, slight as the difference may seem, it is very significant. It is upon the confident rather than the rash, the daring rather than the bold, that Fortune sheds her smiles; the bold man often acts without thinking, whilst the daring always thinks before he acts.
And Dick Sands was truly courageous; he was one of the daring. At fifteen years old, an age at which few boys have laid aside the frivolities of childhood, he had acquired the stability of a man, and the most casual observer could scarcely fail to be attracted by his bright, yet thoughtful countenance. At an early period of his life he had realized all the difficulties of his position, and had made a resolution, from which nothing tempted him to flinch, that he would carve out for himself an honourable and independent career. Lithe and agile in his movements, he was an adept in every kind of athletic exercise; and so marvellous was his success in everything he undertook, that he might almost be supposed to be one of those gifted mortals who have two right hands and two left feet.
Until he was four years old the little orphan had found a home in one of those institutions in America where forsaken children are sure of an asylum, and he was subsequently sent to an industrial school supported by charitable aid, where he learnt reading, writing, and arithmetic. From the days of infancy he had never deviated from the expression of his wish to be a sailor, and accordingly, as soon as he was eight, he was placed as cabin-boy on board one of the ships that navigate the Southern Seas. The officers all took a peculiar interest in him, and he received, in consequence, a thoroughly good grounding in the duties and discipline of a seaman's life. There was no room to doubt that he must ultimately rise to eminence in his profession, for when a child from the very first has been trained in the knowledge that he must gain his bread by the sweat of his brow, it is comparatively rare that he lacks the will to do so.
Whilst he was still acting as cabin-boy on one of those trading-vessels, Dick attracted the notice of Captain Hull, who took a fancy to the lad and introduced him to his employer. Mr. Weldon at once took a lively interest in Dick's welfare, and had his education continued in San Francisco, taking care that he was instructed in the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, to which his own family belonged.
Throughout his studies Dick Sands' favourite subjects were always those which had a reference to his future profession; he mastered the details of the geography of the world; he applied himself diligently to such branches of mathematics as were necessary for the science of navigation; whilst for recreation in his hours of leisure, he would greedily devour every book of adventure in travel that came in his way. Nor did he omit duly to combine the practical with the theoretical; and when he was bound apprentice on board the "Pilgrim," a vessel not only belonging to his benefactor, but under the command of his kind friend Captain Hull, he congratulated himself most heartily, and felt that the experience he should gain in the southern whale-fisheries could hardly fail to be of service to him in after-life. A first-rate sailor ought to be a first-rate fisherman too.
It was a matter of the greatest pleasure to Dick Sands when he heard to his surprise that Mrs. Weldon was about to become a passenger on board the "Pilgrim." His devotion to the family of his benefactor was large and genuine. For several years Mrs. Weldon had acted towards him little short of a mother's part, and for Jack, although he never forgot the difference in their position, he entertained well-nigh a brother's affection. His friends had the satisfaction of being assured that they had sown the seeds of kindness on a generous soil, for there was no room to doubt that the heart of the orphan boy was overflowing with sincere gratitude. Should the occasion arise, ought he not, he asked, to be ready to sacrifice everything in behalf of those to whom he was indebted not only for his start in life, but for the knowledge of all that was right and holy?
Confiding in the good principles of her protégé, Mrs. Weldon had no hesitation in entrusting her little son to his especial charge. During the frequent periods of leisure, when the sea was fair, and the sails required no shifting, the apprentice was never weary of amusing Jack by making him familiar with the practice of a sailor's craft; he made him scramble up the shrouds, perch upon the yards, and slip down the back-stays; and the mother had no alarm; her assurance of Dick Sands' ability and watchfulness to protect her boy was so complete that she could only rejoice in an occupation for him that seemed more than anything to restore the colour he had lost in his recent illness.
Time passed on without incident; and had it not been for the constant prevalence of an adverse wind, neither passengers nor crew could have found the least cause of complaint. The pertinacity, however, with which the wind kept to the east could not do otherwise than make Captain Hull somewhat concerned; it absolutely prevented him from getting his ship into her proper course, and he could not altogether suppress his misgiving that the calms near the
[Illustration: Dick and little Jack.]
Tropic of Capricorn, and the equatorial current driving him on westwards, would entail a delay that might be serious.
It was principally on Mrs. Weldon's account that the Captain began to feel uneasiness, and he made up his mind that if he could hail a vessel proceeding to America he should advise his passengers to embark on her; unfortunately, however, he felt that they were still in a latitude far too much to the south to make it likely that they should sight a steamer going to Panama; and at that date, communication between Australia and the New World was much less frequent than it has since become.
Still, nothing occurred to interrupt the general monotony of the voyage until the 2nd of February, the date at which our narrative commences.
It was about nine o'clock in the morning of that day that Dick and little Jack had perched themselves together on the top-mast-yards. The weather was very clear, and they could see the horizon right round except the section behind them, hidden by the brigantine-sail on the main-mast. Below them, the bowsprit seemed to lie along the water with its stay-sails attached like three unequal wings; from the lads' feet to the deck was the smooth surface of the fore-mast; and above their heads nothing but the small top-sail and the top-mast. The schooner was running on the larboard tack as close to the wind as possible.
Dick Sand was pointing out to Jack how well the ship was ballasted, and was trying to explain how it was impossible for her to capsize, however much she heeled to starboard, when suddenly the little fellow cried out,-
"I can see something in the water!"
"Where? what?" exclaimed Dick, clambering to his feet upon the yard.
"There!" said the child, directing attention to the portion of the sea-surface that was visible between the stay-sails.
Dick fixed his gaze intently for a moment, and then shouted out lustily,-
"Look out in front, to starboard! There is something afloat. To windward, look out!"
CHAPTER III.
A RESCUE.
At the sound of Dick's voice all the crew, in a moment, were upon the alert. The men who were not on watch rushed to the deck, and Captain Hull hurried from his cabin to the bows. Mrs. Weldon, Nan, and even Cousin Benedict leaned over the starboard taffrails, eager to get a glimpse of what had thus suddenly attracted the attention of the young apprentice. With his usual indifference, Negoro did not leave his cabin, and was the only person on board who did not share the general excitement.
Speculations were soon rife as to what could be the nature of the floating object which could be discerned about three miles ahead. Suggestions of various character were freely made. One of the sailors declared that it looked to him only like an abandoned raft, but Mrs. Weldon observed quickly that if it were a raft it might be carrying some unfortunate shipwrecked men who must be rescued if possible. Cousin Benedict asserted that it was nothing more nor less than a huge sea-monster; but the captain soon arrived at the conviction that it was the hull of a vessel that had heeled over on to its side, an opinion with which Dick thoroughly coincided, and went so far as to say that he believed he could make out the copper keel glittering in the sun.
"Luff, Bolton, luff!" shouted Captain Hull to the helmsman; "we will at any rate lose no time in getting alongside."
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the helmsman, and the "Pilgrim" in an instant was steered according to orders.
In spite, however, of the convictions of the captain and Dick, Cousin Benedict would not be moved from his opinion that the object of their curiosity was some huge cetacean.
"It is certainly dead, then," remarked Mrs. Weldon; "it is perfectly motionless."
"Oh, that's because it is asleep," said Benedict, who, although he would have willingly given up all the whales in the ocean for one rare specimen of an insect, yet could not surrender his own belief.
"Easy, Bolton, easy!" shouted the captain when they were getting nearer the floating mass; "don't let us be running foul of the thing; no good could come from knocking a hole in our side; keep out from it a good cable's length."
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the helmsman, in his usual cheery way; and by an easy turn of the helm the "Pilgrim's" course was slightly modified so as to avoid all fear of collision.
The excitement of the sailors by this time had become more intense. Ever since the distance had been less than a mile all doubt had vanished, and it was certain that what was attracting their attention was the hull of a capsized ship. They knew well enough the established rule that a third of all salvage is the right of the finders, and they were filled with the hope that the hull they were nearing might contain an undamaged cargo, and be "a good haul," to compensate them for their ill-success in the last season.
A quarter of an hour later and the "Pilgrim" was within half a mile of the deserted vessel, facing her starboard side. Water-logged to her bulwarks, she had heeled over so completely that it would have been next to impossible to stand upon her deck. Of her masts nothing was to be seen; a few ends of cordage were all that remained of her shrouds, and the try-sail chains were hanging all broken. On the starboard flank was an enormous hole.
"Something or other has run foul of her," said Dick.
"No doubt of that," replied the captain; "the only wonder is that she did not sink immediately."
"Oh, how I hope the poor crew have been saved!" exclaimed Mrs Weldon.
"Most probably," replied the captain, "they would all have taken to the boats. It is as likely as not that the ship which did the mischief would continue its course quite unconcerned"
"Surely, you cannot mean," cried Mrs Weldon, "that any one could be capable of such inhumanity?"
"Only too probable," answered Captain Hull, "unfortunately, such instances are very far from rare"
He scanned the drifting ship carefully and continued,-
"No, I cannot see any sign of boats here, I should guess that the crew have made an attempt to get to land, at such a distance as this, however, from America or from the islands of the Pacific I should be afraid that it must be hopeless."
"Is it not possible," asked Mrs Weldon, "that some poor creature may still survive on board, who can tell what has happened?"
"Hardly likely, madam; otherwise there would have been some sort of a signal in sight. But it is a matter about which we will make sure."
The captain waved his hand a little in the direction in which he wished to go, and said quietly,-
"Luff, Bolton, luff a bit!"
The "Pilgrim" by this time was not much more than three cables' lengths from the ship, there was still no token of her being otherwise than utterly deserted, when Dick Sands suddenly exclaimed,-
"Hark! if I am not much mistaken, that is a dog barking!"
Every one listened attentively; it was no fancy on Dick's part, sure enough a stifled barking could be heard, as if some unfortunate dog had been imprisoned beneath the hatchways; but as the deck was not yet visible, it was impossible at present to determine the precise truth.
Mrs Weldon pleaded,-
"If it is only a dog, captain, let it be saved."
"Oh, yes, yes, mamma, the dog must be saved!" cried
[Illustration: Negoro had approached without being noticed by any one]
little Jack; "I will go and get a bit of sugar ready for it."
"A bit of sugar, my child, will not be much for a starved dog."
"Then it shall have my soup, and I will do without," said the boy, and he kept shouting, "Good dog! good dog!" until he persuaded himself that he heard the animal responding to his call.
The vessels were now scarcely three hundred feet apart; the barking was more and more distinct, and presently a great dog was seen clinging to the starboard netting. It barked more desperately than ever.
"Howick," said Captain Hull, calling to the boatswain, "heave to, and lower the small boat."
The sails were soon trimmed so as to bring the schooner to a standstill within half a cable's length of the disabled craft, the boat was lowered, and the captain and Dick, with a couple of sailors, went on board. The dog kept up a continual yelping; it made the most vigourous efforts to retain its hold upon the netting, but perpetually slipped backwards and fell off again upon the inclining deck. It was soon manifest, however, that all the noise the creature was making was not directed exclusively towards those who were coming to its rescue, and Mrs. Weldon could not divest herself of the impression that there must be some survivors still on board. All at once the animal changed its gestures. Instead of the crouching attitude and supplicating whine with which it seemed to be imploring the compassion of those who were nearing it, it suddenly appeared to become bursting with violence and furious with rage.
"What ails the brute?" exclaimed Captain Hull.
But already the boat was on the farther side of the wrecked ship, and the captain was not in a position to see that Negoro the cook had just come on to the schooner's deck, or that it was obvious that it was against him that the dog had broken out in such obstreperous fury. Negoro had approached without being noticed by any one; he made his way to the forecastle, whence, without a word or look of surprise, he gazed a moment at the dog, knitted his brow, and, silent and unobserved as he had come, retired to his kitchen.
As the boat had rounded the stern of the drifting hull, it had been observed that the one word "Waldeck" was painted on the aft-board, but that there was no intimation of the port to which the ship belonged. To Captain Hull's experienced eye, however, certain details of construction gave a decided confirmation to the probability suggested by her name that she was of American build.
Of what had once been a fine brig of 500 tons burden this hopeless wreck was now all that remained. The large hole near the bows indicated the place where the disastrous shock had occurred, but as, in the heeling over, this aperture had been carried some five or six feet above the water, the vessel had escaped the immediate foundering which must otherwise have ensued; but still it wanted only the rising of a heavy swell to submerge the ship at any time in a few minutes.
It did not take many more strokes to bring the boat close to the larboard bulwark, which was half out of the water, and Captain Hull obtained a view of the whole length of the deck. It was clear from end to end. Both masts had been snapped off within two feet of their sockets, and had been swept away with shrouds, stays, and rigging. Not a single spar was to be seen floating anywhere within sight of the wreck, a circumstance from which it was to be inferred that several days at least had elapsed since the catastrophe.
Meantime the dog, sliding down from the taffrail, got to the centre hatchway, which was open. Here it continued to bark, alternately directing its eyes above deck and below.
"Look at that dog!" said Dick; "I begin to think there must be somebody on board."
"If so," answered the captain, "he must have died of hunger; the water of course has flooded the store-room."
"No," said Dick; "that dog wouldn't look like that if there were nobody there alive."
[Illustration: The dog began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat.]
Taking the boat as close as was prudent to the wreck, the captain and Dick called and whistled repeatedly to the dog, which after a while let itself slip into the sea, and began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat. As soon as it was lifted in, the animal, instead of devouring the piece of bread that was offered him, made its way to a bucket containing a few drops of fresh water, and began eagerly to lap them up.
"The poor wretch is dying of thirst!" said Dick.
It soon appeared that the dog was very far from being engrossed with its own interests. The boat was being pushed back a few yards in order to allow the captain to ascertain the most convenient place to get alongside the "Waldeck," when the creature seized Dick by the jacket, and set up a howl that was almost human in its piteousness. It was evidently in a state of alarm that the boat was not going to return to the wreck. The dog's meaning could not be misunderstood. The boat was accordingly brought against the larboard side of the vessel, and while the two sailors lashed her securely to the "Waldeck's" cat-head, Captain Hull and Dick, with the dog persistently accompanying them, clambered, after some difficulty, to the open hatchway between the stumps of the masts, and made their way into the hold. It was half full of water, but perfectly destitute of cargo, its sole contents being the ballast sand which had slipped to larboard, and now served to keep the vessel on her side.
One glance was sufficient to convince the captain that there was no salvage to be effected.
"There is nothing here; nobody here," he said.
"So I see," said the apprentice, who had made his way to the extreme fore-part of the hold.
"Then we have only to go up again," remarked the captain.
They ascended the ladder, but no sooner did they reappear upon the deck than the dog, barking irrepressibly, began trying manifestly to drag them towards the stern.
Yielding to what might be called the importunities of the dog, they followed him to the poop, and there, by the dim glimmer admitted by the sky-light, Captain Hull made out the forms of five bodies, motionless and apparently lifeless, stretched upon the floor.
One after another, Dick hastily examined them all, and emphatically declared it to be his opinion, that not one or them had actually ceased to breathe; whereupon the captain did not lose a minute in summoning the two sailors to his aid, and although it was far from an easy task, he succeeded in getting the five unconscious men, who were all negroes, conveyed safely to the boat.
The dog followed, apparently satisfied.
With all possible speed the boat made its way back again to the "Pilgrim," a girt-line was lowered from the mainyard, and the unfortunate men were raised to the deck.
"Poor things!" said Mrs. Weldon, as she looked compassionately on the motionless forms.
"But they are not dead," cried Dick eagerly; "they are not dead; we shall save them all yet!"
"What's the matter with them?" asked Cousin Benedict, looking at them with utter bewilderment.
"We shall hear all about them soon, I dare say," said the captain, smiling; "but first we will give them a few drops of rum in some water."
Cousin Benedict smiled in return.
"Negoro!" shouted the captain.
At the sound of the name, the dog, who had hitherto been quite passive, growled fiercely, showed his teeth, and exhibited every sign of rage.
The cook did not answer.
"Negoro!" again the captain shouted, and the dog became yet more angry.
At this second summons Negoro slowly left his kitchen, but no sooner had he shown his face upon the deck than the animal made a rush at him, and would unquestionably have seized him by the throat if the man had not knocked him back with a poker which he had brought with him in his hand.
The infuriated beast was secured by the sailors, and prevented from inflicting any serious injury.
"Do you know this dog?" asked the captain.
"Know him? Not I! I have never set eyes on the brute in my life."
"Strange!" muttered Dick to himself; "there is some mystery here. We shall see."
CHAPTER IV.
THE SURVIVORS OF THE "WALDECK."
In spite of the watchfulness of the French and English cruisers, there is no doubt that the slave-trade is still extensively carried on in all parts of equatorial Africa, and that year after year vessels loaded with slaves leave the coasts of Angola and Mozambique to transport their living freight to many quarters even of the civilized world.
Of this Captain Hull was well aware, and although he was now in a latitude which was comparatively little traversed by such slavers, he could not help almost involuntarily conjecturing that the negroes they had just found must be part of a slave-cargo which was on its way to some colony of the Pacific; if this were so, he would at least have the satisfaction of announcing to them that they had regained their freedom from the moment that they came on board the "Pilgrim."
Whilst these thoughts were passing through his mind, Mrs. Weldon, assisted by Nan and the ever active Dick Sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers. The judicious administration of fresh water and a limited quantity of food soon had the effect of making them revive; and when they were restored to their senses it was found that the eldest of them, a man of about sixty years of age, who immediately regained his powers of speech, was able to reply in good English to all the questions that were put to him. In answer to Captain Hull's inquiry whether they were not slaves, the old negro proudly stated that he and his companions were
[Illustration: Mrs. Weldon, assisted by Nan and the ever active Dick Sands, was doing everything in her power to restore consciousness to the poor sufferers.]
all free American citizens, belonging to the state of Pennsylvania.
"Then, let me assure you, my friend," said the captain, "you have by no means compromised your liberty in having been brought on board the American schooner 'Pilgrim.' "
Not merely, as it seemed, on account of his age and experience, but rather because of a certain superiority and greater energy of character, this old man was tacitly recognized as the spokesman of his party; he freely communicated all the information that Captain Hull required to hear, and by degrees he related all the details of his adventures.
He said that his name was Tom, and that when he was only six years of age he had been sold as a slave, and brought from his home in Africa to the United States; but by the act of emancipation he had long since recovered his freedom. His companions, who were all much younger than himself, their ages ranging from twenty-five to thirty, were all free-born, their parents having been emancipated before their birth, so that no white man had ever exercised upon them the rights of ownership. One of them was his own son; his name was Bat (an abbreviation of Bartholomew); and there were three others, named Austin, Actæon, and Hercules. All four of them were specimens of that stalwart race that commands so high a price in the African market, and in spite of the emaciation induced by their recent sufferings, their muscular, well-knit frames betokened a strong and healthy constitution. Their manner bore the impress of that solid education which is given in the North American schools, and their speech had lost all trace of the "nigger-tongue," a dialect without articles or inflexions, which since the anti-slavery war has almost died out in the United States.
Three years ago, old Tom stated, the five men had been engaged by an Englishman who had large property in South Australia, to work upon his estates near Melbourne. Here they had realized a considerable profit, and upon the completion of their engagement they determined to return with their savings to America. Accordingly, on the 5th of January, after paying their passage in the ordinary way, they embarked at Melbourne on board the "Waldeck." Everything went on well for seventeen days, until, on the night of the 22nd, which was very dark, they were run into by a great steamer. They were all asleep in their berths, but, roused by the shock of the collision, which was extremely severe, they hurriedly made their way on to the deck. The scene was terrible; both masts were gone, and the brig, although the water had not absolutely flooded her hold so as to make her sink, had completely heeled over on her side. Captain and crew had entirely disappeared, some probably having been dashed into the sea, others perhaps having saved themselves by clinging to the rigging of the ship which had fouled them, and which could be distinguished through the darkness rapidly receding in the distance. For a while they were paralyzed, but they soon awoke to the conviction that they were left alone upon a half-capsized and disabled hull, twelve hundred miles from the nearest land. Mrs. Weldon was loud in her expression of indignation that any captain should have the barbarity to abandon an unfortunate vessel with which his own carelessness had brought him into collision. It would be bad enough, she said for a driver on a public road, when it might be presumed that help would be forthcoming, to pass on unconcerned after causing an accident to another vehicle; but how much more shameful to desert the injured on the open sea, where the victims of his incompetence could have no chance of obtaining succour! Captain Hull could only repeat what he had said before, that incredibly atrocious as it might seem, such inhumanity was far from rare.
On resuming his story, Tom said that he and his companions soon found that they had no means left for getting away from the capsized brig; both the boats had been crushed in the collision, so that they had no alternative except to await the appearance of a passing vessel, whilst the wreck was drifting hopelessly along under the action of the currents. This accounted for the fact of their being found so far south of their proper course.
For the next ten days the negroes had subsisted upon a few scraps of food that they found in the stern cabin; but as the store room was entirely under water, they were quite unable to obtain a drop of anything to drink, and the freshwater tanks that had been lashed to the deck had been stove in at the time of the catastrophe. Tortured with thirst, the poor men had suffered agonies, and having on the previous night entirely lost consciousness, they must soon have died if the "Pilgrim's" timely arrival had not effected their rescue.
All the outlines of Tom's narrative were fully confirmed by the other negroes; Captain Hull could see no reason to doubt it; indeed, the facts seemed to speak for themselves.
One other survivor of the wreck, if he had been gifted with the power of speech, would doubtless have corroborated the testimony. This was the dog who seemed to have such an unaccountable dislike to Negoro.
Dingo, as the dog was named, belonged to the fine breed of mastiffs peculiar to New Holland. It was not, however, from Australia, but from the coast of West Africa, near the mouth of the Congo, that the animal had come. He had been picked up there, two years previously, by the captain of the "Waldeck," who had found him wandering about and more than half starved. The initials S. V. engraved upon his collar were the only tokens that the dog had a past history of his own. After he had been taken on board the "Waldeck," he remained quite unsociable, apparently ever pining for some lost master, whom he had failed to find in the desert land where he had been met with.
Larger than the dogs of the Pyrenees, Dingo was a magnificent example of his kind. Standing on his hind legs, with his head thrown back, he was as tall as a man. His agility and strength would have made him a sure match for a panther, and he would not have flinched at facing a bear. His fine shaggy coat was a dark tawny colour, shading off somewhat lighter round the muzzle, and his long bushy tail was as strong as a lion's. If he were made angry, no doubt he might become a most formidable foe, so that it was no wonder that Negoro did not feel altogether gratified at his reception.
But Dingo, though unsociable, was not savage. Old Tom said that, on board the "Waldeck," he had noticed that the animal seemed to have a particular dislike to negroes; not that he actually attempted to do them any harm, only he uniformly avoided them, giving an impression that he must have been systematically ill-treated by the natives of that part of Africa in which he had been found. During the ten days that had elapsed since the collision, Dingo had kept resolutely aloof from Tom and his companions; they could not tell what he had been feeding on; they only knew that, like themselves, he had suffered an excruciating thirst.
Such had been the experience of the survivors of the "Waldeck." Their situation had been most critical. Even if they survived the pangs of want of food, the slightest gale or the most inconsiderable swell might at any moment have sunk the water-logged ship, and had it not been that calms and contrary winds had contributed to the opportune arrival of the "Pilgrim," an inevitable fate was before them; their corpses must lie at the bottom of the sea.
Captain Hull's act of humanity, however, would not be complete unless he succeeded in restoring the shipwrecked men to their homes. This he promised to do. After completing the unlading at Valparaiso, the "Pilgrim" would make direct for California, where, as Mrs. Weldon assured them, they would be most hospitably received by her husband, and provided with the necessary means for returning to Pennsylvania.
The five men, who, as the consequence of the shipwreck, had lost all the savings of their last three years of toil, were profoundly grateful to their kind-hearted benefactors; nor, poor negroes as they were, did they utterly resign the hope that at some future time they might have it in their power to repay the debt which they owed their deliverers.
[Illustration: The good natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand.]
CHAPTER V.
DINGO'S SAGACITY.
Meantime the "Pilgrim" pursued her course, keeping as much as possible to the east, and before evening closed in the hull of the "Waldeck" was out of sight.
Captain Hull still continued to feel uneasy about the constant prevalence of calms; not that for himself he cared much about the delay of a week or two in a voyage from New Zealand to Valparaiso, but he was disappointed at the prolonged inconvenience it caused to his lady passenger. Mrs. Weldon, however, submitted to the detention very philosophically, and did not utter a word of complaint.
The captain's next care was to improvise sleeping accommodation for Tom and his four associates. No room for them could possibly be found in the crew's quarters, so that their berths had to be arranged under the forecastle; and as long as the weather continued fine, there was no reason why the negroes, accustomed as they were to a somewhat rough life, should not find themselves sufficiently comfortable.
After this incident of the discovery of the wreck, life on board the "Pilgrim" relapsed into its ordinary routine. With the wind invariably in the same direction, the sails required very little shifting; but whenever it happened, as occasionally it would, that there was any tacking to be done, the good-natured negroes were ever ready to lend a helping hand; and the rigging would creak again under the weight of Hercules, a great strapping fellow, six feet high, who seemed almost to require ropes of extra strength made for his special use.
Hercules became at once a great favourite with little Jack; and when the giant lifted him like a doll in his stalwart arms, the child fairly shrieked with delight.
"Higher! higher! very high!" Jack would say sometimes.
"There you are, then, Master Jack," Hercules would reply as he raised him aloft.
"Am I heavy?" asked the child,
"As heavy as a feather."
"Then lift me higher still," cried Jack; "as high as ever you can reach."
And Hercules, with the child's two feet supported on his huge palm, would walk about the deck with him like an acrobat, Jack all the time endeavouring, with vain efforts, to make him "feel his weight."
Besides Dick Sands and Hercules, Jack admitted a third friend to his companionship. This was Dingo. The dog, unsociable as he had been on board the "Waldeck," seemed to have found society more congenial to his tastes, and being one of those animals that are fond of children, he allowed Jack to do with him almost anything he pleased. The child, however, never thought of hurting the dog in any way, and it was doubtful which of the two had the greater enjoyment of their mutual sport. Jack found a live dog infinitely more entertaining than his old toy upon its four wheels, and his great delight was to mount upon Dingo's back, when the animal would gallop off with him like a race-horse with his jockey. It must be owned that one result of this intimacy was a serious diminution of the supply of sugar in the store-room. Dingo was the delight of all the crew excepting Negoro, who cautiously avoided coming in contact with an animal who showed such unmistakable symptoms of hostility.
The new companions that Jack had thus found did not in the least make him forget his old friend Dick Sands, who devoted all his leisure time to him as assiduously as ever. Mrs. Weldon regarded their intimacy with the
[Illustration: "There you are, then, Master Jack!">[
greatest satisfaction, and one day made a remark to that effect in the presence of Captain Hull.
"You are right, madam," said the captain cordially; "Dick is a capital fellow, and will be sure to be a first-rate sailor. He has an instinct which is little short of a genius; it supplies all deficiencies of theory. Considering how short an experience and how little instruction he has had, it is quite wonderful how much he knows about a ship."
"Certainly for his age," assented Mrs. Weldon, "he is singularly advanced. I can safely say that I have never had a fault to find with him. I believe that it is my husband's intention, after this voyage, to let him have systematic training in navigation, so that he may be able ultimately to become a captain."
"I have no misgivings, madam," replied the captain; "there is every reason to expect that he will be an honour to the service"
"Poor orphan!" said the lady; "he has been trained in a hard school."
"Its lessons have not been lost upon him," rejoined Captain Hull; "they have taught him the prime lesson that he has his own way to make in the world."
The eyes of the two speakers turned as it were unwittingly in the direction where Dick Sands happened to be standing. He was at the helm.
"Look at him now!" said the captain; "see how steadily he keeps his eye upon the fore; nothing distracts him from his duty; he is as much to be depended on as the most experienced helmsman. It was a capital thing for him that he began his training as a cabin-boy. Nothing like it. Begin at the beginning. It is the best of training for the merchant service."
"But surely," interposed Mrs. Weldon, "you would not deny that in the navy there have been many good officers who have never had the training of which you are speaking?"
"True, madam; but yet even some of the best of them have begun at the lowest step of the ladder. For instance, Lord Nelson."
Just at this instant Cousin Benedict emerged from the stern-cabin, and completely absorbed, according to his wont, in his own pursuit, began to wander up and down the deck, peering into the interstices of the network, rummaging under the seats, and drawing his long fingers along the cracks in the floor where the tar had crumbled away.
"Well, Benedict, how are you getting on?" asked Mrs Weldon.
"I? Oh, well enough, thank you," he replied dreamily; "but I wish we were on shore."
"What were you looking for under that bench?" said Captain Hull.
"Insects, of course," answered Benedict; "I am always looking for insects."
"But don't you know, Benedict," said Mrs. Weldon, "that Captain Hull is far too particular to allow any vermin on the deck of his vessel?"
Captain Hull smiled and said,-
"Mrs Weldon is very complimentary; but I am really inclined to hope that your investigations in the cabins of the 'Pilgrim' will not be attended with much success."
Cousin Benedict shrugged his shoulders in a manner that indicated that he was aware that the cabins could furnish nothing attractive in the way of insects.
"However," continued the captain, "I dare say down in the hold you could find some cockroaches; but cockroaches, I presume, would be of little or no interest to you."
"No interest?" cried Benedict, at once warmed into enthusiasm; "why, are they not the very orthoptera that roused the imprecations of Virgil and Horace? Are they not closely allied to the Periplaneta orientalis and the American Kakerlac, which inhabit-"
"I should rather say infest," interrupted the captain.
"Easy enough to see, sir," replied Benedict, stopping short with amazement, "that you are not an entomologist!"
"I fear I must plead guilty to your accusation," said the captain good-humouredly.
"You must not expect every one to be such an enthusiast in your favourite study as yourself." Mrs. Weldon interposed; "but are you not satisfied with the result of your explorations in New Zealand?"
"Yes, yes," answered Benedict, with a sort of hesitating reluctance; "I must not say I was dissatisfied; I was really very delighted to secure that new staphylin which hitherto had never been seen elsewhere than in New California; but still, you know, an entomologist is always craving for fresh additions to his collection."
While he was speaking, Dingo, leaving little Jack, who was romping with him, came and jumped on Benedict, and began to fawn on him.
"Get away, you brute!" he exclaimed, thrusting the dog aside.
"Poor Dingo! good dog!" cried Jack, running up and taking the animal's huge head between his tiny hands.
"Your interest in cockroaches, Mr. Benedict," observed the captain, "does not seem to extend to dogs."
"It isn't that I dislike dogs at all," answered Benedict; "but this creature has disappointed me."
"How do you mean? You could hardly want to catalogue him with the diptera or hymenoptera?" asked Mrs Weldon laughingly.
"Oh, not at all," replied Benedict, with the most unmoved gravity. "But I understood that he had been found on the West Coast of Africa, and I hoped that perhaps he might have brought over some African hemiptera in his coat; but I have searched his coat well, over and over again, without finding a single specimen. The dog has disappointed me," he repeated mournfully.
"I can only hope," said the captain, "that if you had found anything, you were going to kill it instantly."
Benedict looked with mute astonishment into the captain's face. In a moment or two afterwards, he said,-
"I suppose, sir, you acknowledge that Sir John Franklin was an eminent member of your profession?"
"Certainly; why?"
"Because Sir John would never take away the life of the most insignificant insect; it is related of him that when he had once been incessantly tormented all day by a mosquito, at last he found it on the back of his hand and blew it off, saying, 'Fly away, little creature, the world is large enough for both you and me!' "
"That little anecdote of yours, Mr. Benedict," said the captain, smiling, "is a good deal older than Sir John Franklin. It is told, in nearly the same words, about Uncle Toby, in Sterne's 'Tristram Shandy'; only there it was not a mosquito, it was a common fly."
"And was Uncle Toby an entomologist?" asked Benedict; "did he ever really live?"
"No," said the captain, "he was only a character in a novel."
Cousin Benedict gave a look of utter contempt, and Captain Hull and Mrs Weldon could not resist laughing.
Such is only one instance of the way in which Cousin Benedict invariably brought it about that all conversation with him ultimately turned upon his favourite pursuit, and all along, throughout the monotonous hours of smooth sailing, while the "Pilgrim" was making her little headway to the east, he showed his own devotion to his pet science, by seeking to enlist new disciples. First of all, he tried his powers of persuasion upon Dick Sands, but soon finding that the young apprentice had no taste for entomological mysteries, he gave him up and turned his attention to the negroes. Nor was he much more successful with them; one after another, Tom, Bat, Actæon, and Austin had all withdrawn themselves from his instructions, and the class at last was reduced to the single person of Hercules; but in him the enthusiastic naturalist thought he had discovered a latent talent which could distinguish between a parasite and a thysanura.
Hercules accordingly submitted to pass a considerable portion of his leisure in the observation of every variety of coleoptera; he was encouraged to study the extensive collection of stag-beetles, tiger-beetles and lady-birds; and although at times the enthusiast trembled to see some of his most delicate and fragile specimens in the huge grasp of his pupil, he soon learned that the man's gentle docility was a sufficient guarantee against his clumsiness.
While the science of entomology was thus occupying its two votaries, Mrs. Weldon was giving her own best attention to the education of Master Jack. Reading and writing she undertook to teach herself, while she entrusted the instruction in arithmetic to the care of Dick Sands. Under the conviction that a child of five years will make a much more rapid progress if something like amusement be combined with his lessons, Mrs. Weldon would not teach her boy to spell by the use of an ordinary school primer, but used a set of cubes, on the sides of which the various letters were painted in red. After first making a word and showing it to Jack, she set him to put it together without her help, and it was astonishing how quickly the child advanced, and how many hours he would spend in this way, both in the cabin and on deck. There were more than fifty cubes, which, besides the alphabet, included all the digits; so that they were of service for Dick Sands' lessons as well as for her own. She was more than satisfied with her device.
On the morning of the 9th an incident occurred which could not fail to be observed as somewhat remarkable. Jack was half lying, half sitting on the deck, amusing himself with his letters, and had just finished putting together a word with which he intended to puzzle old Tom, who, with his hand sheltering his eyes, was pretending not to see the difficulty which was being labouriously prepared to bewilder him; all at once, Dingo, who had been gambolling round the child, made a sudden pause, lifted his right paw, and wagged his tail convulsively. Then darting down upon a capital S, he seized it in his mouth, and carried it some paces away.
"Oh, Dingo, Dingo! you mustn't eat my letters!" shouted the child.
But the dog had already dropped the block of wood, and coming back again, picked up another, which he laid quietly by the side of the first. This time it was a capital V. Jack uttered an exclamation of astonishment which brought to his side not only his mother, but the captain and Dick, who were both on deck. In answer to their inquiry as to what had occurred, Jack cried out in the greatest excitement that Dingo knew how to read. At any rate he was sure that he knew his letters.
Dick Sands smiled and stooped to take back the letters. Dingo snarled and showed his teeth, but the apprentice was not frightened; he carried his point, and replaced the two blocks among the rest. Dingo in an instant pounced upon them again, and having drawn them to his side, laid a paw upon each of them, as if to signify his intention of retaining them in his possession. Of the other letters of the alphabet he took no notice at all.
"It is very strange," said Mrs. Weldon; "he has picked out S V again."
"S V!" repeated the captain thoughtfully; "are not those the letters that form the initials on his collar?"
And turning to the old negro, he continued,-
"Tom didn't you say that this dog did not always belong to the captain of the 'Waldeck'?"
"To the best of my belief," replied Tom, "the captain had only had him about two years. I often heard him tell how he found him at the mouth of the Congo."
"Do you suppose that he never knew where the animal came from, or to whom he had previously belonged?" asked Captain Hull.
"Never," answered Tom, shaking his head; "a lost dog is worse to identify than a lost child; you see, he can't make himself understood any way."
The captain made no answer, but stood musing; Mrs. Weldon interrupted him.
"These letters, captain, seem to be recalling something to your recollection.
"I can hardly go so far as to say that, Mrs. Weldon," he replied; "but I cannot help associating them with the fate of a brave explorer."
"Whom do you mean? said the lady.
"In 1871, just two years ago," the captain continued, "a French traveller, under the auspices of the Geographical
[Illustration: Jack cried out in the greatest excitement that Dingo knew how to read]
Society of Paris, set out for the purpose of crossing Africa from west to east. His starting-point was the mouth of the Congo, and his exit was designed to be as near as possible to Cape Deldago, at the mouth of the River Rovouma, of which he was to ascertain the true course. The name of this man was Samuel Vernon, and I confess it strikes me as somewhat a strange coincidence that the letters engraved on Dingo's collar should be Vernon's initials."
"Is nothing known about this traveller?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Nothing was ever heard of him after his first departure. It appears quite certain that he failed to reach the east coast, and it can only be conjectured either that he died upon his way, or that he was made prisoner by the natives; and if so, and this dog ever belonged to him, the animal might have made his way back to the sea-coast, where, just about the time that would be likely, the captain of the 'Waldeck' picked him up."
"But you have no reason to suppose, Captain Hull, that Vernon ever owned a dog of this description?"
"I own I never heard of it," said the captain; "but still the impression fixes itself on my mind that the dog must have been his; how he came to know one letter from another, it is not for me to pretend to say. Look at him now, madam! he seems not only to be reading the letters for himself, but to be inviting us to come and read them with him."
Whilst Mrs. Weldon was watching the dog with much amusement, Dick Sands, who had listened to the previous conversation, took the opportunity of asking the captain whether the traveller Vernon had started on his expedition quite alone.
"That is really more than I can tell you, my boy," answered Captain Hull; "but I should almost take it for granted that he would have a considerable retinue of natives."
The captain spoke without being aware that Negoro had meanwhile quietly stolen on deck. At first his presence was quite unnoticed, and no one observed the peculiar glance with which he looked at the two letters over which Dingo still persisted in keeping guard. The dog, however, no sooner caught sight of the cook than he began to bristle with rage, whereupon Negoro, with a threatening gesture which seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.
The incident did not escape the captain's observation.
"No doubt," he said, "there is some mystery here;" and he was pondering the matter over in his mind when Dick Sands spoke.
"Don't you think it very singular, sir, that this dog should have such a knowledge of the alphabet?"
Jack here put in his word.
"My mamma has told me about a dog whose name was Munito, who could read as well as a schoolmaster, and could play dominoes."
Mrs. Weldon smiled.
"I am afraid, my child, that that dog was not quite so learned as you imagine. I don't suppose he knew one letter from another; but his master, who was a clever American, having found out that the animal had a very keen sense of hearing, taught him some curious tricks."
"What sort of tricks?" asked Dick, who was almost as much interested as little Jack.
"When he had to perform in public," continued Mrs. Weldon, "a lot of letters like yours, Jack, were spread out upon a table, and Munito would put together any word that the company should propose, either aloud or in a whisper, to his master. The creature would walk about until he stopped at the very letter which was wanted. The secret of it all was that the dog's owner gave him a signal when he was to stop by rattling a little tooth-pick in his pocket, making a slight noise that only the dog's ears were acute enough to perceive."
Dick was highly amused, and said,-
"But that was a dog who could do nothing wonderful without his master."
"Just so," answered Mrs. Weldon; "and it surprises me
[Illustration: Negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.]
very much to see Dingo picking out these letters without a master to direct him."
"The more one thinks of it, the more strange it is," said Captain Hull; "but, after all, Dingo's sagacity is not greater than that of the dog which rang the convent bell in order to get at the dish that was reserved for passing beggars; nor than that of the dog who had to turn a spit every other day, and never could be induced to work when it was not his proper day. Dingo evidently has no acquaintance with any other letters except the two S V; and some circumstance which we can never guess has made him familiar with them."
"What a pity he cannot talk!" exclaimed the apprentice; "we should know why it is that he always shows his teeth at Negoro."
"And tremendous teeth they are!" observed the captain, as Dingo at that moment opened his mouth, and made a display of his formidable fangs.
CHAPTER VI.
A WHALE IN SIGHT.
It was only what might be expected that the dog's singular exhibition of sagacity should repeatedly form a subject of conversation between Mrs. Weldon, the captain, and Dick. The young apprentice in particular began to entertain a lurking feeling of distrust towards Negoro, although it must be owned that the man's conduct in general afforded no tangible grounds for suspicion.
Nor as it only among the stern passengers that Dingo's remarkable feat was discussed; amongst the crew in the bow the dog not only soon gained the reputation of being able to read, but was almost credited with being able to write too, as well as any sailor among them; indeed the chief wonder was that he did not speak.
"Perhaps he can," suggested Bolton, the helmsman, "and likely enough some fine day we shall have him coming to ask about our bearings, and to inquire which way the wind lies."
"Ah! why not?" assented another sailor; "parrots talk, and magpies talk; why shouldn't a dog? For my part, I should guess it must be easier to speak with a mouth than with a beak."
"Of course it is," said Howick, the boatswain; "only a quadruped has never yet been known to do it."
Perhaps, however, the worthy fellow would have been amazed to hear that a certain Danish savant once possesed a dog that could actually pronounce quite distinctly nearly twenty different words, demonstrating that the construction
[Illustration: "This Dingo is nothing out of the way.">[
of the glottis, the aperture at the top of the windpipe, was adapted for the emission of regular sounds: of course the animal attached no meaning to the words it uttered any more than a parrot or a jay can comprehend their own chatterings.
Thus, unconsciously, Dingo had become the hero of the hour. On several separate occasions Captain Hull repeated the experiment of spreading out the blocks before him, but invariably with the same result; the dog never failed, without the slightest hesitation, to pick out the two letters, leaving all the rest of the alphabet quite unnoticed.
Cousin Benedict alone, somewhat ostentatiously, professed to take no interest in the circumstance.
"You cannot suppose," he said to Captain Hull, after various repetitions of the trick, "that dogs are to be reckoned the only animals endowed with intelligence Rats, you know, will always leave a sinking ship, and beavers invariably raise their dams before the approach of a flood. Did not the horses of Nicomedes, Scanderberg and Oppian die of grief for the loss of their masters? Have there not been instances of donkeys with wonderful memories? Birds, too, have been trained to do the most remarkable things; they have been taught to write word after word at their master's dictation; there are cockatoos who can count the people in a room as accurately as a mathematician; and haven't you heard of the old Cardinal's parrot that he would not part with for a hundred gold crowns because it could repeat the Apostles' creed from beginning to end without a blunder? And insects," he continued, warming into enthusiasm, "how marvellously they vindicate the axiom-
'In minimis maximus Deus!'
Are not the structures of ants the very models for the architects of a city? Has the diving-bell of the aquatic argyroneta ever been surpassed by the invention of the most skilful student of mechanical art? And cannot fleas go through a drill and fire a gun as well as the most accomplished artilleryman? This Dingo is nothing out of the way. I suppose he belongs to some unclassed species of mastiff. Perhaps one day or other he may come to be identified as the 'canis alphabeticus' of New Zealand."
The worthy entomologist delivered this and various similar harangues; but Dingo, nevertheless, retained his high place in the general estimation, and by the occupants of the forecastle was regarded as little short of a phenomenon. The feeling, otherwise universal, was not in any degree shared by Negoro, and it is not improbable that the man would have been tempted to some foul play with the dog if the open sympathies of the crew had not kept him in check. More than ever he studiously avoided coming in contact in any way with the animal, and Dick Sands in his own mind was quite convinced that since the incident of the letters, the cook's hatred of the dog had become still more intense.
After continual alternations with long and wearisome calms the north-east wind perceptibly moderated, and on the both, Captain Hull really began to hope that such a change would ensue as to allow the schooner to run straight before the wind. Nineteen days had elapsed since the "Pilgrim" had left Auckland, a period not so long but that with a favourable breeze it might be made up at last. Some days however were yet to elapse before the wind veered round to the anticipated quarter.
It has been already stated that this portion of the Pacific is almost always deserted. It is out of the line of the American and Australian steam-packets, and except a whaler had been brought into it by some such exceptional circumstances as the "Pilgrim," it was quite unusual to see one in this latitude.
But, however void of traffic was the surface of the sea, to none but an unintelligent mind could it appear monotonous or barren of interest. The poetry of the ocean breathes forth in its minute and almost imperceptible changes. A marine plant, a tuft of seaweed lightly furrowing the water, a drifting spar with its unknown history, may afford unlimited scope-for the imagination; every little drop passing, in its process of evaporation, backwards and
[Illustration: Occasionally Dick Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle.]
forwards from sea to sky, might perchance reveal its own special secret; and happy are those minds which are capable of a due appreciation of the mysteries of air and ocean.
Above the surface as well as below, the restless flood is ever teaming with animal life; and the passengers on board the "Pilgrim" derived no little amusement from watching great flocks of birds migrating northwards to escape the rigour of the polar winter, and ever and again descending in rapid flight to secure some tiny fish. Occasionally Dick Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle, and, thanks to Mr. Weldon's former instructions, would bring down various specimens of the feathered tribe.
Sometimes white petrels would congregate in considerable numbers near the schooner; and sometimes petrels of another species, with brown borders on their wings, would come in sight; now there would be flocks of damiers skimming the water; and now groups of penguins, whose clumsy gait appears so ludicrous on shore; but, as Captain Hull pointed out, when their stumpy wings were employed as fins, they were a match for the most rapid of fish, so that sailors have often mistaken them for bonitos.
High over head, huge albatrosses, their outspread wings measuring ten feet from tip to tip, would soar aloft, thence to swoop down towards the deep, into which they plunged their beaks in search of food. Such incidents and scenes as these were infinite in their variety, and it was accordingly only for minds that were obtuse to the charms of nature that the voyage could be monotonous.
On the day the wind shifted, Mrs. Weldon was walking up and down on the "Pilgrim's" stern, when her attention was attracted by what seemed to her a strange phenomenon. All of a sudden, far as the eye could reach, the sea had assumed a reddish hue, as if it were tinged with blood.
Both Dick and Jack were standing close behind her, and she cried,-
"Look, Dick, look! the sea is all red. Is it a sea-weed that is making the water so strange a colour?
"No," answered Dick, "it is not a weed; it is what the sailors call whales' food; it is formed, I believe, of innumerable myriads of minute crustacea."
"Crustacea they may be," replied Mrs. Weldon, "but they must be so small that they are mere insects. Cousin Benedict no doubt will like to see them."
She called aloud,-
"Benedict! Benedict! come here! we have a sight here to interest you."
The amateur naturalist slowly emerged from his cabin followed by Captain Hull.
"Ah! yes, I see!" said the captain; "whales' food; just the opportunity for you, Mr. Benedict; a chance not to be thrown away for studying one of the most curious of the crustacea."
"Nonsense!" ejaculated Benedict contemptuously; "utter nonsense!"
"Why? what do you mean, Mr. Benedict?" retorted the captain; "surely you, as an entomologist, must know that I am right in my conviction that these crustacea belong to one of the six classes of the articulata."
The disdain of Cousin Benedict was expressed by a repeated sneer.
"Are you not aware, sir, that my researches as an entomologist are confined entirely to the hexapoda?"
Captain Hull, unable to repress a smile, only answered good-humouredly,-
"I see, sir, your tastes do not lie in the same direction as those of the whale."
And turning to Mrs. Weldon, he continued,-
"To whalemen, madam, this is a sight that speaks for itself. It is a token that we ought to lose no time in getting out our lines and looking to the state of our harpoons. There is game not far away."
Jack gave vent to his astonishment.
"Do you mean that great creatures like whales feed on such tiny things as these?"
"Yes, my boy," said the captain; "and I daresay they are as nice to them as semolina and ground rice are to you.
When a whale gets into the middle of them he has nothing to do but to open his jaws, and, in a minute, hundreds of thousands of these minute creatures are inside the fringe or whalebone around his palate, and he is sure of a good mouthful."
"So you see, Jack," said Dick, "the whale gets his shrimps without the trouble of shelling them."
"And when he has just closed his snappers is the very time to give him a good taste of the harpoon," added Captain Hull.
The words had hardly escaped the captain's lips when a shout from one of the sailors announced,-
"A whale to larboard!"
"There's the whale!" repeated the captain. All his professional instincts were aroused in an instant, and he hurried to the bow, followed in eager curiosity by all the stern passengers.
Even Cousin Benedict loitered up in the rear, constrained, in spite of himself, to take a share in the general interest.
There was no doubt about the matter. Four miles or so to windward an unusual commotion in the water betokened to experienced eyes the presence of a whale; but the distance was too great to permit a reasonable conjecture to be formed as to which species of those mammifers the creature belonged.
Three distinct species are familiarly known. First there is the Right whale, which is ordinarily sought for in the northern fisheries. The average length of this cetacean is sixty feet, though it has been known to attain the length of eighty feet. It has no dorsal fin, and beneath its skin is a thick layer of blubber. One of these monsters alone will yield as much as a hundred barrels of oil.
Then there is the Hump-back, a typical representative of the species "balænoptera," a definition which may at first sight appear to possess an interest for an entomologist, but which really refers to two white dorsal fins, each half as wide as the body, resembling a pair of wings, and in their formation similar to those of the flying-fish. It must be owned, however, that a flying whale would decidedly be a rara avis.
Lastly, there is the Jubarte, commonly known as the Finback. It is provided with a dorsal fin, and in length not unfrequently is a match for the gigantic Right whale.
While it was impossible to decide to which of the three species the whale in the distance really belonged, the general impression inclined to the belief that it was a jubarte.
With longing eyes Captain Hull and his crew gazed at the object of general attraction. Just as irresistibly as it is said a clockmaker is drawn on to examine the mechanism of every clock which chance may throw in his way, so is a whaleman ever anxious to plunge his harpoon into any whale that he can get within his reach. The larger the game the more keen the excitement; and no elephant-hunter's eagerness ever surpasses the zest of the whale-fisher when once started in pursuit of the prey.
To the crew the sight of the whale was the opening of an unexpected opportunity, and no wonder they were fired with the burning hope that even now they might do something to supply the deficiency of their meagre haul throughout the season.
Far away as the creature still was, the captain's practised eye soon enabled him to detect various indications that satisfied him as to its true species. Amongst other things that arrested his attention, he observed a column of water and vapour ejected from the nostrils. "It isn't a right whale," he said; "if so, its spout would be smaller and it would rise higher in the air. And I do not think it is a hump-back. I cannot hear the hump-back's roar. Dick, tell me, what do you think about it?"
With a critical eye Dick Sands looked long and steadily at the spout.
"It blows out water, sir," said the apprentice, "water, as well as vapour. I should think it is a finback. But it must be a rare large one."
"Seventy feet, at least!" rejoined the captain, flushing with his enthusiasm.
"What a big fellow!" said Jack, catching the excitement of his elders.
[Illustration: "What a big fellow!">[
"Ah, Jack, my boy," chuckled the captain, "the whale little thinks who are watching him enjoy his breakfast!"
"Yes," said the boatswain; "a dozen such gentlemen as that would freight a craft twice the size of ours; but this one, if only we can get him, will go a good way towards filling our empty barrels."
"Rather rough work, you know," said Dick, "to attack a finback!"
"You are right, Dick," answered the captain; "the boat has yet to be built which is strong enough to resist the flap of a jubarte's tail."
"But the profit is worth the risk, captain, isn't it?"
"You are right again, Dick," replied Captain Hull, and as he spoke, he clambered on to the bowsprit in order that he might get a better view of the whale.
The crew were as eager as their captain. Mounted on the fore-shrouds, they scanned the movements of their coveted prey in the distance, freely descanting upon the profit to be made out of a good finback and declaring that it would be a thousand pities if this chance of filling the casks below should be permitted to be lost.
Captain Hull was perplexed. He bit his nails and knitted his brow.
"Mamma!" cried little Jack, "I should so much like to see a whale close,-quite close, you know."
"And so you shall, my boy," replied the captain, who was standing by, and had come to the resolve that if his men would back him, he would make an attempt to capture the prize.
He turned to his crew,-
"My men! what do you think? shall we make the venture? Remember, we are all alone; we have no whalemen to help us; we must rely upon ourselves; I have thrown a harpoon before now; I can throw a harpoon again; what do you say?"
The crew responded with a ringing cheer,-
"Ay, ay, sir! Ay, ay!"
CHAPTER VII.
PREPARATIONS FOR AN ATTACK.
Great was the excitement that now prevailed, and the question of an attempt to capture the sea-monster became the ruling theme of conversation. Mrs. Weldon expressed considerable doubt as to the prudence of venturing upon so great a risk with such a limited number of hands, but when Captain Hull assured her that he had more than once successfully attacked a whale with a single boat, and that for his part he had no fear of failure, she made no further remonstrance, and appeared quite satisfied.
Having formed his resolve, the captain lost no time in setting about his preliminary arrangements. He could not really conceal from his own mind that the pursuit of a finback was always a matter of some peril, and he was anxious, accordingly, to make every possible provision which forethought could devise against all emergencies.
Besides her long-boat, which was kept between the two masts, the "Pilgrim" had three whale-boats, two of them slung to the starboard and larboard davits, and the third at the stern, outside the taffrail. During the fishing season, when the crew was reinforced by a hired complement of New Zealand whalemen, all three of these boats would be brought at once into requisition, but at present the whole crew of the "Pilgrim" was barely sufficient to man one of the three boats. Tom and his friends were ready to volunteer their assistance, but any offers of service from them were necessarily declined; the manipulation of a whale-boat can only be entrusted to those who are experienced in the work, as a false turn of the tiller or a premature stroke of the oar may in a moment compromise the safety of the whole party. Thus compelled to take all his trained sailors with him on his venturous expedition, the captain had no alternative than to leave his apprentice in charge of the schooner during his absence. Dick's choice would have been very much in favour of taking a share in the whale-hunt, but he had the good sense to know that the developed strength of a man would be of far greater service in the boat, and accordingly without a murmur he resigned himself to remain behind.
Of the five sailors who were to man the boat, there were four to take the oars, whilst Howick the boatswain was to manage the oar at the stern, which on these occasions generally replaces an ordinary rudder as being quicker in action in the event of any of the side oars being disabled. The post of harpooner was of course assigned to Captain Hull, to whose lot it would consequently fall first to hurl his weapon at the whale, then to manage the unwinding of the line to which the harpoon was attached, and finally to kill the creature by lance-wounds when it should emerge again from below the sea.
A method sometimes employed for commencing an attack is to place a sort of small cannon on the bows or deck of the boat and to discharge from it either a harpoon or some explosive bullets, which make frightful lacerations on the body of the victim; but the "Pilgrim" was not provided with apparatus of this description; not only are all the contrivances of this kind very costly and difficult to manage, but the fishermen generally are averse to innovations, and prefer the old-fashioned harpoons. It was with these alone that Captain Hull was now about to encounter the finback that was lying some four miles distant from his ship.
The weather promised as favourably as could be for the enterprise. The sea was calm, and the wind moreover was still moderating, so that there was no likelihood of the schooner drifting away during the captain's absence.
When the starboard whale-boat had been lowered, and the four sailors had entered it, Howick passed a couple of harpoons down to them, and some lances which had been carefully sharpened; to these were added five coils of stout and supple rope, each 600 feet long, for a whale when struck often dives so deeply that even these lengths of line knotted together are found to be insufficient. After these implements of attack had been properly stowed in the bows, the crew had only to await the pleasure of their captain.
The "Pilgrim," before the sailors left her, had been made to heave to, and the yards were braced so as to secure her remaining as stationary as possible. As the time drew near for the captain to quit her, he gave a searching look all round to satisfy himself that everything was in order; he saw that the halyards were properly tightened, and the sails trimmed as they should be, and then calling the young apprentice to his side, he said,-
"Now, Dick, I am going to leave you for a few hours: while I am away, I hope that it will not be necessary for you to make any movement whatever. However, you must be on the watch. It is not very likely, but it is possible that this finback may carry us out to some distance. If so, you will have to follow; and in that case, I am sure you may rely upon Tom and his friends for assistance."
One and all, the negroes assured the captain of their willingness to obey Dick's instructions, the sturdy Hercules rolling up his capacious shirt-sleeves as if to show that he was ready for immediate action.
The captain went on,-
"The weather is beautifully fine, Dick, and I see no prospect of the wind freshening; but come what may, I have one direction to give you which I strictly enforce. You must not leave the ship. If I want you to follow us, I will hoist a flag on the boat-hook."
"You may trust me, sir," answered Dick; "and I will keep a good look-out."
"All right, my lad; keep a cool head and a good heart. You are second captain now, you know. I never heard of any one of your age being placed in such a post; be a credit to your position!"
Dick blushed, and the bright flush that rose to his cheeks spoke more than words.
"The lad may be trusted," murmured the captain to himself; "he is as modest as he is courageous. Yes; he may be trusted."
It cannot be denied that the captain was not wholly without compunction at the step he was taking; he was aware of the danger to which he was exposing himself, but he beguiled himself with the persuasion that it was only for a few hours; and his fisherman's instinct was very keen. It was not only for himself; the desire upon the part of the crew was almost irresistibly strong that every opportunity ought to be employed for making the cargo of the schooner equal to her owner's expectations. And so he finally prepared to start.
"I wish you all success!" said Mrs. Weldon.
"Many thanks!" he replied.
Little Jack put in his word,-
"And you will try and catch the whale without hurting him much?"
"All right, young gentleman," answered the captain; "he shall hardly feel the tip of our fingers!"
"Sometimes," said Cousin Benedict, as if he had been pondering the expedition in relation to his pet science, "sometimes there are strange insects clinging to the backs of these great mammifers; do you think you are likely to procure me any specimens?"
"You shall soon have the opportunity of investigating for yourself," was the captain's reply.
"And you, Tom; we shall be looking to you for help in cutting up our prize, when we get it alongside," continued he.
"We shall be quite ready, sir," said the negro.
"One thing more, Dick," added the captain; "you may as well be getting up the empty barrels out of the hold; they will be all ready."
"It shall be done, sir," answered Dick promptly.
If everything went well it was the intention that the whale after it had been killed should be towed to the side of the schooner, where it would be firmly lashed. Then the sailors with their feet in spiked shoes would get upon its back and proceed to cut the blubber, from head to tail, in long strips, which would first be divided into lumps about a foot and a half square, the lumps being subsequently chopped into smaller portions capable of being stored away in casks. The ordinary rule would be for a ship, as soon as the flaying was complete, to make its way to land where the blubber could be at once boiled down, an operation by which it is reduced by about a third of its weight, and by which it yields all its oil, the only portion of it which is of any value. Under present circumstances, however, Captain Hull would not think of melting down the blubber until his arrival at Valparaiso, and as he was sanguine that the wind would soon set in a favourable direction, he calculated that he should reach that port in less than three weeks, a period during which his cargo would not be deteriorated.
The latest movement with regard to the "Pilgrim" had been to bring her somewhat nearer the spot where the spouts of vapour indicated the presence of the coveted prize. The creature continued to swim about in the reddened waters, opening and shutting its huge jaws like an automaton, and absorbing at every mouthful whole myriads of animalcula. No one entertained a fear that it would try to make an escape; it was the unanimous verdict that it was "a fighting whale," and one that would resist all attacks to the very end.
As Captain Hull descended the rope-ladder and took his place in the front of the boat, Mrs. Weldon and all on board renewed their good wishes.
Dingo stood with his fore paws upon the taffrail, and appeared as much as any to be bidding the adventurous party farewell.
When the boat pushed off, those who were left on board the "Pilgrim" made their way slowly to the bows, from which the most extensive view was to be gained.
The captain's voice came from the retreating boat,-
"A sharp look-out, Dick; a sharp look-out; one eye on us, one on the ship!"
[Illustration: The Captain's voice came from the retreating boat. Page 72]
[Illustration: "I must get you to keep your eye upon that man " Page 73.]
"Ay, ay, sir," replied the apprentice.
By his gestures the captain showed that he was under some emotion; he called out again, but the boat had made such headway that it was too far off for any words to be heard.
Dingo broke out into a piteous howl.
The dog was still standing erect, his eye upon the boat in the distance. To the sailors, ever superstitious, the howling was not reassuring. Even Mrs. Weldon was startled.
"Why, Dingo, Dingo," she exclaimed, "this isn't the way to encourage your friends. Come here, sir; you must behave better than that!"
Sinking down on all fours the animal walked slowly up to Mrs. Weldon, and began to lick her hand.
"Ah!" muttered old Tom, shaking his head solemnly, "he doesn't wag his tail at all. A bad omen."
All at once the dog gave a savage growl.
As she turned her head, Mrs Weldon caught sight of Negoro making his way to the forecastle, probably actuated by the general spirit of curiosity to follow the maneuvers of the whale-boat. He stopped and seized a handspike as soon as he saw the ferocious attitude of the dog.
The lady was quite unable to pacify the animal, which seemed about to fly upon the throat of the cook, but Dick Sands called out loudly,-
"Down, Dingo, down!"
The dog obeyed; but it seemed to be with extreme reluctance that he returned to Dick's side; he continued to growl, as if still remembering his rage. Negoro had turned very pale, and having put down the handspike, made his way cautiously back to his own quarters.
"Hercules," said Dick, "I must get you to keep your eye upon that man."
"Yes, I will," he answered, significantly clenching his fists.
Dick took his station at the helm, whence he kept an earnest watch upon the whale-boat, which under the vigourous plying of the seamen's oars had become little more than a speck upon the water.
CHAPTER VIII.
A CATASTROPHE.
Experienced whaleman as he was, Captain Hull knew the difficulty of the task he had undertaken, he was alive to the importance of making his approach to the whale from the leeward, so that there should be no sound to apprize the creature of the proximity of the boat. He had perfect confidence in his boatswain, and felt sure that he would take the proper course to insure a favourable result to the enterprise.
"We mustn't show ourselves too soon, Howick," he said.
"Certainly not," replied Howick, "I am going to skirt the edge of the discoloured water, and I shall take good care to get well to leeward."
"All right," the captain answered, and turning to the crew said, "now, my lads, as quietly as you can."
Muffling the sound of their oars by placing straw in the rowlocks, and avoiding the least unnecessary noise, the men skilfully propelled the boat along the outline of the water tinged by the crustacea, so that while the starboard oars still dipped in the green and limpid sea, the larboard were in the deep-dyed waves, and seemed as though they were dripping with blood.
"Wine on this side, water on that," said one of the sailors jocosely.
"But neither of them fit to drink," rejoined the captain sharply, "so just hold your tongue!"
Under Howick's guidance the boat now glided stealthily
[Illustration: The whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it]
on to the greasy surface of the reddened waters, where she appeared to float as on a pool of oil. The whale seemed utterly unconscious of the attack that was threatening it, and allowed the boat to come nearer without exhibiting any sign of alarm.
The wide circuit which the captain had thought it advisable to take had the effect of considerably increasing the distance between his boat and the "Pilgrim," whilst the strange rapidity with which objects at sea become diminished in apparent magnitude, as if viewed through the wrong end of a telescope, made the ship look farther away than she actually was.
Another half-hour elapsed, and at the end of it the captain found himself so exactly to leeward that the huge body of the whale was precisely intermediate between his boat and the "Pilgrim." A closer approach must now be made; every precaution must be used; but the time had come to get sufficiently near for the harpoon to be discharged.
"Slowly, my men," said the captain, in a low voice; "slowly and softly!"
Howick muttered something that implied that the whale had ceased blowing so hard, and that it was aware of their approach; the captain, upon this, enjoined the most perfect silence, but urged his crew onwards, until, in five or six minutes, they were within a cable's length of the finback. Erect at the stern the boatswain stood, and manoeuvred to get the boat as close as possible to the whale's left flank, while he made it an object of special care to keep beyond the reach of its formidable tail, one stroke of which could involve them all in instantaneous disaster.
The manipulation of the boat thus left to the boatswain, the captain made ready for the arduous effort that was before him. At the extreme bow, harpoon in hand, with his legs somewhat astride so as to insure his equilibrium, he stood prepared to plunge his weapon into the mass that rose above the surface of the sea. By his side, coiled in a pail, and with one end firmly attached to the harpoon, was the first of the five lines which if the whale should dive to a considerable depth, would have to be joined end to end, one after another .
"Are you ready, my lads?" said he, hardly above a whisper.
"Ay, ay, sir," replied Howick, speaking as gently as his master, and giving a firmer grip to the rudder-oar that he held in his hands.
"Then, alongside at once," was the captain's order, which was promptly obeyed, so that in a few minutes the boat was only about ten feet from the body of the whale. The animal did not move. Was it asleep? In that case there was hope that the very first stroke might be fatal. But it was hardly likely. Captain Hull felt only too sure that there was some different cause to be assigned for its remaining so still and stationary; and the rapid glances of the boatswain showed that he entertained the same suspicion. But it was no time for speculation; the moment for action had arrived, and no attempt was made on either hand to exchange ideas upon the subject.
Captain Hull seized his weapon tightly by the shaft, and having poised it several times in the air, in order to make more sure of his aim, he gathered all his strength and hurled it against the side of the finback.
"Backwater!" he shouted.
The sailors pushed back with all their might, and the boat in an instant was beyond the range of the creature's tail.
And now the immoveableness of the animal was at once accounted for.
"See; there's a youngster!" exclaimed Howick.
And he was not mistaken. Startled by the blow of the harpoon the monster had heeled over on to its side, and the movement revealed a young whale which the mother had been disturbed in the act of suckling. It was a discovery which made Captain Hull aware that the capture of the whale would be attended with double difficulty; he knew; that she would defend "her little one" (if such a term can be applied to a creature that was at least twenty feet long) with the most determined fury; yet having made what he considered a successful commencement of the attack, he would not be daunted, nor deterred from his endeavour to secure so fine a prize.
The whale did not, as sometimes happens, make a precipitate dash upon the boat, a proceeding which necessitates the instant cutting of the harpoon-line, and an immediate retreat, but it took the far more usual course of diving downwards almost perpendicularly. It was followed by its calf; very soon, however, after rising once again to the surface with a sudden bound, it began swimming along under water with great rapidity.
Before its first plunge Captain Hull and Howick had sufficient opportunity to observe that it was an unusually large balaenoptera, measuring at least eighty feet from head to tail, its colour being of a yellowish-brown, dappled with numerous spots of a darker shade.
The pursuit, or what may be more aptly termed "the towing," of the whale had now fairly commenced. The sailors had shipped their oars, and the whale-boat darted like an arrow along the surface of the waves. In spite of the oscillation, which was very violent, Howick succeeded in maintaining equilibrium, and did not need the repeated injunctions with which the agitated captain urged his boatswain to be upon his guard.
But fast as the boat flew along, she could not keep pace with the whale, and so rapidly did the line run out that except proper care had been taken to keep the bucket in which it was coiled filled with water, the friction against the edge of the boat would inevitably have caused it to take fire. The whale gave no indication of moderating its speed, so that the first line was soon exhausted, and the second had to be attached to its end, only to be run out with like rapidity. In a few minutes more it was necessary to join on the third line; it was evident that the whale had not been hit in a vital part, and so far from rising to the surface, the oblique direction of the rope indicated that the creature was seeking yet greater depths.
"Confound it!" exclaimed the captain; "it seems as if the brute is going to run out all our line."
"Yes; and see what a distance the animal is dragging us away from the 'Pilgrim,' " answered Howick.
"Sooner or later, however," said Captain Hull, "the thing must come to the surface; she is not a fish, you know."
"She is saving her breath for the sake of her speed," said one of the sailors with a grin.
But grin as he might, both he and his companions began to look serious when the fourth line had to be added to the third, and more serious still when the fifth was added to the fourth. The captain even began to mutter imprecations upon the refractory brute that was putting their patience to so severe a test.
The last line was nearly all uncoiled, and the general consternation was growing very great, when there was observed to be a slight slackening in the tension.
"Thank Heaven!" cried the captain; "the beast has tired herself out at last."
Casting his eye towards the "Pilgrim," he saw at a glance that she could not be less than five miles to leeward. It was a long distance, but when, according to his arrangement, he had hoisted the flag on the boat-hook which was to be the signal for the ship to approach, he had the satisfaction of seeing that Dick Sands and the negroes at once began bracing the yards to get as near as possible to the wind. The breeze, however, blew only in short, unsteady puffs, and it was only too evident that the "Pilgrim" would have considerable difficulty in working her way to the whale-boat, even if she succeeded at last.
Meantime, just as had been expected, the whale had risen to the surface of the water, the harpoon still fixed firmly in her side. She remained motionless, apparently waiting for her calf, which she had far out-distanced in her mad career. Captain Hull ordered his men to pull towards her as rapidly as they could, and on getting close up, two of the sailors, following the captain's example, shipped their oars and took up the long lances with which the whale was now to be attacked. Howick held himself in readiness to sheer off quickly in the event of the finback making a turn towards the boat.
"Now, my lads!" shouted the captain. "Look out! take a good aim! no false shots! Are you ready, Howick?"
"Quite ready, captain," answered the boatswain, adding, "but it perplexes me altogether to see the brute so quiet all of a sudden."
"It looks suspicious," said the captain; "but never mind; go on! straight ahead!"
Captain Hull was becoming more excited every moment.
During the time the boat was approaching, the whale had only turned round a little in the water without changing its position. It was evidently still looking for its calf, which was not to be seen by its side. All of a sudden it gave a jerk with its tail which carried it some few yards away.
The men were all excited. Was the beast going to escape again? Was the fatiguing pursuit all to come over a second time? Must not the chase be abandoned? Would not the prize have to be given up?
But no: the whale was not starting on another flight; it had merely turned so as to face the boat, and now rapidly beating the water with its enormous fins, it commenced a frantic dash forwards.
"Look out, Howick, she's coming!" shouted Captain Hull.
The skilful boatswain was all on the alert; the boat swerved, as if by instinct, so as to avoid the blow, and as the whale passed furiously by, she received three tremendous thrusts from the lances of the captain and the two men, who all endeavoured to strike at some vital part. There was a sudden pause. The whale spouted up two gigantic columns of blood and water, lashed its tail, and, with bounds and plunges that were terrible to behold, renewed its angry attack upon the boat.
None but the most determined of whalemen could fail to lose their head under such an assault. Calm and collected, however, the crew remained. Once again did Howick adroitly sheer aside, and once again did the three lances do their deadly work upon the huge carcase as it rolled impetuously past; but this time, so great was the wave that was caused by the infuriated animal, that the boat was well-nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized.
"Bale away, men!" cried the captain.
Putting down their oars, the other sailors set to work baling with all their might. Captain Hull cut the harpoon-line, now no longer required, because the whale, maddened with pain and grief for the loss of its offspring, would certainly make no further attempt to escape, but would fight desperately to the very end.
The finback was obviously bent on a third onslaught upon the boat, which, being in spite of all the men's exertions still more than half full of water, no longer answered readily to the rudder-oar.
No one thought of flight. The swiftest boat could be overtaken in a very few bounds. There was no alternative but to face the encounter. It was not long in coming. Their previous good fortune failed them. The whale in passing caught the boat with such a violent blow from its dorsal fin, that the men lost their footing and the lances missed their mark.
"Where's Howick?" screamed the captain in alarm.
"Here I am, captain; all right!" replied the boatswain, who had scrambled to his feet only to find that the oar with which he had been steering was snapped in half.
"The rudder's smashed," he said.
"Take another, Howick; quick!" cried the captain.
But scarcely had he time to replace the broken oar, when a bubbling was heard a few yards away from the boat, and the young whale made its appearance on the surface of the sea. Catching sight of it instantly, the mother made a fresh dash in its direction, the maternal instincts were aroused, and the contest must become more deadly than ever.
Captain Hull looked towards the "Pilgrim," and waved his signal frantically above his head. It was, however, with
[Illustration: The boat was well nigh full of water, and in imminent danger of being capsized]
no hope of succour; he was only too well aware that no human efforts could effectually hasten the arrival of the ship. Dick Sands indeed had at once obeyed the first summons: already the wind was filling the sails, but in default of steam power her progress at best could not be otherwise than slow. Not only did Dick feel convinced that it would be a useless waste of time to lower a boat and come off with the negroes to the rescue, but he remembered the strict orders he had received on no account to quit the ship. Captain Hull, however, could perceive that the apprentice had had the aft-boat lowered, and was towing it along, so that it should be in readiness for a refuge as soon as they should get within reach.
But the whale, close at hand, demanded attention that could ill be spared for the yet distant ship. Covering her young one with her body, she was manifestly designing another charge full upon the boat.
"On your guard, Howick! sheer off!" bellowed the captain.
But the order was useless. The fresh oar that the boatswain had taken to replace the broken one was considerably shorter, and consequently it failed in lever-power. There was, in fact, no helm for the boat to answer. The sailors saw the failure, and convinced that all was lost uttered one long, despairing cry that might have been heard on board the "Pilgrim." Another moment, and from beneath there came a tremendous blow from the monster's tail that sent the boat flying in the air. In fragments it fell back again into a sea that was lashed into fury by the angry flapping of the finback's fins.
Was it not possible for the unfortunate men, bleeding and wounded as they were, still to save themselves by clinging to some floating spar? Captain Hull is indeed seen endeavouring to hoist the boatswain on to a drifting plank. But all in vain. There is no hope. The whale, writhing in the convulsions of death, returns yet once again to the attack; the waters around the struggling sailors seethe and foam. A brief turmoil follows as if there were the bursting of some vast waterspout.
In a quarter of an hour afterwards, Dick Sands, with the negroes, reaches the scene of the catastrophe. All is still and desolate. Every living object has vanished. Nothing is visible except a few fragments of the whale-boat floating on the blood-stained water.
[Illustration: There is no hope.]
CHAPTER IX.
DICK'S PROMOTION.
The first feeling experienced by those on board the "Pilgrim," after witnessing the terrible disaster was one of grief and horror at the fearful death that had befallen the victims. Captain Hull and his men had been swept away before their very eyes, and they had been powerless to assist. Not one was saved; the schooner had reached the spot too late to offer the least resistance to the attacks of the formidable sea-monster.
When Dick and the negroes returned to the ship after their hopeless search, with only the corroboration of their sad foreboding that captain and crew had disappeared for ever, Mrs. Weldon sank upon her knees; little Jack knelt beside her crying bitterly; and Dick, old Nan, and all the negroes stood reverently around her whilst with great devoutness the lady offered up the prayer of commendation for the souls of the departing. All sympathized heartily with her supplications, nor was there any diminution of their fervour when she proceeded to implore that the survivors might have strength and courage for their own hour of need.
The situation was indeed very grave. Here was the "Pilgrim" in the middle of the Pacific, hundreds of miles away from the nearest land, without captain, without crew, at the mercy of the wind and waves. It was a strange fatality that had brought the whale across their path; it was a fatality stranger still that had induced her captain, a man of no ordinary prudence, to risk even his life for the sake of making good a deficient cargo. It was an event almost unknown in the annals of whale-fishing that not a single man in the whale-boat should escape alive; nevertheless, it was all too true; and now, of all those left on board, Dick Sands, the apprentice-boy of fifteen years of age, was the sole individual who had the slightest knowledge of the management of a ship; the negroes, brave and willing as they were, were perfectly ignorant of seamen's duties; and, to crown all, here was a lady with her child on board, for whose safety the commander of the vessel would be held responsible.
Such were the facts which presented themselves to the mind of Dick as, with folded arms, he stood gazing gloomily at the spot where Captain Hull, his esteemed benefactor, had sunk to rise no more. The lad raised his eyes sadly; he scanned the horizon with the vain hope that he might perchance descry some passing vessel to which he could confide Mrs. Weldon and her son; for himself, his mind was made up; he had already resolved that nothing should induce him to quit the "Pilgrim" until he had exhausted every energy in trying to carry her into port.
The ocean was all deserted. Since the disappearance of the whale nothing had broken the monotonous surface either of sea or sky. The apprentice, short as his experience was, knew enough to be aware that he was far out of the common track alike of merchantmen or whalers; he would not buoy himself up with false expectations; he would look his situation full and fairly in the face; he would do his best, and trust hopefully in guidance from the Power above.
Thus absorbed in his meditations he did not observe that he was not alone. Negoro, who had gone below immediately after the catastrophe, had again come back upon deck. What this mysterious character had felt upon witnessing the awful calamity it would be impossible to say. Although with his eye he had keenly taken in every detail of the melancholy spectacle, every muscle of, his face had remained unmoved; not a gesture, not a word betrayed the least emotion. Even if he had heard, he had taken no part, nor evinced the faintest interest in Mrs. Weldon's outpouring of prayer.
He had made his way to the stern, where Dick Sands was pondering over the responsibilities of his own position, and stood looking towards the apprentice without interrupting his reverie.
Catching sight of him, Dick roused himself in an instant, and said,-
"You want to speak to me?"
"I must speak either to the captain or the boatswain," answered the man.
"Negoro," said Dick sharply, "you know as well as I do, that they are both drowned."
"Then where am I to get my orders from?" asked the fellow insolently.
"From me," promptly rejoined the apprentice.
"From you! from a boy of fifteen?"
"Yes, from me," repeated Dick, in a firm and resolute voice, looking at the man until he recoiled under his gaze. "From me"
Mrs. Weldon had heard what passed.
"I wish every one on board to understand," she interposed, "that Dick Sands is captain now. Orders must be taken from him, and they must be obeyed."
Negoro frowned, bit his lip, sneered, and having muttered something that was unintelligible, made his way back to his cabin.
Meantime, the schooner under the freshening breeze had been carried beyond the shoal of the crustaceans. Dick cast his eye first at the sails, then along the deck, and seemed to become more and more alive to the weight of the obligation that had fallen upon him; but his heart did not fail him; he was conscious that the hopes of the passengers centred in himself, and he was determined to let them see that he would do his best not to disappoint them.
Although he was satisfied of his capability, with the help of the negroes, to manipulate the sails, he was conscious of a defect of the scientific knowledge which was requisite for properly controlling the ship's course. He felt the want of a few more years' experience. If only he had had longer practice he would, he thought, have been as able as Captain Hull himself, to use the sextant, to take the altitude of the stars, to read the time from his chronometer; sun, moon, and planets, should have been his guides; from the firmament, as from a dial-plate, he would have gathered the teachings of his true position; but all this was beyond him as yet; his knowledge went no further than the use of the log and compass, and by these alone he must be content to make his reckonings. But he kept up his courage, and did not permit himself for one moment to despair of ultimate success.
Mrs. Weldon needed little penetration to recognize the thoughts which were passing in the mind of the resolute youth.
"I see you have come to your decision, Dick," she said. "The command of the ship is in your hands; no fear but that you will do your duty; and Tom, and the rest of them, no doubt, will render you every assistance in their power."
"Yes, Mrs. Weldon," rejoined Dick brightly; "and before long I shall hope to make them good seamen. If only the weather lasts fair, everything will go on well enough; and if the weather turns out bad, we must not despond; we will get safe ashore."
He paused a moment and added reverently,-
"God helping us."
Mrs. Weldon proceeded to inquire whether he had any means of ascertaining the "Pilgrim's" present position. He replied that the ship's chart would at once settle that. Captain Hull had kept the reckoning accurately right up to the preceding day.
"And what do you propose to do next?" she asked. "Of course you understand that in our present circumstances we are not in the least bound to go to Valparaiso if there is a nearer port which we could reach."
"Certainly not," replied Dick; "and therefore it is my intention to sail due east, as by following that course we
[Illustration: "Oh, we shall soon be on shore!">[
are sure to come upon some part of the American coast."
"Do your best, Dick, to let us get ashore somewhere."
"Never fear, madam," he answered; "as we get nearer land we shall be almost sure to fall in with a cruiser which will put us into the right track. If the wind does but remain in the north-west, and allow us to carry plenty of sail, we shall get on famously."
He spoke with the cheery confidence of a good sailor who knows the good ship beneath his feet. He had moved off a few steps to go and take the helm, when Mrs. Weldon, calling him back, reminded him that he had not yet ascertained the true position of the schooner. Dick confessed that it ought to be done at once, and going to the captain's cabin brought out the chart upon which the ill-fated commander had marked the bearings the evening before. According to this dead-reckoning they were in lat. 43° 35', S., and long. 164° 13', W.; and as the schooner had made next to no progress during the last twenty-four eventful hours, the entry might fairly be accepted as representing approximately their present position.
To the lady's inexperienced eye, as she bent over the outspread chart, it seemed that the land, as represented by the brown patch which depicted the continent of South America extending like a barrier between two oceans from Cape Horn to Columbia, was, after all, not so very far distant; the wide space of the Pacific was not so broad but that it would be quickly traversed.
"Oh, we shall soon be on shore!" she said.
But Dick knew better. He had acquaintance enough with the scale upon which the chart was constructed to be aware that the "Pilgrim" herself would have been a speck like a microscopic infusoria on the vast surface of that sea, and that hundreds and hundreds of weary miles separated her from the coast.
No time was to be lost. Contrary winds had ceased to blow; a fresh north-westerly breeze had sprung up, and the cirri, or curl-cloud: overhead indicated that for some time at least the direction of the wind would be unchanged.
Dick appealed to the negroes, and tried to make them appreciate the difficulty of the task that had fallen to his lot. Tom answered, in behalf of himself and all the rest, that they were not only willing, but anxious, to do all they could to assist him, saying that if their knowledge was small, yet their arms were strong, and added that they should certainly be obedient to every order he gave.
"My friends," said Dick, addressing them in reply; "I shall make it a point of myself taking the helm as much as possible. But you know I must have my proper rest sometimes. No one can live without sleep. Now, Tom, I intend you to stand by me for the remainder of the day. I will try and make you understand how to steer by the aid of the compass. It is not difficult. You will soon learn. I shall have to leave you when I go to my hammock for an hour or two."
"Is there nothing," said little Jack, "that I can learn to do?"
"Oh yes, Jack; you shall keep the wind in order," answered Dick, smiling.
"That I will!" cried the child, clapping his hands, while the mother drew him to her side.
"And now, my men," was Dick's first order to his crew, we must brace in the yards to sail fair. I will show you how."
"All right, Captain Sands; we are at your service," said old Tom gravely.
[Illustration: "Oh yes, Jack; you shall keep the wind in order.">[
CHAPTER X.
THE NEW CREW.
Dick Sands, captain of the "Pilgrim," would not lose a moment in getting his ship under sail. His prime object was to land his passengers safely at Valparaiso or some other American port, and to accomplish his purpose it was in the first place necessary that he should ascertain the schooner's rate of speed and the direction that she was taking. This information was to be obtained readily enough by means of the log and compass, and the result of each day's observations would be entered regularly on the chart.
The log on board was a patent log, with a dial-plate and screw, by means of which the distance that is travelled can be measured accurately for any definite time; it was an instrument so simple that the negroes were very soon taught its use. The slight error in the reckoning caused by the action of the currents could only be rectified by astronomical observations, which, as already has been stated, were beyond Dick's attainments to make.
The idea more than once crossed Dick's mind whether he would not take the "Pilgrim" back again to New Zealand; the distance was considerably less than it was to America, and had the wind remained in the quarter whence it had been blowing so long, it is more than likely he would have determined to retrace his course. But as the wind had now veered to the north-west, and there was every probability that it was settled for a time, he came to the conclusion that he had better take advantage of it and persevere in making his way towards the east. Accordingly he lost no time in putting his ship before the wind.
On a schooner the fore-mast usually carries four square sails; on the lower mast a fore-sail; on the top-mast a top-sail; on the top-gallant a top-gallant-sail and a royal. The main-mast carries only a main-sail and a top-sail. Between the masts upon the fore-stays can be hoisted a triple tier of triangular sails; while the bowsprit with its jib-boom will carry the three jibs.
The jibs, the main-sail, the main-top-sail and the staysails are all managed with comparative ease, because they can be hoisted from the deck without the necessity of ascending the mast to let fly the robbins, by which they are fastened to the yards. With the sails on the fore-mast it is altogether a more difficult business. In order either to unfurl them, to take them in, or to reef them, it is necessary for a man to clamber up by the shrouds, either to the fore-top, or to the top-gallant cross-trees, and thence mounting by loose ropes, extended below the yards, to hold on by one hand whilst he does his work with the other. The operation requires alike the head and arm of an experienced mariner; and when a fresh breeze has been blowing, it is a casualty far from uncommon that a sailor, confused by the flapping of the canvas and the pitching of the vessel, should be blown overboard in the act. For the unpractised negroes the danger would necessarily be very great. However, the wind at present was very moderate, and the ship ploughed her way over the waves without any violent oscillations.
At the time when Dick Sands, in obedience to the signal he received from Captain Hull, proceeded to make his way to the scene of the disaster, the "Pilgrim," as she lay to, was carrying only her jibs, main-sail, fore-sail, and fore-top-sail. In order, therefore, to put her as near as possible to the wind, it had been merely necessary to counter-brace the fore-sail yard, a manoeuvre in which the negroes had rendered all the assistance that was necessary. It was requisite now to do something more. To enable him to get straight before the wind Dick wanted to increase his sail, and was desirous of hoisting the top-gallant, the royal, the main-top-sail, and the stay-sails.
He was himself standing at the wheel.
"Now, my men," he shouted to the negroes; "I want your help. Do exactly as I tell you. Bear away, Tom!"
Tom looked puzzled.
"Bear away! unfasten that rope, I mean. And, Bat, come along; do the same as Tom."
The men did what they were bidden.
"That's right!" continued Dick, and calling to Hercules, said,-
"Now, Hercules; a good strong pull!"
To give such a direction to Hercules was somewhat imprudent; the rigging creaked again under his giant strength.
"Gently, gently, my good fellow!" said Dick, laughing; "you will have the mast down."
"I declare I hardly touched the rope," answered Hercules.
"Well, next time, you must only pretend to touch it," said Dick; and, continuing his orders, shouted, "Now slacken! let fly! make fast! now brace in the yards! all right! that's capital!"
The yards were loosened, the foresails turned slowly round, and, catching the breeze, gave a slight impetus to the ship. Dick's next orders were for the jib-sheets to be set free, and then he called the men to the stern.
"Now," said he; "we must look to the main-mast; but take care, Hercules, not to have it down."
"I will be as careful as possible, Mr. Dick," submissively replied Hercules, as though he were afraid to commit himself to any rash promise.
The manoeuvre was simple enough. The main-sheet was gradually slackened, the great sail took the wind and added its powerful action to that of the fore-sails. The main-top-sail was next brought to bear; it was only clewed up, so that there was nothing to do except to pull the halyards, haul it aboard the tack, and unfurl it. But in pulling at the halyards the muscular energy of Hercules, which was supplemented by that of Actæon, not to forget little Jack, who had volunteered his assistance, proved to be overpowering, and the rope snapped in two. All three of them, of course, fell flat upon the deck; but fortunately neither of them was hurt, and Jack laughed heartily at his tumble as an excellent joke.
"Up with you!" cried Captain Dick; "there's no harm done; splice the rope, and haul away more gently next time."
It took but a few minutes to execute the order, and the "Pilgrim" was soon sailing away rapidly with her head to the east.
"Well done, my friends!" said Dick, who had not left his post at the helm; "you will be first-rate sailors before the end of the voyage."
"We shall do our best, I promise you, Captain Sands," replied Tom, making it a point to give the young commander his proper title.
Mrs. Weldon also congratulated the new crew upon the success of their first attempt.
"I believe it was Master Jack who broke that rope," said Hercules, with a sly twinkle in his eye; "he is very strong, I can tell you."
Jack looked as though he thoroughly appreciated the compliment, and evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand.
There were still several sails that were not yet set. Running well before the wind as the "Pilgrim" was, Dick nevertheless felt that the gallant, royal, and stay-sails, if brought into service, would materially assist her progress, and he determined not to dispense with their help. The stay-sails could be hoisted from below, but to bring the gallant and royal into play demanded more experience than any of his crew had had. Knowing that he could not entrust the task to them, and yet resolved not to be baulked of his wish to set them, he undertook the task himself. He first put Tom to the helm, showing him how
[Illustration: All three of them fell flat upon the deck.]
to keep the schooner's head in the right direction, and having placed the other four at the royal and top-gallant halyards, proceeded to mount the foremast.
To clamber up the foreshrouds and the top-shrouds on to the cross-trees was mere child's play to the active apprentice. In a few minutes he had unfurled the top-gallant-sail, mounted to the royal-yard, unfurled the royal, again reached the cross-trees, and having caught hold of one of the starboard backstays, had descended to the deck; there he gave the necessary directions, and the two sails were made fast, and both yards braced.
Nor did this content him. The stay-sails were set between the masts, and thus the "Pilgrim" was running along, crowded to the full, with all her canvas. The only additional sails which Dick could possibly have employed would have been some studding-sails to larboard, but as the setting of these was a matter of some difficulty, and they were not always readily struck in the case of a sudden squall, he contented himself without them.
Again he took his place at the helm. The breeze was manifestly freshening, and the "Pilgrim," almost imperceptibly heeling to starboard, glided rapidly along the surface of the water, leaving behind her a wake, smooth and clean, that bore plain witness to the true adjustment of her water-line.
"This is good progress, Mrs. Weldon," he said; "may Heaven grant the wind and weather may continue thus favourable!"
The lady, in silence, shook the boy's hand; and then, worn-out with the excitement of the past hours, went to her cabin, where she lay down and fell into a troubled doze.
The new crew remained on watch. They were stationed on the forecastle, in readiness to make any alteration which the sails might require, but the wind was so steady and unshifting that no need arose for their services.
And Cousin Benedict? all this time, where was he? and what had he been doing?
He was sitting in his cabin; he had a magnifying-glass in his hand and was studying an articulata of the order orthoptera, an insect of the Blattidae family; its characteristics are a roundish body, rather long wings, flat elytra, and a head hidden by the prothorax. He had been on deck at the time of the calamity; the ill-fated captain with the crew had been drowned before his very eyes; but he said nothing; not that he was unmoved; to think that he was not struck with horror would be to libel his kind and pitying nature. His sympathy was aroused, especially for his cousin; he pressed her hand warmly as if he would assure her of his truest commiseration; but he said nothing; he hurried off towards his cabin; and who shall deny that it was to devise some wonderfully energetic measures that he would take in consequence of this melancholy event?
Passing the kitchen, however, he caught sight of Negoro in the act of crushing a blatta, an American species of cockroach. He broke out into a storm of invective, and in tones of indignation demanded the surrender of the insect, which Negoro made with cool contempt. In a moment Captain Hull and his partners in death were all forgotten; the enthusiast had secured a prize with which he hastened to his own little compartment, where he was soon absorbed in proving to his own satisfaction, in opposition to the opinion of other entomologists, that the blattae of the phoraspous species, which are remarkable for their colours, differ in their habits from blattae of the ordinary sort.
For the remainder of the day perfect order reigned on board the "Pilgrim." Though they were unable to shake off the sickening feeling of horror roused by the frightful disaster, and felt that they had sustained a startling shock, all the passengers seemed mechanically to fall into their usual routine. Dick Sands, though avowedly at the wheel, seemed to be everywhere, with an eye for every thing, and his amateur crew obeyed him readily, and with the promptness of a willing activity.
Negoro made no further overt attempt to question the young captain's authority, but remained shut up in his kitchen. Dick made no secret of his determination to place the cook in close confinement if he exhibited any
[Illustration: Jack evidenced his satisfaction by giving his huge friend a hearty shake of the hand.]
future sign of insubordination. Hercules was ready to carry him off bodily to the hold, and old Nan was equally ready to take his place in the cooking department. Probably Negoro was aware of all this; at any rate he did not seem disposed to give any further cause of offence at present.
As the day advanced the wind continued to freshen; but no shifting of the sails seemed necessary. The "Pilgrim" was running well. There was no need to diminish her spread of canvas. Masts as solid and rigging as strong as hers could stand a far heavier breeze.
As a general rule, it is deemed prudent in case of a squall to shorten sail at night, and especially to take in gallants and royal; but the weather prospects now were all so promising and satisfactory that Dick persuaded himself he was under no necessity to take this precaution; he rather felt himself bound to take the strongest measures he could to expedite his reaching less unfrequented waters. He made up his mind, however, not to leave the deck at all that night.
The young captain made every effort to get an approximate reckoning of the schooner's progress. He heaved the log every half-hour and duly registered the result of each successive examination. There were two compasses on board; one in the binnacle, close under the eye of the helmsman, the other, an inverted compass, being attached to the rafters of the captain's cabin, so that without leaving his berth he could see whether the man in charge of the wheel was holding a proper course.
Every vessel that is duly furnished for a lengthened voyage has always not only two compasses but two chronometers, one to correct the other. The "Pilgrim" was not deficient in this respect, and Dick Sands made a strong point of admonishing his crew that they should take especial care of the compasses, which under their present circumstances were of such supreme importance.
A misfortune, however, was in store for them. On the night of the 12th, while Dick was on watch, the compass in the cabin became detached from its fastening and fell on the floor. The accident was not discovered until the following morning. Whether the metal ferule that had attached the instrument to the rafters had become rusty, or whether it had been worn away by additional friction it seemed impossible to settle. All that could be said was that the compass was broken beyond repair. Dick was extremely grieved at the loss; but he did not consider that any one was to be blamed for the mishap, and could only resolve for the future to take extra care of the compass in the binnacle.
With the exception of this contretemps, everything appeared to go on satisfactorily on board. Mrs. Weldon, reassured by Dick's confidence, had regained much of her wonted calmness, and was besides ever supported by a sincere religious spirit. She and Dick had many a long conversation together. The ingenuous lad was always ready to take the kind and intelligent lady into his counsel, and day by day would point out to her on the chart the registers he made as the result of his dead reckoning; he would then try and satisfy her that under the prevailing wind there could be no doubt they must arrive at the coast of South America: moreover, he said that, unless he was much mistaken, they should sight the land at no great distance from Valparaiso.
Mrs. Weldon had, in truth, no reason to question the correctness of Dick's representations; she owned that provided the wind remained in the same favourable quarter, there was every prospect of their reaching land in safety; nevertheless at times she could not resist the misgiving that would arise when she contemplated what might be the result of a change of wind or a breaking of the weather.
With the light-heartedness that belonged to his age, Jack soon fell back into his accustomed pursuits, and was to be seen merrily running over the deck or romping with Dingo. At times, it is true, he missed the companionship of Dick; but his mother made him comprehend that now that Dick, was captain, his time was too much occupied to allow him; any leisure for play, and the child quite understood that he must not interrupt his old friend in his new duties.
[Illustration: A light shadow glided stealthily along the deck.]
The negroes performed their work with intelligence, and seemed to make rapid progress in the art of seamanship. Tom had been unanimously appointed boatswain, and took one watch with Bat and Austin, the alternate watch being discharged by Dick himself with Hercules and Actæon. One of them steered so that the other two were free to watch at the bows. As a general rule Dick Sands managed to remain at the wheel all night; five or six hours' sleep in the daytime sufficed for him, and during the time when he was lying down he entrusted the wheel to Tom or Bat, who under his instructions had become very fair helmsmen. Although in these unfrequented waters there was little chance of running foul of any other vessel, Dick invariably took the precaution of lighting his signals, carrying a green light to starboard and a red light to port. His exertions, however, were a great strain upon him, and sometimes during the night his fatigue would induce a heavy drowsiness, and he steered, as it were, by instinct more than by attention.
On the night of the 13th, he was so utterly worn-out that he was obliged to ask Tom to relieve him at the helm whilst he went down for a few hours' rest. Actæon and Hercules remained on watch on the forecastle.
The night was very dark; the sky was covered with heavy clouds that had formed in the chill evening air, and the sails on the top-masts were lost in the obscurity. At the stern, the lamps on either side of the binnacle cast a faint reflection on the metal mountings of the wheel, leaving the deck generally in complete darkness.
Towards three o'clock in the morning Tom was getting so heavy with sleepiness that he was almost unconscious. His eye, long fixed steadily on the compass, lost its power of vision, and he fell into a doze from which it would require more than a slight disturbance to arouse him.
Meantime a light shadow glided stealthily along the deck. Creeping gradually up to the binnacle, Negoro put down something heavy that he had brought in his hand. He stole a keen and rapid glance at the dial of the compass, and made his way back, unseen and unheard as he had come.
Almost immediately afterwards, Tom awakened from his slumber. His eye fell instinctively on the compass, and he saw in a moment that the ship was out of her proper course. By a turn of the helm he brought her head to what he supposed to be the east. But he was mistaken. During his brief interval of unconsciousness a piece of iron had been deposited beneath the magnetic needle, which by this means had been diverted thirty degrees to the right, and, instead of pointing due north, inclined far towards north-east.
Consequently it came to pass that the "Pilgrim," supposed by her young commander to be making good headway due east, was in reality, under the brisk north-west breeze, speeding along towards the south-east.
CHAPTER XI.
ROUGH WEATHER.
During the ensuing week nothing particular occurred on board. The breeze still freshened, and the "Pilgrim" made on the average 160 miles every twenty-four hours. The speed was as great as could be expected from a craft of her size.
Dick grew more and more sanguine in his anticipations that it could not be long before the schooner would cross the track of the mail-packets plying between the eastern and western hemispheres. He had made up his mind to hail the first passing vessel, and either to transfer his passengers, or what perhaps would be better still, to borrow a few sailors, and, it might be, an officer to work the "Pilgrim" to shore. He could not help, however, a growing sense of astonishment, when day after day passed, and yet there was no ship to be signalled. He kept the most vigourous look-out, but all to no purpose. Three voyages before had he made to the whale-fisheries, and his experience made him sure that he ought now to be sighting some English or American vessel on its way between the Equator and Cape Horn.
Very different, however, was the true position of the "Pilgrim" from what Dick supposed; not only had the ship been carried far out of her direct course by currents, the force of which there were no means of estimating, but from the moment when the compass had been tampered with by Negoro, the steering itself had put the vessel all astray.
Unconscious of both these elements of disturbance, Dick Sands was convinced that they were proceeding steadily eastwards, and was perpetually encouraging Mrs. Weldon and himself by the assurance that they must very soon arrive within view of the American coast; again and again asserting that his sole concern was for his passengers, and that for his own safety he had no anxiety.
"But think, Dick," said the lady, "what a position you would have been in, if you had not had your passengers. You would have been alone with that terrible Negoro; you would have been rather alarmed then."
"I should have taken good care to put it out of Negoro's power to do me any mischief, and then I should have worked the ship by myself," answered the lad stoutly.
His very pluck gave Mrs. Weldon renewed confidence. She was a woman with wonderful powers of endurance, and it was only when she thought of her little son that she had any feeling of despair; yet even this she endeavoured to conceal, and Dick's undaunted courage helped her.
Although the youth of the apprentice did not allow him to pretend to any advanced scientific knowledge, he had the proverbial "weather-eye" of the sailor. He was not only very keen in noticing any change in the aspect of the sky, but he had learnt from Captain Hull, who was a clever meteorologist, to draw correct conclusions from the indications of the barometer; the captain, indeed, having taken the trouble to make him learn by heart the general rules which are laid down in Vorepierre's Dictionnaire Illustré.
There are seven of these rules:-
1. If after a long period of fine weather the barometer falls suddenly and continuously, although the mercury may be descending for two or three days before there is an apparent change in the atmosphere, there will ultimately be rain; and the longer has been the time between the first depression and the commencement of the rain, the longer the rain may be expected to last.
2. Vice versâ, if after a long period of wet weather the barometer begins to rise slowly and steadily, fine weather will ensue; and the longer the time between the first rising of the mercury and the commencement of the fine weather, the longer the fine weather may be expected to last.
3. If immediately after the fall or rise of the mercury a change of weather ensues, the change will be of no long continuance.[1]
4. A gradual rise for two or three days during rain forecasts fine weather; but if there be a fall immediately on the arrival of the fine weather, it will not be for long. This rule holds also conversely.
5. In spring and autumn a sudden fall indicates rain; in the summer, if very hot, it foretells a storm. In the winter, after a period of steady frost, a fall prognosticates a change of wind with rain and hail; whilst a rise announces the approach of snow.
6. Rapid oscillations of the mercury either way are not to be interpreted as indicating either wet or dry weather of any duration; continuance of either fair or foul weather is forecast only by a prolonged and steady rise or fall beforehand.
7. At the end of autumn, after a period of wind and rain, a rise may be expected to be followed by north wind and frost.
Not merely had Dick got these rules by rote, but he had tested them by his own observations, and had become singularly trustworthy in his forecasts of the weather. He made a point of consulting the barometer several times every day, and although to all appearances the sky indicated that the fine weather was settled, it did not escape his observation that on the 20th the mercury showed a tendency to fall. Dick knew that rain, if it came, would be accompanied by wind; an opinion in which he was very soon confirmed by the breeze freshening, till the air was displaced at the rate of nearly sixty feet a second, or more
[Footnote 1: This and several of the other rules are concisely concentrated in the couplet-
Long foretold, long last; Short notice, soon past. ]
than forty miles an hour; and he recognized the necessity of at once shortening sail. He had already used the precaution to take in the royal, the main-top-sail, and the flying jib, but he now at once resolved likewise to take in the top-gallant, and to have a couple of reefs in the foretop-sail.
To an inexperienced crew, the last operation was far from easy; but there was no symptom of shrinking from it. Followed by Bat and Austin, Dick mounted the rigging of the foremast, and with little trouble got to the top-gallant. Had the weather been less unpromising he would have been inclined to leave the two yards as they were, but anticipating the ultimate necessity of being obliged to lower the mast, he unrigged them, and let them down to the deck; he knew well enough that in the event of the gale rising as he expected, the lowering of the mast as well as the shortening of sail would contribute to diminish the strain and stress upon the vessel.
It was the work of two hours to get this preliminary operation over. There still remained the task of taking in the reefs in the top-sail.
The "Pilgrim" in one respect differed from most modern vessels. She did not carry a double foretop, which would very much have diminished the difficulty attending the reefing. It was consequently necessary to proceed as before; to mount the rigging, by main force to haul in the flapping canvas, and to make the fastening secure. But critical and dangerous as the task was, it was successfully accomplished, and the three young men, having descended safely to the deck, had the satisfaction of seeing the schooner run easily before the wind, which had further increased till it was blowing a stiff gale.
For three days the gale continued brisk and hard, yet without any variation in its direction. But all along the barometer was falling; the mercury sank to 28° without symptom of recovery. The sky was becoming overcast; clouds, thick and lowering, obscured the sun, and it was difficult to make out where it rose or where it set. Dick did his best to keep up his courage, but he could not disguise
[Illustration: For half an hour Negoro stood motionless.]
from himself that there was cause for uneasiness. He took no more rest than was absolutely necessary, and what repose he allowed himself he always took on deck; he maintained a calm exterior, but he was really tortured with anxiety.
Although the violence of the wind seemed to lull awhile, Dick did not suffer himself to be betrayed into any false security; he knew only too well what to expect, and after a brief interval of comparative quiet, the gale returned and the waves began to run very high.
About four o'clock one afternoon, Negoro (a most unusual thing for him) emerged from his kitchen, and skulked to the fore. Dingo was fast asleep, and did not make his ordinary growl by way of greeting to his enemy. For half an hour Negoro stood motionless, apparently surveying the horizon. The heavy waves rolled past; they were higher than the condition of the wind warranted; their magnitude witnessed to a storm passing in the west, and there was every reason to suspect that the "Pilgrim" might be caught by its violence.
Negoro looked long at the water; he then raised his eyes and scanned the sky. Above and below he might have read threatening signs. The upper stratum of cloud was travelling far more rapidly than that beneath, an indication that ere long the masses of vapour would descend, and, coming in contact with the inferior current, would change the gale into a tempest, which probably would increase to a hurricane.
It might be from ignorance or it might be from indifference, but there was no indication of alarm on the face of Negoro; on the other hand there might be seen a sort of smile curling on his lip. After thus gazing above him and around him, he clambered on to the bowsprit, and made his way by degrees to the very gammonings; again he rested and looked about him as if to explore the horizon; after a while he clambered back on deck, and soon stealthily retreated to his own quarters.
No doubt there was much to cause concern in the general aspect of the weather; but there was one point on which they never failed to congratulate each other;-that the direction of the wind had never changed, and consequently must be carrying them in the desired course. Unless a storm should overtake them, they could continue their present navigation without peril, and with every prospect of finding a port upon the shore where they might put in. Such were their mutual and acknowledged hopes; but Dick secretly felt the misgiving lest, without a pilot, he might in his ignorance fail to find a harbour of refuge. Nevertheless, he would not suffer himself to meet trouble half-way, and kept up his spirits under the conviction that if difficulties came he should be strengthened to grapple with them or make his escape.
Time passed on, and the 9th of March arrived without material change in the condition of the atmosphere. The sky remained heavily burdened, and the wind, which occasionally had abated for a few hours, had always returned with at least its former violence. The occasional rising of the mercury never encouraged Dick to anticipate a permanent improvement in the weather, and he discerned only too plainly that brighter times at present were not to be looked for.
A startling alarm had more than once been caused by the sudden breaking of storms in which thunderbolts had seemed to fall within a few cables' lengths of the schooner. On these occasions the torrents of rain had been so heavy that the ship had appeared to be in the very midst of a whirlpool of vapour, and it was impossible to see a yard ahead.
The "Pilgrim" pitched and rolled frightfully. Fortunately Mrs. Weldon could bear the motion without much personal inconvenience, and consequently was able to devote her attention to her little boy, who was a miserable sufferer. Cousin Benedict was as undisturbed as the cockroaches he was investigating; he hardly noticed the increasing madness of either wind or wave, but went on with his studies as calmly as if he were in his own comfortable museum at San Francisco. Moreover, it was fortunate that the negroes did not suffer to any great degree from sea-sickness, and consequently were able to assist their captain in his arduous task, Dick was far too experienced a sailor himself to be inconvenienced by any oscillations of the vessel, however violent.
The "Pilgrim" still made good headway, and Dick, although he was aware that ultimately it would probably be necessary again to shorten sail, was anxious to postpone making any alteration before he was absolutely obliged. Surely, he reasoned with himself, the land could not now be far away; he had calculated his speed; he had kept a diligent reckoning on the chart; surely, the shore must be almost in sight. He would not trust his crew to keep watch; he was aware how easily their inexperienced eyes would be misled, and how they might mistake a distant cloud-bank for the land they coveted to see; he kept watch for himself; his own gaze was ever fixed upon the horizon; and in the eagerness of his expectation he would repeatedly mount to the cross-trees to get a wider range of vision.
But land was not to be seen.
Next day as Dick was standing at the bow, alternately considering the canvas which his ship carried and the aspect presented by the sky, Mrs. Weldon approached him without his noticing her. She caught some muttered expressions of bewilderment that fell from his lips, and asked him whether he could see anything.
He lowered the telescope which he had been holding in his hand, and answered,-
"No, Mrs. Weldon, I cannot see anything; and it is this Hiat perplexes me so sorely. I cannot understand why we have not already come in sight of land. It is nearly a month since we lost our poor dear captain. There has been no delay in our progress; no stoppage in our rate of speed. I cannot make it out."
"How far were we from land when we lost the captain?"
"I am sure I am not far out in saying that we were scarcely more than 4500 miles from the shores of America."
"And at what rate have we been sailing?"
"Not much less than nine score knots a day."
"How long, then, do you reckon, Dick, we ought to be in arriving at the coast?"
"Under six-and-twenty days," replied Dick.
He paused before he spoke again, then added,-
"But what mystifies me even more than our failing to sight the land is this: we have not come across a single vessel; and yet vessels without number are always traversing these seas."
"But do you not think," inquired Mrs. Weldon, "that you have made some error in your reckoning? Is your speed really what you have supposed?"
"Impossible, madam," replied Dick, with an air of dignity, "impossible that I should have fallen into error. The log has been consulted, without fail, every half-hour. I am about to have it lowered now, and I will undertake to show you that we are at this present moment making ten miles an hour, which would give considerably over 200 miles a day."
He then called out to Tom,-
"Tom, lower the log!"
The old man was quite accustomed to the duty. The log was fastened to the line and thrown overboard. It ran out regularly for about five-and-twenty fathoms, when all at once the line slackened in Tom's hand.
"It is broken!" cried Tom; "the cord is broken!"
"Broken?" exclaimed Dick: "good heavens! we have lost the log!"
It was too true. The log was gone.
Tom drew in the rope. Dick took it up and examined it. It had not broken at its point of union with the log; it had given way in the middle, at a place where the strands in some unaccountable way had worn strangely thin.
Dick's agony of mind, in spite of his effort to be calm, was intensely great. A suspicion of foul play involuntarily occurred to him. He knew that the rope had been of first-rate make; he knew that it had been quite sound when used before; but he could prove nothing; he could only mourn over the loss which committed him to the sole remaining compass as his only guide.
That compass, too, although he knew it not, was misleading him entirely!
Mrs. Weldon sighed as she witnessed the grief which the loss manifestly caused poor Dick, but in purest sympathy she said nothing, and retired thoughtfully to her cabin.
It was no longer possible to reckon the rate of progress, but there was no doubt that the "Pilgrim" continued to maintain at least her previous speed.
Before another four-and-twenty hours had passed the barometer had fallen still lower, and the wind was threatening to rise to a velocity of sixty miles. Resolved to be on the safe side, Dick determined not only to strike the top-gallant and the main-top-mast, but to take in all the lower sails. Indeed, he began to be aware that no time was to be lost. The operation would not be done in a moment, and the storm was approaching. Dick made Tom take the helm; he ascended the shrouds with Bat, Austin, and Actæon, making Hercules stay on deck to slacken the halyards as required.
By dint of arduous exertion, and at no little risk of being thrown overboard by the rolling of the ship, they succeeded in lowering the two masts; the fore-top-sail was then reefed, and the fore-sail entirely struck, so that the only canvas that the schooner carried was the reefed fore-top and the one stay. These, however, made her run with a terrific speed.
Early on the morning of the 12th, Dick noted with alarm that the barometer had not ceased to fall, and now registered only 27.9°. The tempest had continued to increase, till it was unsafe for the ship to carry any canvas at all. The order was given for the top-sail to be taken in, but it was too late; a violent gust carried the sail completely away, and Austin, who had made his way to the fore-top-yard, was struck by the flying sheet; and although he was not seriously hurt, he was obliged at once to return to deck.
Dick Sands became more uneasy than ever; he was tortured by apprehensions of reefs outlying the shore, to which he imagined he must now be close; but he could discern no rocks to justify his fears, and returned to take his place at the helm.
The next moment Negoro appeared on deck; he pointed mysteriously to the far-off horizon, as though he discerned some object, as a mountain, there; and looking round with a malevolent smile, immediately left the deck, and went back to his cabin.
[Illustration: Under bare poles]
CHAPTER XII.
HOPE REVIVED.
The wind had now increased to a hurricane; it had veered to the south-west, and had attained a velocity little short of ninety miles an hour. On land, the most substantial of erections could with difficulty have withstood its violence, and a vessel anchored in a roadstead must have been torn from its moorings and cast ashore. The memorable storm that had devastated the Island of Guadaloupe on the 25th of July, 1825, when heavy cannon were lifted from their carriages, could scarcely have been more furious, and it was only her mobility before the blast and the solidity of her structure that gave the "Pilgrim" a hope of surviving the tempest.
A few minutes after the topsail had been lost, the small jib was carried away. Dick Sands contemplated the possibility of throwing out a storm-jib, made of extra strong canvas, as a means of bringing the ship a little more under his control, but abandoned the idea as useless. It was, therefore, under bare poles that the "Pilgrim" was driven along; but in spite of the lack of canvas, the hull, masts, and rigging, gave sufficient purchase to the wind, and the progress of the schooner was prodigiously rapid; sometimes, indeed, she seemed to be literally lifted from the water, and scudded on, scarcely skimming its surface. The rolling was fearful. Enormous waves followed in quick succession, and as they travelled faster than the ship, there was the perpetual risk of one of them catching her astern. Without sail, there were no means of escaping that peril by increase of speed; the adroit management of the helm was the only chance of avoiding the hazardous shocks, and even this repeatedly failed.
To prevent his being washed overboard Dick lashed himself to his place at the wheel by a rope round his waist, and made Tom and Bat keep close at hand, ready to give him assistance, in case of emergency. Hercules and Actæon, clinging to the bitt, kept watch at the bow. Mrs. Weldon and her party, at Dick's special request, remained inside the stern cabin, although the lady, for her own part, would much rather have stayed on deck; she had, however, yielded to the representation that she would thus be exposing herself to unnecessary danger.
The hatchways were hermetically closed, and it was to be hoped that they would withstand the heavy sea that was dashing over them; only let one of them give way to the pressure, and the vessel must inevitably fill and founder. It was a matter of congratulation that the stowage had been done very carefully, so that notwithstanding all the lurchings of the ship, the cargo did not shift in the least.
The heroic young commander had still further curtailed his periods of rest, and it was only at the urgent entreaty of Mrs. Weldon, who feared that he would exhaust himself by his vigilance, that he was induced to lie down for a few hours' sleep on the night of the 13th.
After Tom and Bat had been left alone at the wheel they were, somewhat to their surprise, joined by Negoro, who very rarely came aft. He seemed inclined to enter into conversation, but found little encouragement to talk on the part either of Tom or his son. All at once a violent roll of the ship threw him off his feet, and he would have gone overboard if he had not been saved by falling against the binnacle.
Old Tom was in a frantic state of alarm lest the compass should be broken. He uttered a cry of consternation so loud that it roused Dick from the light slumber into which he had fallen in the cabin, and he rushed to the deck. By the time he had reached the stern, Negoro had not only regained his feet, but had managed successfully to conceal
[Illustration: Quick as lightning, Dick Sands drew a revolver from his pocket.]
the bit of iron which he had again extracted from beneath the binnacle where he had himself laid it. Now that the wind had shifted to the south-west, it suited his machinations that the magnetic needle should indicate its true direction.
"How now?" asked Dick eagerly; "what is the meaning of all this noise?"
Tom explained how the cook had fallen against the binnacle, and how he had been terrified lest the compass should be injured. Dick's heart sank at the thought of losing his sole remaining compass, and his anxiety betrayed itself in his countenance as he knelt down to examine its condition; but he breathed freely as he ascertained that the instrument had sustained no damage; by the dim light he saw the needle resting on its two concentric circles, and felt his fears at once relieved; of course, he was quite unconscious of the fact that the removal of the bit of iron had made the magnet change its pointing. The incident, however, excited his misgiving; although he felt that Negoro could not be held responsible for an accidental fall, the very presence of the man in such a place at such a time perplexed him.
"And what brings you here, this hour of the night?" he asked.
"That's not your business," retorted Negoro insolently.
"It is my business," replied Dick resolutely; "and I mean to have an answer; what brought you here?"
Negoro answered sullenly that he knew of no rule to prevent his going where he liked and when he liked.
"No rule!" cried Dick; "then I make the rule now. From this time forward, I make the rule that you shall never come astern. Do you understand?"
Roused from his accustomed doggedness, the man seemed to make a threatening movement. Quick as lightning, Dick Sands drew a revolver from his pocket.
"Negoro, one act, one word of insubordination, and I blow out your brains!"
Negoro had no time to reply; before he could speak he was bowed down towards the deck by an irresistible weight. Hercules had grasped him by the shoulder.
"Shall I put him overboard, captain? he will make a meal for the fishes; they are not very particular what they eat," said the negro, with a grin of contempt.
"Not yet," quietly answered Dick.
The giant removed his hand, and Negoro stood upright again, and began to retreat to his own quarters, muttering, however, as he passed Hercules,-
"You cursed nigger! You shall pay for this!"
The discovery was now made that the wind apparently had taken a sudden shift of no less than forty-five degrees; but what occasioned Dick the greatest perplexity was that there was nothing in the condition of the sea to correspond with the alteration in the current of the air; instead of being directly astern, wind and waves were now beating on the larboard. Progress in this way must necessarily be full of danger, and Dick was obliged to bring his ship up at least four points before he got her straight before the tempest.
The young captain felt that he must be more than ever on the alert; he could not shake off the suspicion that Negoro had been concerned in the loss of the first compass, and had some further designs upon the second. Still he was utterly at a loss to imagine what possible motive the man could have for so criminal an act of malevolence, as there was no plausible reason to be assigned why he should not be as anxious as all the rest to reach the coast of America. The suspicion continued, however, to haunt him, and when he mentioned it to Mrs. Weldon he found that a similar feeling of distrust had agitated her, although she, like himself, was altogether unable to allege a likely motive why the cook should contemplate so strange an act of mischief. It was determined that a strict surveillance should be kept upon all the fellow's movements.
Negoro, however, manifested no inclination to disobey the captain's peremptory order; he kept strictly to his own part of the ship; but as Dingo was now regularly quartered on the stern, there was a tolerably sure guarantee that the cook would not be found wandering much in that direction.
A week passed, and still the tempest showed no signs of abating; the barometer continued to fall, and not once did a period of calmer weather afford an opportunity of carrying sail. The "Pilgrim" still made her way northeast. Her speed could not be less than two hundred miles in twenty-four hours. But no land appeared. Vast as was the range of the American continent, extending for 120 degrees between the Atlantic and the Pacific, it was nowhere to be discerned. Was he dreaming? was he mad? Dick would perpetually ask himself: had he been sailing in a wrong direction? had he failed to steer aright?
But no: he was convinced there was no error in his steering. Although he could not actually see it for the mist, he knew that day after day the sun rose before him, and that it set behind him. Yet he was constrained in bewilderment to ask, what had become of those shores of America upon which, when they came in sight, there was only too great a fear the ship should be dashed? what had become of them? where were they? whither had this incessant hurricane driven them? why did not the expected coast appear?
To all these bewildering inquiries Dick could find no answer except to imagine that his compass had misled him. Yet he was powerless to put his own misgivings to the test; he deplored more than ever the destruction of the duplicate instrument which would have checked his registers. He studied his chart; but all in vain; the position in which he found himself as the result of Negoro's treachery, seemed to baffle him the more, the more he tried to solve the mystery.
The days were passing on in this chronic state of anxiety, when one morning about eight o'clock, Hercules, who was on watch at the fore, suddenly shouted,-
"Land!"
Dick Sands had little reliance upon the negro's inexperienced eye, but hurried forward to the bow.
"Where's the land?" he cried; his voice being scarcely audible above the howling of the tempest.
"There! look there!" said Hercules, nodding his head and pointing over the larboard side, to the north-east.
Dick could see nothing.
Mrs. Weldon had heard the shout. Unable to restrain her interest, she had left her cabin and was at Dick's side. He uttered an expression of surprise at seeing her, but could not hear anything she said, as her voice was unable to rise above the roaring of the elements; she stood, her whole being as it were concentrated in the power of vision, and scanned the horizon in the direction indicated by Hercules. But all to no purpose.
Suddenly, however, after a while, Dick raised his hand.
"Yes!" he said; "yes; sure enough, yonder is land."
He clung with excitement to the netting; and Mrs Weldon, supported by Hercules, strained her eyes yet more vehemently to get a glimpse of a shore which she had begun to despair of ever reaching.
Beyond a doubt an elevated peak was there. It must be about ten miles to leeward. A break in the clouds soon left it more distinct. Some promontory it must be upon the American coast. Without sails, of course, the "Pilgrim" had no chance of bearing down direct upon it; but at least there was every reason to believe that she would soon reach some other portion of the shore; perhaps before noon, certainly in a few hours, they must be close to land.
The pitching of the ship made it impossible for Mrs. Weldon to keep safe footing on the deck; accordingly, at a sign from Dick, Hercules led her back again to her cabin.
Dick did not remain long at the bow, but went thoughtfully back to the wheel.
He had, indeed, a tremendous responsibility before him. Here was the land, the land for which they had longed so eagerly; and now that their anticipations were on the point of being realized, what was there, with a hurricane driving them on towards it, to prevent that land being their destruction? What measures could he take to prevent the schooner being dashed to pieces against it?
[Illustration: "There! look there!">[
At the very moment when the promontory was just abreast of them, Negoro appeared on deck; he nodded to the peak familiarly, as he might have saluted a familiar friend, and retired as stealthily as he had come.
Two hours later, and the promontory was lying to the larboard wake. Dick Sands had never relaxed his watchfulness, but he had failed to discover any further indications of a coast-line. His perplexity could only increase; the horizon was clear; the Andes ought to be distinct; they would be conspicuous twenty miles or more away. Dick took up his telescope again and again; he scrutinized the eastern horizon with minutest care; but there was nothing to be seen; and as the afternoon waned away the last glimpse had been taken of the promontory that had awakened their expectation; it had vanished utterly from their gaze; no indication of shore could be seen from the "Pilgrim's" deck.
Dick Sands uttered a sigh of mingled amazement and relief. He went into Mrs. Weldon's cabin, where she was standing with her party.
"It was only an island!" he said; "only an island!"
"How? why? what island? what do you mean?" cried Mrs. Weldon incredulously; "what island can it be?"
"The chart perhaps will tell us," replied Dick; and hurrying off to his own cabin, he immediately returned with the chart in his hands.
After studying it attentively for a few minutes, he said,-
"There, Mrs. Weldon; the land we have just passed, I should suppose must be that little speck in the midst of the Pacific. It must be Easter Island. At least, there seems to be no other land which possibly it could be."
"And do you say," inquired Mrs. Weldon, "that we have left it quite behind us?"
"Yes, entirely; almost to windward."
Mrs. Weldon commenced a searching scrutiny of the map that was outspread before her.
"How far is this," she said, after bending a considerable time over the chart; "how far is this from the coast of America?"
"Thirty-five degrees," answered Dick; "somewhere about 2500 miles."
"What ever do you mean?" rejoined the lady astonished; "if the 'Pilgrim' is still 2500 miles from shore, she has positively made no progress at all. Impossible!"
In thoughtful perplexity, Dick passed his hand across his brow. He did not know what to say. After an interval of silence, he said,-
"I have no account to give for the strange delay. It is inexplicable to myself, except upon that one hypothesis, which I cannot resist, that the readings of the compass, somehow or other, have been wrong."
He relapsed into silence. Then, brightening up, he added,-
"But, thank God! at least we have now the satisfaction of knowing where we really are; we are no longer lost upon the wide Pacific; if only this hurricane will cease, long as the distance seems, we are on our proper course to the shores of America."
The tone of confidence with which the youthful captain spoke had the effect of inspiring new hope into all who heard him; their spirits rose, and to their sanguine mood it seemed as if they were approaching to the end of all their troubles, and had hardly more to do than to await the turning of a tide to bring them into a glad proximity to port.
Easter Island, of which the true name is Vai-Hoo, was discovered by David in 1686 and visited by Cook and Lapérouse. It lies in lat. 27° S., and long. 112 E.; consequently, it was evident that during the raging of the hurricane the schooner had been driven northwards no less than fifteen degrees. Far away, however, as she was from shore, the wind could hardly fail within ten days to carry her within sight of land; and then, if the storm had worn itself out, (as probably it would,) the "Pilgrim" would again hoist sail, and make her way into some port with safety. Anyhow, the discovery of his true position restored a spirit of confidence to Dick Sands, and he anticipated the time when he should no longer be drifting helplessly before the storm.
To say the truth, the "Pilgrim" had suffered very little from the prolonged fury of the weather. The damage she had sustained was limited to the loss of the topsail and the small jib, which could be easily replaced. The caulking of the seams remained thoroughly sound, and no drop of water had found its way into the hold. The pumps, too, were perfectly free. Dick Sands did not fear for the stability of his ship; his only anxiety was lest the weather should not moderate in time. Only let the wind subside, and the schooner once more would be under his control; but he never forgot that the ordering of the winds and waves were in the hands of the Great Disposer of all.
CHAPTER XIII.
LAND AT LAST.
It was not long before Dick's sanguine expectations were partially realized, for on the very next day, which was the 27th, the barometer began to rise, not rapidly, but steadily, indicating that its elevation would probably continue. The sea remained exceedingly rough, but the violence of the wind, which had veered slightly towards the west, had perceptibly diminished. The tempest had passed its greatest fury, and was beginning to wear itself out.
Not a sail, however, could yet be hoisted; the smallest show of canvas would have been carried away in an instant; nevertheless Dick hoped that before another twenty-four hours were over, the "Pilgrim" might be able to carry a storm-jib.
In the course of the night the wind moderated still more and the pitching of the ship had so far diminished that the passengers began to reappear on deck. Mrs. Weldon was the first to leave her enforced imprisonment. She was anxious to speak to Dick, whom she might have expected to find looking pale and wan after his almost superhuman exertions and loss of sleep. But she was mistaken; however much the lad might suffer from the strain in after-years, at present he exhibited no symptoms of failing energy.
"Well, Captain Dick, how are you?" she said, as she advanced towards him holding out her hand.
Dick smiled.
"You call me captain, Mrs. Weldon," he answered, "but you do not seem disposed to submit implicitly to
[Illustration: "You have acquitted yourself like a man.">[
captain's orders. Did I not direct you to keep to your cabin?"
"You did," replied the lady; "but observing how much the storm had abated, I could not resist the temptation to disobey you."
"Yes, madam, the weather is far more promising; the barometer has not fallen since yesterday morning, and I really trust the worst is over now."
"Thank Heaven!" she replied, and after a few moments' silence, she added.-
"But now, Dick, you must really take some rest; you may perhaps not know how much you require it; but it is absolutely necessary."
"Rest!" the boy repeated; "rest! I want no rest. I have only done my duty, and it will be time enough for me to concern myself about my own rest, when I have seen my passengers in a place of safety."
"You have acquitted yourself like a man," said Mrs. Weldon; "and you may be assured that my husband, like myself, will never forget the services you have rendered me. I shall urge upon him the request which I am sure he will not refuse, that you shall have your studies completed, so that you may be made a captain for the firm."
Tears of gratitude rose to Dick's eyes. He deprecated the praise that was lavished upon him, but rejoiced in the prospect that seemed opening upon his future. Mrs. Weldon assured him that he was dear as a son to her, and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead. The lad felt that he was animated, if need be, to yet greater hardships in behalf of his benefactors, and resolved to prove himself even more worthy of their confidence.
By the 29th, the wind had so far moderated that Dick thought he might increase the "Pilgrim's" speed by hoisting the foresail and topsail.
"Now, my men, I have some work for you to-day," he said to the negroes when he came on deck at daybreak.
"All right, captain," answered Hercules, "we are growing rusty for want of something to do."
"Why didn't you blow with your big mouth?" said little Jack; "you could have beaten the wind all to nothing."
Dick laughed, and said, "Not a bad idea, Jack; if ever we get becalmed, we must get Hercules to blow into the sails."
"I shall be most happy," retorted the giant, and he inflated his huge checks till he was the very impersonation of Boreas himself.
"But now to work!" cried Dick; "we have lost our topsail, and we must contrive to hoist another. Not an easy matter, I can tell you."
"I dare say we shall manage it," replied Actæon.
"We must do our best," said Tom.
"Can't I help?" inquired Jack.
"Of course you can," answered Dick; "run along to the wheel, and assist Bat."
Jack strutted off, proud enough of his commission.
Under Dick's directions, the negroes commenced their somewhat difficult task. The new topsail, rolled up, had first of all to be hoisted, and then to be made fast to the yard; but so adroitly did the crew carry out their orders, that in less than an hour the sail was properly set and flying with a couple of reefs. The foresail and second jib, which had been taken down before the tempest, were hoisted again, and before ten o'clock the "Pilgrim" was running along under the three sails which Dick considered were as much as it was prudent to carry. Even at her present speed, the schooner, he reckoned, would be within sight of the American shore in about ten days. It was an immense relief to him to find that she was no longer at the mercy of the waves, and when he saw the sails properly set he returned in good spirits to his post at the helm, not forgetting to thank the temporary helmsman for his services, nor omitting his acknowledgment to Master Jack, who received the compliment with becoming gravity.
Although the clouds continued to travel all the next day with great rapidity they were very much broken, and alternately the "Pilgrim" was bathed in sunlight and enveloped in vapours, which rolled on towards the east. As the weather cleared, the hatchways were opened in
[Illustration: They both examined the outspread chart.]
order to ventilate the ship, and the outer air was allowed again to penetrate not only the hold, but the cabin and crew's quarters The wet sails were hung out to dry, the deck was washed down, for Dick Sands was anxious not to bring his ship into port without having "finished her toilet," and he found that his crew could very well spare a few hours daily to get her into proper trim.
Notwithstanding the loss of the log, Dick had sufficient experience to be able to make an approximate estimate of the schooner's progress, and after having pointed out to Mrs. Weldon what he imagined was the "Pilgrim's" true position, he told her that it was his firm impression that land would be sighted in little more than a week.
"And upon what part of South America do you reckon we are likely to find ourselves?" she asked.
"That is more than I dare venture to promise," replied Dick; "but I should think somewhere hereabouts."
He was pointing on the chart to the long shore-line of Chili and Peru.
They both examined the outspread chart with still closer attention.
"Here, you see," resumed Dick, "here is the island we have just left; we left it in the west; the wind has not shifted; we must expect to come in sight of land, pretty nearly due east of it. The coast has plenty of harbours. From any one of them you will be able easily to get to San Francisco. You know, I dare say, that the Pacific Navigation Company's steamers touch at all the principal ports. From any of them you will be sure to get direct passage to California."
"But do you mean," asked Mrs. Weldon, "that you are not going yourself to take the schooner to San Francisco?"
"Not direct," replied the young captain; "I want to see you safe on shore and satisfactorily on your homeward way. When that is done, I shall hope to get competent officers to take the ship to Valparaiso, where she will discharge her cargo, as Captain Hull intended; and afterwards I shall work our way back to San Francisco."
"Ah, well; we will see all about that in due time." Mrs. Weldon said, smiling; and, after a short pause, added, "At one time, Dick, you seemed to have rather a dread of the shore."
"Quite true," answered Dick; "but now I am in hopes we may fall in with some passing vessel; we want to have a confirmation as to our true position. I cannot tell you how surprised I am that we have not come across a single vessel. But when we near the land we shall be able to get a pilot."
"But what will happen if we fail to get a pilot?" was Mrs. Weldon's inquiry. She was anxious to learn how far the lad was prepared to meet any emergency.
With unhesitating promptness Dick replied,-
"Why, then, unless the weather takes the control of the ship out of my hands, I must patiently follow the coast until I come to a harbour of refuge. But if the wind should freshen, I should have to adopt other measures."
"What then, Dick, what then?" persisted Mrs. Weldon.
The boy's brow knitted itself together in resolution, and he said deliberately,-
"I should run the ship aground."
Mrs. Weldon started.
"However," Dick continued, "there is no reason to apprehend this. The weather has mended and is likely to mend. And why should we fear about finding a pilot? Let us hope all will be well."
Mrs. Weldon at least had satisfied herself on one point. She had ascertained that although Dick did not anticipate disaster, yet he was prepared in the case of emergency to resort to measures from which any but the most experienced seaman would shrink.
But although Dick's equanimity had been successful in allaying any misgivings on Mrs. Weldon's part, it must be owned that the condition of the atmosphere caused him very serious uneasiness.
The wind remained uncomfortably high, and the barometer gave very ominous indications that it would ere long freshen still more. Dick dreaded that the time was about to return in which once again he must reduce his vessel to a state of bare poles; but so intense was his aversion to having his ship so wrested as it were from his own management, that he determined to carry the topsail till it was all but carried away by the force of the blast. Concerned, moreover, for the safety of his masts, the loss of which he acknowledged must be fatal, he had the shrouds well overhauled and the backstays considerably tightened.
More than once another contingency occurred to his mind, and gave him some anxiety. He could not overlook the possibility of the wind changing all round. What should he do in such a case? He would of course endeavour by all means to get the schooner on by incessant tacking; but was there not the certainty of a most hazardous delay? and worse than this, was there not a likelihood of the "Pilgrim" being once again driven far out to sea?
Happily these forebodings were not realized. The wind, after chopping about for several days, at one time blowing from the north, and at another from the south, finally settled down into a stiffish gale from the west, which did nothing worse than severely strain the masts.
In this weary but hopeful endurance time passed on. The 5th of April had arrived. It was more than two months since the "Pilgrim" had quitted New Zealand; it was true that during the first three weeks of her voyage she had been impeded by protracted calms and contrary winds; but since that time her speed had been rapid, the very tempests had driven her forwards with unwonted velocity; she had never failed to have her bow towards the land, and yet land seemed as remote as ever; the coast line was retreating as they approached it. What could be the solution of the mystery?
From the cross-trees one or other of the negroes was kept incessantly on the watch. Dick Sands himself, telescope in hand, would repeatedly ascend in the hope of beholding some lofty peak of the Andes emerging from the mists that hung over the horizon. But all in vain.
False alarms were given more than once. Sometimes Tom, sometimes Hercules, or one of the others would be sure that a distant speck they had descried was assuredly a mountain ridge; but the vapours were continually gathering in such fantastic forms that their unexperienced eyes were soon deceived, and they seldom had to wait long before their fond delusion was all dispelled.
At last, the expected longing was fulfilled. At eight o'clock one morning the mists seemed broken up with unusual rapidity, and the horizon was singularly clear. Dick had hardly gone aloft when his voice rung out,-
"Land! Land ahead!"
As if summoned by a spell, every one was on deck in an instant: Mrs. Weldon, sanguine of a speedy end to the general anxiety; little Jack, gratified at a new object of curiosity; Cousin Benedict, already scenting a new field for entomological investigation; old Nan; and the negroes, eager to set foot upon American soil; all, with the exception of Negoro, all were on deck; but the cook did not stir from his solitude, or betray any sympathy with the general excitement.
Whatever hesitation there might be at first soon passed away; one after another soon distinguished the shore they were approaching, and in half an hour there was no room for the most sceptical to doubt that Dick was right. There was land not far ahead.
A few miles to the east there was a long low-lying coast; the chain of the Andes ought to be visible; but it was obscured, of course, by the intervening clouds.
The "Pilgrim" bore down rapidly towards the land, and in a short time its configuration could be plainly made out. Towards the north-east the coast terminated in a headland of moderate height sheltering a kind of roadstead; on the south-east it stretched out in a long and narrow tongue. The Andes were still wanting to the scene; they must be somewhere in the background; but at present, strange to say, there was only a succession of low cliffs with some trees standing out against the sky. No human habitation, no harbour, not even an indication of a river-mouth, could anywhere be seen.
The wind remained brisk, and the schooner was driving directly towards the land, with sails shortened as seemed desirable; but Dick realized to himself the fact that he was utterly incapable of altering her course. With eager eyes he scrutinized his situation. Straight ahead was a reef over which the waves were curling, and around which the surf must be tremendous. It could hardly be more than a mile away. The wind seemed brisker than before.
After gazing awhile, Dick seemed to have come to a sudden resolution. He went quickly aft and took the helm. He had seen a little cove, and had made up his mind that he would try and make his way into it. He did not speak a word; he knew the difficulty of the task he had undertaken; he was aware from the white foam, that there was shallow water on either hand; but he kept the secret of the peril to himself, and sought no counsel in coming to his fixed resolve.
Dingo had been trotting up and down the deck. All at once he bounded to the fore, and broke out into a piteous howl. It roused Dick from his anxious cogitations. Was it possible that the animal recognized the coast? It almost seemed as if it brought back some painful associations.
The howling of the dog had manifestly attracted Negoro's attention; the man emerged from his cabin, and, regardless of the dog, stood close to the netting; but although he gazed at the surf, it did not seem to occasion him any alarm. Mrs. Weldon, who was watching him, fancied she saw a flush rise to his face, which involuntarily suggested the thought to her mind that Negoro had seen the place before.
Either she had no time or no wish to express what had struck her, for she did not mention it to Dick, who, at that moment, left the helm, and came and stood beside her.
Dick looked as if he were taking a lingering farewell of the cove past which they were being carried beyond his power to help.
In a few moments he turned round to Mrs. Weldon, and said quietly,-
"Mrs. Weldon, I am disappointed. I hoped to get the schooner into yonder cove; but there is no chance now; if nothing is done, in half an hour she will be upon that reef. I have but one alternative left. I must run her aground. It will be utter destruction to the ship, but there is no choice. Your safety is the first and paramount consideration."
"Do you mean that there is no other course to be taken, Dick?"
"None whatever," said Dick decidedly.
"It must be as you will," she said.
Forthwith ensued the agitating preparations for stranding. Mrs. Weldon, Jack, Cousin Benedict, and Nan were provided with life belts, while Dick and the negroes made themselves ready for being dashed into the waves. Every precaution that the emergency admitted was duly taken. Mrs. Weldon was entrusted to the special charge of Hercules; Dick made himself responsible for doing all he could for little Jack; Cousin Benedict, who was tolerably calm, was handed over to Bat and Austin; while Actæon promised to look after Nan. Negoro's nonchalance implied that he was quite capable of shifting for himself.
Dick had the forethought also to order about a dozen barrels of their cargo to be brought in front, so that when the "Pilgrim" struck, the oil escaping and floating on the waves would temporarily lull their fury, and make smoother water for the passage of the ship.
After satisfying himself that there was no other measure to be taken to ameliorate the peril, Dick Sands returned to the helm. The schooner was all but upon the reef, and only a few cables' length from the shore; her starboard quarter indeed was already bathed in the seething foam, and any instant the keel might be expected to grate upon the under-lying rock. Presently a change of colour in the water was observed; it revealed a passage between the rocks. Dick gave the wheel a turn; he saw the chance of getting aground nearer to the shore than he had dared to hope, and he made the most of it. He steered the schooner right into the narrow channel; the sea was
[Illustration: The sea was furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand]
furious, and dashed vehemently upon the crags on either hand.
"Now, my lads!" he cried to his crew, "now's your time; out with your oil! let it run!"
Ready for the order, the negroes poured out the oil, and the raging waters were stilled as if by magic. A few moments more and perchance they would rage more vehemently than ever. But for the instant they were lulled.
The "Pilgrim," meanwhile, had glided onwards, and made dead for the adjacent shore. There was a sudden shock. Caught by an enormous wave the schooner had been hurled aground; her masts had fallen, fortunately without injury to any one on board. But the vessel had parted amidships, and was foundering; the water was rushing irresistibly into the hold.
The shore, however, was not half a cable's length away; there was a low, dark ridge of rocks that was united to the beach; it afforded ample means of rescue, and in less than ten minutes the "Pilgrim's" captain, crew, and passengers were all landed, with their lives, at the foot of the overhanging cliff.
CHAPTER XIV.
ASHORE.
Thus, after a voyage of seventy-four days, the "Pilgrim" had stranded. Mrs. Weldon and her fellow-voyagers joined in thanksgiving to the kind Providence that had brought them ashore, not upon one of the solitary islands of Polynesia, but upon a solid continent, from almost any part of which there would be no difficulty in getting home.
The ship was totally lost. She was lying in the surf a hopeless wreck, and few must be the hours that would elapse before she would be broken up in scattered fragments; it was impossible to save her. Notwithstanding that Dick Sands bewailed the loss of a valuable ship and her cargo to the owner, he had the satisfaction of knowing that he had been instrumental in saving what was far more precious, the lives of the owner's wife and son.
It was impossible to do more than hazard a conjecture as to the part of the South American coast on which the "Pilgrim" had been cast. Dick imagined that it must be somewhere on the coast of Peru; after sighting Easter Island, he knew that the united action of the equatorial current and the brisk wind must have had the effect of driving the schooner far northward, and he formed his conclusion accordingly. Be the true position, however, what it might, it was all important that it should be accurately ascertained as soon as possible. If it were really in Peru, he would not be long in finding his way to one of the numerous ports and villages that lie along the coast.
But the shore here was quite a desert. A narrow strip of beach, strewn with boulders, was enclosed by a cliff of no great height, in which, at irregular intervals, deep funnels appeared as chasms in the rock. Here and there a gentle slope led to the top.
About a quarter of a mile to the north was the mouth of a little river which had not been visible from the sea. Its banks were overhung by a number of "rhizophora," a species of mangrove entirely distinct from that indigenous to India. It was soon ascertained that the summit of the cliff was clothed by a dense forest, extending far away in undulations of verdure to the mountains in the background. Had Cousin Benedict been a botanist, he could not have failed to find a new and interesting field for his researches; there were lofty baobabs (to which an extraordinary longevity has often been erroneously ascribed), with bark resembling Egyptian syenite; there were white pines, tamarinds, pepper-plants of peculiar species, and numerous other plants unfamiliar to the eye of a native of the North; but, strange to say, there was not a single specimen of the extensive family of palms, of which more than a thousand varieties are scattered in profusion in so many quarters of the globe.
Above the shore hovered a large number of screeching birds, mostly of the swallow tribe, their black plumage shot with steelly blue, and shading off to a light brown at the top of the head. Now and then a few partridges of a greyish colour rose on wing, their necks entirely bare of feathers: the fearless manner in which the various birds all allowed themselves to be approached made Mrs. Weldon and Dick both wonder if the shores upon which they had been thrown were not so deserted that the sound of fire-arms was not known.
On the edge of the reefs some pelicans (of the species known as pelicanus minor) were busily filling their pouches with tiny fish, and some gulls coming in from the open sea began to circle round the wreck: with these exceptions not a living creature appeared in sight. Benedict, no doubt, could have discovered many entomological novelties amongst the foliage, but these could give no more information than the birds as to the name of their habitat. Neither north, nor south, nor towards the forest, was there trace of rising smoke, or any footprint or other sign to indicate the presence of a human being.
Dick's surprise was very great. He knew that the proximity of a native would have made Dingo bark aloud; but the dog gave no warning; he was running backwards and forwards, his tail lowered and his nose close to the ground; now and again he uttered a deep growl.
"Look at Dingo!" said Mrs. Weldon; "how strange he is! he seems to be trying to discover a lost scent."
After watching the dog for a time, she spoke again:-
"Look, too, at Negoro! he and the dog seem to be on the same purpose!"
"As to Negoro," said Dick, "I cannot concern myself with him now; he must do as he pleases; I have no further control over him; his service expires with the loss of the ship."
Negoro was in fact walking to and fro, surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience to his recollection. His dogged taciturnity was too well known for any one to think of questioning him; every one was accustomed to let him go his own way, and when Dick noticed that he had gone towards the little river, and had disappeared behind the cliff, he thought no more about him. Dingo likewise had quite forgotten his enemy, and desisted from his growling.
The first necessity for the shipwrecked party was to find a temporary shelter where they might take some refreshment. There was no lack of provisions; independently of the resources of the land, the ebbing tide had left upon the rocks the great bulk of the "Pilgrim's" stores, and the negroes had already collected several kegs of biscuit, and a number of cases of preserved meat, besides a variety of other supplies. All that they rescued they carefully piled up above high-water mark. As nothing appeared to be injured by the sea-water, the victualling of the party all seemed to be satisfactorily secure for the interval which must elapse (and they all believed it would not be long,)
[Illustration: Surveying the shore with the air of a man who was trying to recall some past experience]
before they reached one of the villages which they presumed were close at hand. Dick, moreover, took the precaution of sending Hercules to get a small supply of fresh water from the river hard by, and the good-natured fellow returned carrying a whole barrel-full on his shoulder.
Plenty of fuel was lying about, and whenever they wanted to light a fire they were sure of having an abundance of dead wood and the roots of the old mangroves. Old Tom, an inveterate smoker, always carried a tinder box in his pocket; this had been too tightly fastened to be affected by the moisture, and could always produce a spark upon occasion.
Still they must have a shelter. Without some rest it was impossible to start upon a tour of exploration; accordingly, all interests were directed towards ascertaining where the necessary repose could be obtained.
The honour of discovering where the desired retreat could be found fell to the lot of little Jack. Trotting about at the foot of the cliff, he came upon one of those grottoes which are constantly being found hollowed out in the rock by the vehement action of the waves in times of tempest.
"Here, look here!" cried the child; "here's a place!"
"Well done, Jack!" answered his mother; "your lucky discovery is just what we wanted. If we were going to stay here any time we should have to do the same as the Swiss Family Robinson, and name the spot after you!"
It was hardly more than twelve or fourteen feet square, and yet the grotto seemed to Jack to be a gigantic cavern. But narrow as its limits were, it was capacious enough to receive the entire party. It was a great satisfaction to Mrs. Weldon to observe that it was perfectly dry, and as the moon was just about her first quarter there was no likelihood of a tide rising to the foot of the cliff. At any rate, it was resolved that they might take up their quarters there for a few hours.
Shortly after one o'clock the whole party were seated upon a carpet of seaweed round a repast consisting of preserved meat, biscuit, and water flavoured with a few drops of rum, of which Bat had saved a quart bottle from the wreck. Even Negoro had returned and joined the group; probably he had not cared to venture alone along the bank of the stream into the forest. He sat listening, as it seemed indifferently, to the various plans for the future that were being discussed, and did not open his mouth either by way of remonstrance or suggestion.
Dingo was not forgotten, and had his share of food duly given him outside the grotto, where he was keeping guard.
When the meal was ended, Mrs. Weldon, passing her arms round Jack, who was lounging half asleep with excitement and fatigue at her side, was the first to speak.
"My dear Dick," she said, "in the name of us all, let me thank you for the services you have rendered us in our tedious time of difficulty. As you have been our captain at sea, let me beg you to be our guide upon land. We shall have perfect confidence in your judgment, and await your instructions as to what our next proceedings shall be."
All eyes were turned upon Dick. Even Negoro appeared to be roused to curiosity, as if eager to know what he had to say.
Dick did not speak for some moments. He was manifestly pondering what step he should advise. After a while he said,-
"My own impression, Mrs. Weldon, is that we have been cast ashore upon one of the least-frequented parts of the coast of Peru, and that we are near the borders of the Pampas. In that case I should conclude that we are at a considerable distance from any village. Now, I should recommend that we stay here altogether for the coming night. To-morrow morning, two of us can start off on an exploring expedition. I entertain but little doubt that natives will be met with within ten or a dozen miles."
Mrs. Weldon looked doubtful. Plainly she thought unfavourably of the project of separating the party. She reflected for a considerable time, and then asked,-
"And who is to undertake the task of exploring?"
Prompt was Dick's answer:-
"Tom and I."
"And leave us here?" suggested the lady.
"Yes; to take care of you, there will be Hercules, Bat, Actæon and Austin. Negoro, too, I presume, means to remain here," said Dick, glancing towards the cook.
"Perhaps," replied Negoro, sparing as ever of his words.
"We shall take Dingo," added Dick; "likely enough he may be useful."
At the sound of his name the dog had entered the grotto. A short bark seemed to testify his approval of Dick's proposal.
Mrs. Weldon was silent. She looked sad and thoughtful. It was hard to reconcile herself to the division of the party. She was aware that the separation would not be for long, but she could not suppress a certain feeling of nervousness. Was it not possible that some natives, attracted by the wreck, would assault them in hopes of plunder?
Every argument he could think of, Dick brought forward to reassure the lady. He told her that the Indians were perfectly harmless, and entirely different to the savage tribes of Africa and Polynesia; there was no reason to apprehend any mischief, even if they should chance to encounter them, which was itself extremely unlikely. No doubt the separation would have its inconveniences, but they would be insignificant compared with the difficulty of traversing the country en masse. Tom and he would have far greater freedom if they went alone, and could make their investigations much more thoroughly. Finally he promised that if within two days they failed to discover human habitation, they would return to the grotto forthwith.
"I confess, however," he added, "that I have little expectation of being able to ascertain our true position, until I have penetrated some distance into the country."
There was nothing in Dick's representations but what commanded Mrs. Weldon's assent as reasonable. It was simply her own nervousness, she acknowledged, that made her hesitate; but it was only with extreme reluctance that she finally yielded to the proposition.
"And what, Mr. Benedict, is your opinion of my proposal?" said Dick, turning to the entomologist.
"I?" answered Cousin Benedict, looking somewhat bewildered, "Oh, I am agreeable to anything. I dare say I shall find some specimens. I think I will go and look at once."
"Take my advice, and don't go far away," replied Dick.
"All right; I shall take care of myself."
"And don't be bringing back a lot of mosquitoes," said old Tom mischievously.
With his box under his arm, the naturalist left the grotto.
Negoro followed almost immediately. He did not take the same direction as Benedict up the cliff, but for the second time bent his steps towards the river, and proceeded along its bank till he was out of sight.
It was not long before Jack's exertions told upon him, and he fell into a sound sleep. Mrs. Weldon having gently laid him on Nan's lap, wandered out and made her way to the water's edge. She was soon joined by Dick and the negroes, who wanted to see whether it was possible to get to the "Pilgrim," and secure any articles that might be serviceable for future use. The reef on which the schooner had stranded was now quite dry, and the carcase of the vessel which had been partially covered at high water was lying in the midst of debris of the most promiscuous character. The wide difference between high and low-water mark caused Dick Sands no little surprise. He knew that the tides on the shores of the Pacific were very inconsiderable; in his own mind, however, he came to the conclusion that the phenomenon was to be explained by the unusually high wind that had been blowing on the coast.
Not without emotion could Mrs. Weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship upon which they had spent so many eventful days, lying dismasted on her side. But there was little time for sentiment. If they wished to visit the hull before it finally went to pieces there must be no delay.
Hoisting themselves by some loose rigging that was hanging from the deck, Dick and several of the negroes
[Illustration: Not without emotion could Mrs. Weldon, or indeed any of them, behold the unfortunate ship.]
contrived to make their way into the interior of the hull. Dick left his men to gather together all they could in the way of food and drink from the store-room, and himself went straight to the stern cabin, into which the water had not penetrated. Here he found four excellent Purday's Remington rifles and a hundred cartridges; with these he determined to arm his party, in case they should be attacked by Indians. He also chose six of the strongest of the cutlasses that are used for slicing up dead whales; and did not forget the little toy gun which was Jack's special property. Unexpectedly he found a pocket-compass, which he was only too glad to appropriate. What a boon it would have been had he discovered it earlier! The ship's charts in the fore-cabin were too much injured by water to be of any further service. Nearly everything was either lost or spoiled, but the misfortune was not felt very acutely because there was ample provision for a few days, and it seemed useless to burden themselves with more than was necessary. Dick hardly needed Mrs. Weldon's advice to secure all the money that might be on board, but after the most diligent search he failed to discover more than five hundred dollars. This was a subject of perplexity. Mrs. Weldon herself had had a considerably larger sum than this, and Captain Hull was known always to keep a good reserve in hand. There was but one way to solve the mystery. Some one had been beforehand to the wreck. It could not be any of the negroes, as not one of them had for a moment left the grotto. Suspicion naturally fell upon Negoro, who had been out alone upon the shore. Morose and cold-blooded as the man was, Dick hardly knew why he should suspect him of the crime of theft; nevertheless, he determined to cross-examine him, and, if need be, to have him searched, as soon as he came back.
The day wore onwards to its close. The sun was approaching the vernal equinox, and sank almost perpendicularly on to the horizon. Twilight was very short, and the rapidity with which darkness came on confirmed Dick in his belief that they had got ashore at some spot lying between the tropic of Capricorn and the equator.
They all assembled in the grotto again for the purpose of getting some sleep.
"Another rough night coming on!" said Tom, pointing to the heavy clouds that hung over the horizon.
"No doubt, Tom!" answered Dick, "and I think we may congratulate ourselves on being safe out of our poor ship."
As the night could not be otherwise than very dark, it was arranged that the negroes should take their turns in keeping guard at the entrance of the grotto. Dingo also would be upon the alert.
Benedict had not yet returned. Hercules shouted his name with the full strength of his capacious lungs, and shortly afterwards the entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent risk of breaking his neck. He was in a great rage. He had not found a single insect worth having, scorpions, scolopendra, and other myriapoda were in the forest in abundance; but not one of these of course could be allowed a place in his collection.
"Have I come six thousand miles for this?" he cried: "have I endured storm and shipwreck only to be cast where not a hexapod is to be seen? The country is detestable! I shall not stay in it another hour!"
Ever gentle to his eccentricities, Mrs. Weldon soothed him as she would a child, she told him that he had better take some rest now, and most likely he would have better luck to-morrow.
Cousin Benedict had hardly been pacified when Tom remarked that Negoro too had not returned.
"Never mind!" said Bat, "his room is as good as his company."
"I cannot say that I altogether think so. The man is no favourite of mine, but I like him better under my own eye," said Mrs. Weldon.
"Perhaps he has his own reasons for keeping away," said Dick, and taking Mrs. Weldon aside, he communicated to her his suspicions of the fellow's dishonesty.
He found that she coincided with him in her view of
[Illustration: The entomologist was seen making his way down the face of the cliff at the imminent risk of breaking his neck.]
Negoro's conduct; but she did not agree with him in his proposal to have him searched at once. If he returned, she should be convinced that he had deposited the money in some secret spot; and as there would be no proof of his guilt, it would be better to leave him, at least for a time, uninterrogated.
Dick was convinced by her representations, and promised to act upon her advice.
Before they resigned themselves to sleep, they had repeatedly summoned Negoro back, but he either could not or would not hear. Mrs. Weldon and Dick scarcely knew what to think; unless he had lost his way; it was unaccountable why he should be wandering about alone on a dark night in a strange country.
Presently Dingo was heard barking furiously. He had left the opening of the grotto, and was evidently down at the water's edge. Imagining that Negoro must be coming, Dick sent three of the negroes in the direction of the river to meet him; but when they reached the bank not a soul could be seen, and as Dingo was quiet again, they made their way back to the grotto.
Excepting the man left on watch, they now all lay down, hoping to get some repose. Mrs. Weldon, however, could not sleep. The land for which she had sighed so ardently had been reached, but it had failed to give either the security or the comfort which she had anticipated!
CHAPTER XV.
A STRANGER.
At daybreak, next morning, Austin, who happened to be on guard, heard Dingo bark, and noticed that he started up and ran towards the river. Arousing the inmates of the grotto, he announced to them that some one was coming.
"It isn't Negoro," said Tom; "Dingo would bark louder than that if Negoro were to be seen."
"Who, then, can it be?" asked Mrs. Weldon, with an inquiring glance towards Dick.
"We must wait and see, madam," replied Dick quietly.
Bidding Bat, Austin, and Hercules follow his example, Dick Sands took up a cutlass and a rifle, into the breach of which he slipped a cartridge. Thus armed, the four young men made their way towards the river bank. Tom and Actæon were left with Mrs. Weldon at the entrance of the grotto.
The sun was just rising. Its rays, intercepted by the lofty range of mountains in the east, did not fall directly on the cliff; but the sea to its western horizon was sparkling in the sunbeams as the party marched along the shore. Dingo was motionless as a setter, but did not cease barking. It soon proved not to be his old enemy who was disturbing him. A man, who was not Negoro, appeared round the angle of the cliff, and advancing cautiously along the bank of the stream, seemed by his gestures to be endeavouring to pacify the dog, with which an encounter would certainly have been by no means desirable.
"That's not Negoro!" said Hercules.
[Illustration: "Good morning, my young friend.">[
"No loss for any of us," muttered Bat.
"You are right," replied Dick; "perhaps he is a native; let us hope he may be able to tell us our whereabouts, and save us the trouble of exploring."
With their rifles on their shoulders, they advanced steadily towards the new arrival. The stranger, on becoming aware of their approach, manifested great surprise; he was apparently puzzled as to how they had reached the shore, for the "Pilgrim" had been entirely broken up during the night, and the spars that were floating about had probably been too few and too scattered to attract his attention. His first attitude seemed to betray something of fear; and raising to his shoulder a gun that had been slung to his belt, he began to retrace his steps; but conciliatory gestures on the part of Dick quickly reassured him, and after a moment's hesitation, he continued to advance.
He was a man of about forty years of age, strongly built, with a keen, bright eye, grizzly hair and beard, and a complexion tanned as with constant exposure to the forest air. He wore a broad-brimmed hat, a kind of leather jerkin, or tunic, and long boots reaching nearly to his knees. To his high heels was fastened a pair of wide-rowelled spurs, which clanked as he moved.
Dick Sands in an instant saw that he was not looking upon one of the roving Indians of the pampas, but upon one of those adventurers, often of very doubtful character, who are not unfrequently to be met with in the remotest quarters of the earth. Clearly this was neither an Indian nor a Spaniard. His erect, not to say rigid deportment, and the reddish hue with which his hair and beard were streaked, betokened him to be of Anglo-Saxon origin, a conjecture which was at once confirmed when upon Dick's wishing him "good morning," he replied in unmistakable English, with hardly a trace of foreign accent,-
"Good morning, my young friend."
He stepped forward, and having shaken hands with Dick, nodded to all his companions.
"Are you English?" he asked.
"No; we are Americans," replied Dick.
"North or South?" inquired the man.
"North," Dick answered.
The information seemed to afford the stranger no little satisfaction, and he again wrung Dick's hand with all the enthusiasm of a fellow-countryman.
"And may I ask what brings you here?" he continued.
Before, however, Dick had time to reply, the stranger had courteously raised his hat, and, looking round, Dick saw that his bow was intended for Mrs. Weldon, who had just reached the river-bank. She proceeded to tell him the particulars of how they had been shipwrecked, and how the vessel had gone to pieces on the reefs.
A look of pity crossed the man's face as he listened, and he cast his eye, as it might be involuntarily, upon the sea, in order to discern some vestige of the stranded ship.
"Ah! there is nothing to be seen of our poor schooner!" said Dick mournfully; "the last of her was broken up in the storm last night."
"And now," interposed Mrs. Weldon, "can you tell us where we are?"
"Where?" exclaimed the man, with every indication of surprise at her question; "why, on the coast of South America, of course!"
"But on what part? are we near Peru?" Dick inquired eagerly.
"No, my lad, no; you are more to the south; you are on the coast of Bolivia; close to the borders of Chili."
"A good distance, I suppose, from Lima?" asked Dick.
"From Lima? yes, a long way; Lima is far to the north."
"And what is the name of that promontory?" Dick said, pointing to the adjacent headland.
"That, I confess, is more than I am able to tell you," replied the stranger; "for although I have travelled a great deal in the interior of the country, I have never before visited this part of the coast."
Dick pondered in thoughtful silence over the information he had thus received. He had no reason to doubt its accuracy; according to his own reckoning he would have expected to come ashore somewhere between the latitudes of 27° and 30°; and by this stranger's showing he had made the latitude 25°; the discrepancy was not very great; it was not more than might be accounted for by the action of the currents, which he knew he had been unable to estimate; moreover, the deserted character of the whole shore inclined him to believe more easily that he was in Lower Bolivia.
Whilst this conversation was going on, Mrs. Weldon, whose suspicions had been excited by Negoro's disappearance, had been scrutinizing the stranger with the utmost attention; but she could detect nothing either in his manner or in his words to give her any cause to doubt his good faith.
"Pardon me," she said presently; "but you do not seem to me to be a native of Peru?"
"No; like yourself, I am an American, Mrs. --;" he paused, as if waiting to be told her name.
The lady smiled, and gave her name; he thanked her, and continued,-
"My name is Harris. I was born in South Carolina; but it is now twenty years since I left my home for the pampas of Bolivia; imagine, therefore, how much pleasure it gives me to come across some countrymen of my own."
"Do you live in this part of the province, Mr. Harris?" Mrs. Weldon asked.
"No, indeed; far away; I live down to the south, close to the borders of Chili. At present I am taking a journey north-eastwards to Atacama."
"Atacama!" exclaimed Dick; "are we anywhere near the desert of Atacama?"
"Yes, my young friend," rejoined Harris, "you are just on the edge of it. It extends far beyond those mountains which you see on the horizon, and is one of the most curious and least explored parts of the continent."
"And are you travelling through it alone?" Mrs. Weldon inquired.
"Yes, quite alone; and it is not the first time I have performed the journey. One of my brothers owns a large
[Illustration: "He is my little son.">[
farm, the hacienda of San Felice, about 200 miles from here, and I have occasion now and then to pay him business visits."
After a moment's hesitation, as if he were weighing a sudden thought, he continued,-
"I am on my way there now, and if you will accompany me I can promise you a hearty welcome, and my brother will be most happy to do his best to provide you with means of conveyance to San Francisco."
Mrs. Weldon had hardly begun to express her thanks for the proposal when he said abruptly,-
"Are these negroes your slaves?"
"Slaves! sir," replied Mrs. Weldon, drawing herself up proudly; "we have no slaves in the United States. The south has now long followed the example of the north. Slavery is abolished."
"I beg your pardon, madam. I had forgotten that the war of 1862 had solved that question. But seeing these fellows with you, I thought perhaps they might be in your service," he added, with a slight tone of irony.
"We are very proud to be of any service to Mrs. Weldon," Tom interposed with dignity, "but we are no man's property. It is true I was sold for a slave when I was six years old; but I have long since had my freedom; and so has my son. Bat here, and all his friends, were born of free parents."
"Ah! well then, I have to congratulate you," replied Harris, in a manner that jarred very sensibly upon Mrs. Weldon's feelings; but she said nothing.
Harris added,-
"I can assure you that you are as safe here in Bolivia as you would be in New England."
He had not finished speaking, when Jack, followed by Nan, came out of the grotto. The child was rubbing his eyes, having only just awakened from his night's sleep. Catching sight of his mother, he darted towards her.
"What a charming little boy!" exclaimed Harris.
"He is my little son," said Mrs. Weldon, kissing the child by way of morning greeting.
"Ah, madam, I am sure you must have suffered doubly on his account. Will the little man let me kiss him too?"
But there was something in the stranger's appearance that did not take Jack's fancy, and he shrank back timidly to his mother's side.
"You must excuse him, sir; he is very shy."
"Never mind," said Harris; "we shall be better acquainted by-and-by. When we get to my brother's, he shall have a nice little pony to ride."
But not even this tempting offer seemed to have any effect in coaxing Jack into a more genial mood. He kept fast hold of his mother's hand, and she, somewhat vexed at his behaviour, and anxious that no offence should be given to a man who appeared so friendly in his intentions, hastened to turn the conversation to another topic.
Meantime Dick Sands had been considering Harris's proposal. Upon the whole, the plan of making their way to the hacienda of San Felice seemed to commend itself to his judgment; but he could not conceal from himself that a journey of 200 miles across plains and forests, without any means of transport, would be extremely fatiguing. On expressing his doubts on this point, he was met with the reply,-
"Oh, that can be managed well enough, young man; just round the corner of the cliff there I have a horse, which is quite at the disposal of the lady and her son; and by easy stages of ten miles or so a day, it will do the rest of us no harm to travel on foot. Besides," he added, "when I spoke of the journey being 200 miles, I was thinking of following, as I usually do, the course of the river; but by taking a short cut across the forest, we may reduce the distance by nearly eighty miles."
Mrs. Weldon was about to say how grateful she was, but Harris anticipated her.
"Not a word, madam, I beg you. You cannot thank me better than by accepting my offer. I confess I have never crossed this forest, but I am so much accustomed to the pampas that I have little fear of losing my way. The only difficulty is in the matter of provisions, as I have only supplied myself with enough to carry me on to San Felice."
"As to provisions," replied Mrs. Weldon, "we have enough and to spare; and we shall be more than willing to share everything with you."
"That is well," answered Harris; "then there can be no reason why we should not start at once."
He was turning away with the intention of fetching his horse, when Dick Sands detained him. True to his seaman's instincts, the young sailor felt that he should be much more at his ease on the sea-shore than traversing the heart of an unknown forest.
"Pardon me, Mr. Harris," he began, "but instead of taking so long a journey across the desert of Atacama, would it not be far better for us to follow the coast either northwards or southwards, until we reach the nearest seaport?"
A frown passed over Harris's countenance.
"I know very little about the coast," he answered; "but I know enough to assure you that there is no town to the north within 300 or 400 miles."
"Then why should we not go south?" persisted Dick.
"You would then have to travel to Chili, which is almost as far; and, under your circumstances, I should not advise you to skirt the pampas of the Argentine Republic. For my own part, I could not accompany you."
"But do not the vessels which ply between Chili and Peru come within sight of this coast?" interposed Mrs. Weldon.
"No, madam; they keep out so far to sea that there would not be the faintest chance of your hailing one."
"You seem to have another question to ask Mr. Harris," Mrs. Weldon continued, addressing Dick, who still looked rather doubtful.
Dick replied that he was about to inquire at what port he would be likely to find a ship to convey their party to San Francisco.
"That I really cannot tell you, my young friend," rejoined Harris; "I can only repeat my promise that we will furnish you with the means of conveyance from San Felice to Atacama, where no doubt you will obtain all the information you require."
"I hope you will not think that Dick is insensible to your kindness, Mr. Harris," said Mrs. Weldon, apologetically.
"On the contrary," promptly observed Dick; "I fully appreciate it; I only wish we had been cast ashore upon a spot where we should have had no need to intrude upon his generosity."
"I assure you, madam, it gives me unbounded pleasure to serve you in any way," said Harris; "it is, as I have told you, not often that I come in contact with any of my own countrymen."
"Then we accept your offer as frankly as it is made," replied the lady, adding; "but I cannot consent to deprive you of your horse. I am a very good walker."
"So am I," said Harris, with a bow, "and consequently I intend you and your little son to ride. I am used to long tramps through the pampas. Besides, it is not at all unlikely that we shall come across some of the workpeople belonging to the hacienda; if so, they will be able to give us a mount."
Convinced that it would only be thwarting Mrs. Weldon's wishes to throw any further impediment in the way, Dick Sands suppressed his desire to raise fresh obstacles, and simply asked how soon they ought to start.
"This very day, at once," said Harris quickly.
"So soon?" asked Dick.
"Yes. The rainy season begins in April, and the sooner we are at San Felice the better. The way through the forest is the safest as well as the shortest, for we shall be less likely to meet any of the nomad Indians, who are notorious robbers."
Without making any direct reply, Dick proceeded to instruct the negroes to choose such of the provisions as were most easy of transport, and to make them up into packages, that every one might carry a due share. Hercules with his usual good nature professed himself willing to carry the entire load; a proposal, however, to which Dick would not listen for a moment.
"You are a fine fellow, Hercules" said Harris, scrutinizing the giant with the eye of a connoisseur; "you would be worth something in the African market."
"Those who want me now must catch me first," retorted Hercules, with a grin.
The services of all hands were enlisted, and in a comparatively short time sufficient food was packed up to supply the party for about ten days' march.
"You must allow us to show you what hospitality is in our power," said Mrs. Weldon, addressing her new acquaintance; "our breakfast will be ready in a quarter of an hour, and we shall be happy if you will join us."
"It will give me much pleasure," answered Harris, gaily; "I will employ the interval in fetching my horse, who has breakfasted already."
"I will accompany you," said Dick.
"By all means, my young friend; come with me, and I will show you the lower part of the river."
While they were gone, Hercules was sent in search of Cousin Benedict, who was wandering on the top of the cliff in quest of some wonderful insect, which, of course, was not to be found. Without asking his permission, Hercules unceremoniously brought him back to Mrs. Weldon, who explained how they were about to start upon a ten days' march into the interior of the country. The entomologist was quite satisfied with the arrangement, and declared himself ready for a march across the entire continent, as long as he was free to be adding to his collection on the way.
Thus assured of her cousin's acquiescence in her plans; Mrs. Weldon proceeded to prepare such a substantial meal as she hoped would invigorate them all for the approaching journey.
Harris and Dick Sands, meantime, had turned the corner of the cliff, and walked about 300 paces along the shore until they came to a tree to which a horse was tethered. The creature neighed as it recognized its master. It was a strong-built animal, of a kind that Dick had not seen
[Illustration: They came to a tree to which a horse was tethered.]
before, although its long neck and crupper, short loins, flat shoulders and arched forehead indicated that it was of Arabian breed.
"Plenty of strength here," Harris said, as after unfastening the horse, he took it by the bridle and began to lead it along the shore.
Dick made no reply; he was casting a hasty glance at the forest which enclosed them on either hand; it was an unattractive sight, but he observed nothing to give him any particular ground for uneasiness.
Turning round, he said abruptly,-
"Did you meet a Portuguese last night, named Negoro?"
"Negoro? who is Negoro?" asked Harris, in a tone of surprise.
"He was our ship's cook; but he has disappeared."
"Drowned, probably," said Harris indifferently.
"No, he was not drowned; he was with us during the evening, but left afterwards; I thought perhaps you might have met him along the river-side, as you came that way."
"No," said Harris, "I saw no one; if your cook ventured alone into the forest, most likely he has lost his way; it is possible we may pick him up upon our road."
When they arrived at the grotto, they found breakfast duly prepared. Like the supper of the previous evening it consisted mainly of corned beef and biscuit. Harris did ample justice to the repast.
"There is no fear of our starving as we go," he observed to Mrs. Weldon; "but I can hardly say so much for the unfortunate Portuguese, your cook, of whom my young friend here has been speaking."
"Ah! has Dick been telling you about Negoro?" Mrs. Weldon said.
Dick explained that he had been inquiring whether Mr. Harris had happened to meet him in the direction he had come.
"I saw nothing of him," Harris repeated; "and as he has deserted you, you need not give yourselves any concern about him." And apparently glad to turn the subject, he said, "Now, madam, I am at your service; shall we start at once?"
It was agreed that there was no cause for delay. Each one took up the package that had been assigned him. Mrs. Weldon, with Hercules' help, mounted the horse, and Jack, with his miniature gun slung across his shoulder, was placed astride in front of her. Without a thought of acknowledging the kindness of the good-natured stranger in providing him so enjoyable a ride, the heedless little fellow declared himself quite capable of guiding the "gentleman's horse," and when to indulge him the bridle was put into his hand, he looked as proud as though he had been appointed leader of the whole caravan.
CHAPTER XVI.
THROUGH THE FOREST.
Although there was no obvious cause for apprehension, it cannot be denied that it was with a certain degree of foreboding that Dick Sands first entered that dense forest, through which for the next ten days they were all to wend their toilsome way.
Mrs. Weldon, on the contrary, was full of confidence and hope. A woman and a mother, she might have been expected to be conscious of anxiety at the peril to which she might be exposing herself and her child; and doubtless she would have been sensible of alarm if her mind had not been fully satisfied upon two points; first, that the portion of the pampas they were about to traverse was little infested either by natives or by dangerous beasts; and secondly, that she was under the protection of a guide so trustworthy as she believed Harris to be.
The entrance to the forest was hardly more than three hundred paces up the river. An order of march had been arranged which was to be observed as closely as possible throughout the journey. At the head of the troop were Harris and Dick Sands, one armed with his long gun, the other with his Remington; next came Bat and Austin, each carrying a gun and a cutlass, then Mrs. Weldon and Jack, on horseback, closely followed by Tom and old Nan, while Actæon with the fourth Remington, and Hercules with a huge hatchet in his waist-belt, brought up the rear. Dingo had no especial place in the procession, but wandered to and fro at his pleasure. Ever since he had been cast ashore Dick had noticed a remarkable change in the dog's behaviour; the animal was in a constant state of agitation, always apparently on the search for some lost scent, and repeatedly giving vent to a low growl, which seemed to proceed from grief rather than from rage.
As for Cousin Benedict, his movements were permitted to be nearly as erratic as Dingo's; nothing but a leading-string could possibly have kept him in the ranks. With his tin box under his arm, and his butterfly net in his hand, and his huge magnifying-glass suspended from his neck, he would be sometimes far ahead, sometimes a long way behind, and at the risk of being attacked by some venomous snake, would make frantic dashes into the tall grass whenever he espied some attractive orthoptera or other insect which he thought might be honoured by a place in his collection.
In one hour after starting Mrs. Weldon had called to him a dozen times without the slightest effect. At last she told him seriously that if he would not give up chasing the insects at a distance, she should be obliged to take possession of his tin box.
"Take away my box!" he cried, with as much horror as if she had threatened to tear out his vitals.
"Yes, your box and your net too!"
"My box and my net! but surely not my spectacles!" almost shrieked the excited entomologist.
"Yes, and your spectacles as well!" added Mrs. Weldon mercilessly; "I am glad you have reminded me of another means of reducing you to obedience!"
The triple penalty of which he was thus warned had the effect of keeping him from wandering away for the best part of the next hour, but he was soon once more missing from the ranks; he was manifestly incorrigible; the deprivation of box, net, and spectacles would, it was acknowledged, be utterly without avail to prevent him from rambling. Accordingly it was thought better to let him have his own way, especially as Hercules volunteered to keep his eye upon him, and to endeavour to guard the worthy naturalist as carefully as he would himself protect some precious
[Illustration: The way across the forest could scarcely be called a path.]
specimen of a lepidoptera. Further anxiety on his account was thus put to rest.
In spite of Harris's confident assertion that they were little likely to be molested by any of the nomad Indians, the whole company rejoiced in feeling that they were well armed, and they resolved to keep in a compact body. The way across the forest could scarcely be called a path; it was, in fact, little more than the track of animals, and progress along it was necessarily very slow; indeed it seemed impossible, at the rate they started, to accomplish more than five or six miles in the course of twelve hours.
The weather was beautifully fine; the sun ascended nearly to the zenith, and its rays, descending almost perpendicularly, caused a degree of heat which, as Harris pointed out, would have been unendurable upon the open plain, but was here pleasantly tempered by the shelter of the foliage.
Most of the trees were quite strange to them. To an experienced eye they were such as were remarkable more for their character then for their size. Here, on one side, was the bauhinia, or mountain ebony; there, on the other, the molompi or pterocarpus, its trunk exuding large quantities of resin, and of which the strong light wood makes excellent oars or paddles; further on were fustics heavily charged with colouring matter, and guaiacums, twelve feet in diameter, surpassing the ordinary kind in magnitude, yet far inferior in quality.
Dick Sands kept perpetually asking Harris to tell him the names of all these trees and plants.
"Have you never been on the coast of South America before?" replied Harris, without giving the explicit information that was sought.
"Never," said Dick; "never before. Nor do I recollect ever having seen any one who has."
"But surely you have explored the coasts of Columbia or Patagonia," Harris continued.
Dick avowed that he had never had the chance.
"But has Mrs. Weldon never visited these parts? Our countrymen, I know, are great travellers."
"No," answered Mrs. Weldon; "my husband's business called him occasionally to New Zealand, but I have accompanied him nowhere else. With this part of Lower Bolivia we are totally unacquainted."
"Then, madam, I can only assure you that you will see a most remarkable country, in every way a very striking contrast to the regions of Peru, Brazil, and the Argentine republic. Its animal and vegetable products would fill a naturalist with unbounded wonder. May I not declare it a lucky chance that has brought you here?"
"Do not say chance, Mr. Harris, if you please."
"Well, then, madam; providence, if you prefer it," said Harris, with the air of a man incapable of recognizing the distinction.
After finding that there was no one amongst them who was acquainted in any way with the country through which they were travelling, Harris seemed to exhibit an evident pleasure in pointing out and describing by name the various wonders of the forest. Had Cousin Benedict's attainments included a knowledge of botany he would have found himself in a fine field for researches, and might perchance have discovered novelties to which his own name could be appended in the catalogues of science. But he was no botanist; in fact, as a rule, he held all blossoms in aversion, on the ground that they entrapped insects into their corollæ, and poisoned them sometimes with venomous juices. New and rare insects, however, seemed hereabouts to be wanting.
Occasionally the soil became marshy, and they all had to wend their way over a perfect network of tiny rivulets that were affluents of the river from which they had started. Sometimes these rivulets were so wide that they could not be passed without a long search for some spot where they could be forded; their banks were all very damp, and in many places abounded with a kind of reed, which Harris called by its proper name of papyrus.
As soon as the marshy district had been passed, the forest resumed its original aspect, the footway becoming narrow as ever. Harris pointed out some very fine ebony-trees,
[Illustration: Occasionally the soil became marshy.]
larger than the common sort, and yielding a wood darker and more durable than what is ordinarily seen in the market. There were also more mango-trees than might have been expected at this distance from the sea; a beautiful white lichen enveloped their trunks like a fur; but in spite of their luxuriant foliage and delicious fruit, Harris said that there was not a native who would venture to propagate the species, as the superstition of the country is that "whoever plants a mango, dies!"
At noon a halt was made for the purpose of rest and refreshment. During the afternoon they arrived at some gently rising ground, not the first slopes of hills, but an insulated plateau which appeared to unite mountains and plains. Notwithstanding that the trees were far less crowded and more inclined to grow in detached groups, the numbers of herbaceous plants with which the soil was covered rendered progress no less difficult than it was before. The general aspect of the scene was not unlike an East Indian jungle. Less luxuriant indeed than in the lower valley of the river, the vegetation was far more abundant than that of the temperate zones either of the Old or New continents. Indigo grew in great profusion, and, according to Harris's representation, was the most encroaching plant in the whole country; no sooner, he said, was a field left untilled, than it was overrun by this parasite, which sprang up with the rank growth of thistles or nettles.
One tree which might have been expected to be common in this part of the continent seemed entirely wanting. This was the caoutchouc. Of the various trees from which India-rubber is procured, such as the Ficus prinoides, the Castilioa elastica, the Cecropia peltata, the Callophora utilis, the Cameraria latifolia, and especially the Siphonia elastica, all of which abound in the provinces of South America, not a single specimen was to be seen. Dick had promised to show Jack an India-rubber-tree, and the child, who had conjured up visions of squeaking dolls, balls, and other toys growing upon its branches, was loud and constant in his expressions of disappointment.
"Never mind, my little man," said Harris; "have patience, and you shall see hundreds of India-rubber-trees when you get to the hacienda."
"And will they be nice and elastic?" asked Jack, whose ideas upon the subject were of the vaguest order.
"Oh, yes, they will stretch as long as you like," Harris answered, laughing. "But here is something to amuse you," he added, and as he spoke, he gathered a fruit that looked as tempting as a peach.
"You are quite sure that it is safe to give it him?" said Mrs. Weldon anxiously.
"To satisfy you, madam, I will eat one first myself."
The example he set was soon followed by all the rest. The fruit was a mango; that which had been so opportunely discovered was of the sort that ripens in March or April; there is a later kind which ripens in September. With his mouth full of juice, Jack pronounced that it was very nice, but did not seem to be altogether diverted from his sense of disappointment at not coming to an India-rubber-tree. Evidently the little man thought himself rather injured.
"And Dick promised me some humming-birds too!" he murmured.
"Plenty of humming-birds for you, when you get to the farm; lots of them where my brother lives," said Harris.
And to say the truth, there was nothing extravagant in the way the child's anticipations had been raised, for in Bolivia humming-birds are found in great abundance. The Indians, who weave their plumage into all kinds of artistic designs, have bestowed the most poetical epithets upon these gems of the feathered race. They call them "rays of the sun," and "tresses of the day-star;" at one time they will describe them as "king of flowers," at another as "blossoms of heaven kissing blossoms of earth," or as "the jewel that reflects the sunbeam." In fact their imagination seems to have shaped a suitable distinction for almost every one of the 150 known species of this dazzling little beauty.
But however numerous humming-birds might be expected to be in the Bolivian forest, they proved scarce enough at present, and Jack had to content himself with Harris's representations that they did not like solitude, but would be found plentifully at San Felice, where they would be heard all day long humming like a spinning-wheel. Already Jack said he longed to be there, a wish that was so unanimously echoed by all the rest, that they resolved that no stoppage should be allowed beyond what was absolutely indispensable.
After a time the forest began to alter its aspect. The trees were even less crowded, opening now and then into wide glades. The soil, cropping up above its carpet of verdure, exhibited veins of rose granite and syenite, like plates of lapis lazuli; on some of the higher ground, the fleshy tubers of the sarsaparilla plant, growing in a hopeless entanglement, made progress a matter of still greater difficulty than in the narrow tracks of the dense forest.
At sunset the travellers found that they had accomplished about eight miles from their starting-point. They could not prognosticate what hardships might be in store for them on future days, but it was certain that the experiences of the first day had been neither eventful nor very fatiguing. It was now unanimously agreed that they should make a halt for the night, and as little was to be apprehended from the attacks either of man or beast, it was considered unnecessary to form anything like a regular encampment. One man on guard, to be relieved every few hours, was presumed to be sufficient. Admirable shelter was offered by an enormous mango, the spreading foliage of which formed a kind of natural verandah, sweeping the ground so thoroughly that any one who chose could find sleeping-quarters in its very branches.
Simultaneously with the halting of the party there was heard a deafening tumult in the upper boughs. The mango was the roosting place of a colony of grey parrots, a noisy, quarrelsome, and rapacious race, of whose true characteristics the specimens seen in confinement in Europe give no true conception. Their screeching and chattering were such a nuisance that Dick Sands wanted to fire a shot into the middle of them, but Harris seriously dissuaded him, urging that the report of firearms would only serve to reveal their own presence, whilst their greatest safety lay in perfect silence.
Supper was prepared. There was little need of cooking. The meal, as before, consisted of preserved meat and biscuit. Fresh water, which they flavoured with a few drops of rum, was obtained from an adjacent stream which trickled through the grass. By way of dessert they had an abundance of ripe mangoes, and the only drawback to their general enjoyment was the discordant outcry which the parrots kept up, as it were in protest against the invasion of what they held to be their own rightful domain.
It was nearly dark when supper was ended. The evening shade crept slowly upwards to the tops of the trees, which soon stood out in sharp relief against the lighter background of the sky, while the stars, one by one, began to peep. The wind dropped, and ceased to murmur through the foliage; to the general relief, the parrots desisted from their clatter; and as Nature hushed herself to rest, she seemed to be inviting all her children to follow her example.
"Had we not better light a good large fire?" asked Dick.
"By no means," said Harris; "the nights are not cold, and under this wide-spreading mango the ground is not likely to be damp. Besides, as I have told you before, our best security consists in our taking care to attract no attention whatever from without."
Mrs. Weldon interposed,-
"It may be true enough that we have nothing to dread from the Indians, but is it certain that there are no dangerous quadrupeds against which we are bound to be upon our guard?"
Harris answered,-
"I can positively assure you, madam, that there are no animals here but such as would be infinitely more afraid of you than you would be of them."
"Are there any woods without wild beasts?" asked Jack.
"All woods are not alike, my boy," replied Harris;
"this wood is a great park. As the Indians say, 'Es como el Pariso;' it is like Paradise."
Jack persisted,-
"There must be snakes, and lions, and tigers."
"Ask your mamma, my boy," said Harris, "whether she ever heard of lions and tigers in America?"
Mrs. Weldon was endeavouring to put her little boy at his ease on this point, when Cousin Benedict interposed, saying that although there were no lions or tigers, there were plenty of jaguars and panthers in the New World.
"And won't they kill us?" demanded Jack eagerly, his apprehensions once more aroused.
"Kill you?" laughed Harris; "why, your friend Hercules here could strangle them, two at a time, one in each hand!"
"But, please, don't let the panthers come near me!" pleaded Jack, evidently alarmed.
"No, no, Master Jack, they shall not come near you. I will give them a good grip first," and the giant displayed his two rows of huge white teeth.
Dick Sands proposed that it should be the four younger negroes who should be assigned the task of keeping watch during the night, in attendance upon himself; but Actæon insisted so strongly upon the necessity of Dick's having his full share of rest, that the others were soon brought to the same conviction, and Dick was obliged to yield.
Jack valiantly announced his intention of taking one watch, but his sleepy eyelids made it only too plain that he did not know the extent of his own fatigue.
"I am sure there are wolves here," he said.
"Only such wolves as Dingo would swallow at a mouthful," said Harris.
"But I am sure there are wolves," he insisted, repeating the word "wolves" again and again, until he tumbled off to sleep against the side of old Nan. Mrs. Weldon gave her little son a silent kiss; it was her loving "good night."
Cousin Benedict was missing. Some little time before, he had slipped away in search of "cocuyos," or fire-flies, which he had heard were common in South America.
Those singular insects emit a bright bluish light from two spots on the side of the thorax, and their colours are so brilliant that they are used as ornaments for ladies' headdresses. Hoping to secure some specimens for his box, Benedict would have wandered to an unlimited distance; but Hercules, faithful to his undertaking, soon discovered him, and heedless of the naturalist's protestations and vociferations, promptly escorted him back to the general rendezvous.
Hercules himself was the first to keep watch, but with this exception, the whole party, in another hour, were wrapped in peaceful slumber.
[Illustration: Hercules himself was the first to keep watch.]
CHAPTER XVII
MISGIVINGS.
Most travellers who have passed a night in a South American forest have been roused from their slumbers by a matinée musicale more fantastic than melodious, performed by monkeys, as their ordinary greeting of the dawn. The yelling, chattering, screeching, howling, all unite to form a chorus almost unearthly in its hideousness.
Amongst the various specimens of the numerous family of the quadrumana ought to be recognized the little marikina; the sagouin, with its parti-coloured face; the grey mora, the skin of which is used by the Indians for covering their gun-locks; the sapajou, with its singular tuft over the forehead, and, most remarkable of all, the guariba (Simia Beelzebul) with its prehensile tail and diabolical countenance.
At the first streak of daylight the senior member, as choragus, will start the key-note in a sonorous barytone, the younger monkeys join in tenor and alto, and the concert begins. But this morning there was no concert at all. There was nothing of the wonted serenade to break the silence of the forest. The shrill notes resulting from the rapid vibration of the hyoid bones of the throat were not to be heard. Indians would have been disappointed and perplexed; they are very fond of the flesh of the guariba when smoked and dried, and they would certainly have missed the chant of the monkey "paternosters;" but Dick Sands and his companions were unfamiliar with any of these things, and accordingly the singular quietude was to them a matter of no surprise.
They all awoke much refreshed by their night's rest, which there had been nothing to disturb. Jack was by no means the latest in opening his eyes, and his first words were addressed to Hercules, asking him whether he had caught a wolf with his teeth. Hercules had to acknowledge that he had tasted nothing all night, and declared himself quite ready for breakfast. The whole party were unanimous in this respect, and after a brief morning prayer, breakfast was expeditiously served by old Nan. The meal was but a repetition of the last evening's supper, but with their appetites sharpened by the fresh forest air, and anxious to fortify themselves for a good day's march, they did not fail to do ample justice to their simple fare. Even Cousin Benedict, for once in his life at least, partook of his food as if it were not utterly a matter of indifference to him; but he grumbled very much at the restraint to which he considered himself subjected; he could not see the good of coming to such a country as this, if he were to be obliged to walk about with his hands in his pockets; and he protested that if Hercules did not leave him alone and permit him to catch fire-flies, there would be a bone to pick between them. Hercules did not look very much alarmed at the threat. Mrs. Weldon, however, took him aside, and telling him that she did not wish to deprive the enthusiast entirely of his favourite occupation, instructed him to allow her cousin as much liberty as possible, provided he did not lose sight of him.
The morning meal was over, and it was only seven o'clock when the travellers were once more on their way towards the east, preserving the same marching-order as on the day before.
The path was still through luxuriant forest. The vegetable kingdom reigned supreme. As the plateau was immediately adjacent to tropical latitudes, the sun's rays during the summer months descended perpendicularly upon the virgin soil, and the vast amount of heat thus obtained combined with the abundant moisture retained in the subsoil, caused vegetation to assume a character which was truly magnificent.
Dick Sands could not overcome a certain sense of mystification. Here they were, as Harris told them, in the region of the pampas, a word which he knew in the Quichna dialect signifies "a plain;" but he had always read that these plains were characterized by a deficiency alike of water, of trees, and rocks; he had always understood that during the rainy season, thistles spring up in great abundance and grow until they form thickets that are well-nigh impenetrable; he had imagined that the few dwarf trees and prickly shrubs that exist during the summer only stamp the general scene with an aspect of yet more thorough bareness and desolation. But how different was everything to all this! The forest never ceased to stretch away interminably to the horizon. There were no tokens of the rough nakedness that he had expected. Dick seemed to be driven to the conclusion that Harris was right in describing this plateau of Atacama, which he had for his part most firmly believed to be a vast desert between the Andes and the Pacific, as a region that was quite exceptional in its natural features.
It was not in Dick's character to keep his reflections to himself. In the course of the morning he expressed his extreme surprise at finding the pampas answer so little to his preconceived ideas.
"Have I not understood correctly," he said, "that the pampas is similar to the North American savannahs, only less marshy?"
Harris replied that such was indeed a correct description of the pampas of Rio Colorado, and the Ilanos of Venezuela and the Orinoco.
"But," he continued, "I own I am as much astonished as yourself at the character of this region; I have never crossed the plateau before, and I must confess it is altogether different to what you find beyond the Andes towards the Atlantic."
"You don't mean that we are going to cross the Andes?" said Dick, in sudden alarm.
Harris smiled.
"No, no, indeed. With our limited means of transport such an undertaking would have been rash in the extreme. We had better have kept to the coast for ever rather than incur such a risk. Our destination, San Felice, is on this side of the range, and in order to reach it, we shall not have to leave the plateau, of which the greatest elevation is but little over 1500 feet."
"And you say," Dick persisted, "that you have really no fear of losing your way in a forest such as this, a forest into which you have never set foot before?"
"No fear whatever," Harris answered; "so accustomed am I to travelling of this kind, that I can steer my way by a thousand signs revealing themselves in the growth of the trees, and in the composition of the soil, which would never present themselves to your notice. I assure you that I anticipate no difficulties."
This conversation was not heard by any of the rest of the party. Harris seemed to speak as frankly as he did fearlessly, and Dick felt that there might be, after all, no just grounds for any of his own misgivings.
Five days passed by, and the 12th of April arrived without any special incident. Nine miles had been the average distance accomplished in a day; regular periods of rest had been taken, and, except that Jack's spirits had somewhat flagged, the fatigue did not seem to have interfered with the general good health of the travellers.
First disappointed of his India-rubber-tree, and then of his humming birds, Jack had inquired about the beautiful parrots which he had been led to expect he should see in this wonderful forest. Where were the bright green macaws? where were the gaudy aras with their bare white cheeks and pointed tails, which seem never to light upon the ground? and where, too, were all the brilliant parroquets, with their feathered faces, and indeed the whole variety of those forest chatterers of which the Indians affirm that they speak the language of nations long extinct?
It is true that there was no lack of the common grey parrots with crimson tails, but these were no novelty; Jack
[Illustration: "Don't Fire!">[
had seen plenty of them before, for owing to their reputation of being the most clever in mimickry of the Psittacidæ, they have been domesticated everywhere in both the Old and New worlds.
But Jack's dissatisfaction was nothing compared to Cousin Benedict's. In spite of being allowed to wander away from the rank, he had failed to discover a single insect which was worth the pursuit; not even a fire-fly danced at night; nature seemed to be mocking him, and his ill-humour increased accordingly.
In this way the journey was continued for four days longer, and on the 16th it was estimated that they must have travelled between eighty and ninety miles north-eastwards from the coast. Harris positively asserted that they could not be much more than twenty miles from San Felice, and that by pushing forwards they might expect in eight-and-forty hours to find themselves lodged in comfortable quarters.
But although they had thus succeeded in traversing this vast table-land, they had not seen one human inhabitant. Dick was more than ever perplexed, and it was a subject of bitter regret to him that they had not stranded upon some more frequented part of the shore, near some village or plantation where Mrs. Weldon might long since have found a suitable refuge.
Deserted, however, as the country apparently was by man, it had latterly shown itself much more abundantly tenanted by animals. Many a time a long, plaintive cry was heard, which Harris attributed to the tardigrades or sloths often found in wooded districts, and known by the name of "ais;" and in the middle of the dinner-halt on this day, a loud hissing suddenly broke upon the air which made Mrs. Weldon start to her feet in alarm.
"A serpent!" cried Dick, catching up his loaded gun.
The negroes, following Dick's example, were in a moment on the alert.
"Don't fire!" cried Harris.
There was indeed nothing improbable in the supposition that a "sucuru," a species of boa, sometimes measuring forty feet in length, had just moved itself in the long grass at their side, but Harris affirmed that the "sucuru" never hisses, and declared that the noise had really come from animals of an entirely inoffensive character.
"What animals?" asked Dick, always eager for information, which it must be granted Harris seemed always equally anxious to give.
"Antelopes," replied Harris; "but, hush! not a sound, or you will frighten them away."
"Antelopes!" cried Dick; "I must see them; I must get close to them."
"More easily said than done," answered Harris, shaking his head; but Dick was not to be diverted from his purpose, and, gun in hand, crept into the grass. He had not advanced many yards before a herd of about a dozen gazelles, graceful in body, with short, pointed horns, dashed past him like a glowing cloud, and disappeared in the underwood without giving him time to take a shot.
"I told you beforehand what you would have to expect," said Harris, as Dick, with a considerable sense of disappointment, returned to the party.
Impossible, however, as it had been fairly to scrutinize the antelopes, such was hardly the case with another herd of animals, the identification of which led to a somewhat singular discussion between Harris and the rest.
About four o'clock on the afternoon of the same day, the travellers were halting for a few moments near an opening in the forest, when three or four large animals emerged from a thicket about a hundred paces ahead, and scampered off at full speed. In spite of what Harris had urged, Dick put his gun to his shoulder, and was on the very point of firing, when Harris knocked the rifle quickly aside.
"They were giraffes!" shouted Dick.
The announcement awakened the curiosity of Jack, who quickly scrambled to his feet upon the saddle on which he was lounging.
"My dear Dick," said Mrs. Weldon, "there are no giraffes in America!"
[Illustration: A herd of gazelles dashed past him like a glowing cloud.]
"Certainly not," cried Harris; "they were not giraffes, they were ostriches which you saw!"
"Ostriches with four legs! that will never do! what do you say. Mrs. Weldon?"
Mrs. Weldon replied that she had certainly taken the animals for quadrupeds, and all the negroes were under the same impression.
Laughing heartily, Harris said it was far from an uncommon thing for an inexperienced eye to mistake a large ostrich for a small giraffe; the shape of both was so similar, that it often quite escaped observation as to whether the long necks terminated in a beak or a muzzle; besides, what need of discussion could there be when the fact was established that giraffes are unknown in the New World? The reasoning was plausible enough, and Mrs Weldon and the negroes were soon convinced. But Dick was far from satisfied.
"I did not know that there was an American ostrich!" he again objected.
"Oh, yes," replied Harris promptly, "there is a species called the nandu, which is very well known here; we shall probably see some more of them."
The statement was correct; the nandu is common in the plains of South America, and is distinguished from the African ostrich by having three toes, all furnished with claws. It is a fine bird, sometimes exceeding six feet in height; it has a short beak, and its wings are furnished with blue-grey plumes. Harris appeared well acquainted with the bird, and proceeded to give a very precise account of its habits. In concluding his remarks, he again pressed upon Dick his most urgent request that he should abstain from firing upon any animal whatever. It was of the utmost consequence.
Dick made no reply. He was silent and thoughtful. Grave doubts had arisen in his mind, and he could neither explain nor dispel them.
When the march was resumed on the following day, Harris asserted his conviction that another four-and-twenty hours would bring them to the hacienda.
"And there, madam," he said, addressing Mrs. Weldon, "we can offer you every essential comfort, though you may not find the luxuries of your own home in San Francisco."
Mrs. Weldon repeated her expression of gratitude for the proffered hospitality, owning that she should now be exceedingly glad to reach the farm, as she was anxious about her little son, who appeared to be threatened with the symptoms of incipient fever.
Harris could not deny that although the climate was usually very healthy, it nevertheless did occasionally produce a kind of intermittent fever during March and April.
"But nature has provided the proper remedy," said Dick; and perceiving that Harris did not comprehend his meaning, he continued, "Are we not in the region of the quinquinas, the bark of which is notoriously the medicine with which attacks of fever are usually treated? for my part, I am amazed that we have not seen numbers of them already."
"Ah! yes, yes; I know what you mean," answered Harris, after a moment's hesitation; "they are trees, however, not always easy to find; they rarely grow in groups, and in spite of their large leaves and fragrant red blossom, the Indians themselves often have a difficulty in recognizing them; the feature that distinguishes them most is their evergreen foliage"
At Mrs. Weldon's request, Harris promised to point out the tree if he should see one, but added that when she reached the hacienda, she would be able to obtain some sulphate of quinine, which was much more efficacious than the unprepared bark.
[Footnote: This bark was formerly, reduced to powder, known as "Pulvis Jesuiticus," because in the year 1649 the Jesuits in Rome imported a large quantity of it from their missionaries in South America.]
The day passed without further incident. No rain had fallen at present, though the warm mist that rose from the soil betokened an approaching change of weather; the rainy season was certainly not far distant, but to travellers
[Illustration: A halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. ]
who indulged the expectation of being in a few hours in a place of shelter, this was not a matter of great concern.
Evening came, and a halt was made for the night beneath a grove of lofty trees. If Harris had not miscalculated, they could hardly be more than about six miles from their destination; so confirmed, however, was Dick Sands in his strange suspicions, that nothing could induce him to relax any of the usual precautions, and he particularly insisted upon the negroes, turn by turn, keeping up the accustomed watch.
Worn out by fatigue, the little party were glad to lie down, but they had scarcely dropped off to sleep when they were aroused by a sharp cry.
"Who's that? who's there? what's the matter?" exclaimed Dick, the first to rise to his feet.
"It is I," answered Benedict's voice; "I am bitten. Something has bitten me."
"A snake!" exclaimed Mrs. Weldon in alarm.
"No, no, cousin, better than that! it was not a snake; I believe it was an orthoptera; I have it all right," he shouted triumphantly.
"Then kill it quickly, sir; and let us go to sleep again in peace," said Harris.
"Kill it! not for the world! I must have a light, and look at it!"
Dick Sands indulged him, for reasons of his own, in getting a light. The entomologist carefully opened his hand and displayed an insect somewhat smaller than a bee, of a dull colour, streaked with yellow on the under portion of the body. He looked radiant with delight.
"A diptera!" he exclaimed, half beside himself with joy, "a most famous diptera!"
"Is it venomous?" asked Mrs. Weldon.
"Not at all to men; it only hurts elephants and buffaloes."
"But tell us its name! what is it?" cried Dick impetuously.
The naturalist began to speak in a slow, oracular tone.
"This insect is here a prodigy; it is an insect totally unknown in this country,-in America."
"Tell us its name!" roared Dick.
"It is a tzetzy, sir, a true tzetzy."
Dick's heart sank like a stone. He was speechless. He did not, dared not, ask more. Only too well he knew where the tzetzy could alone be found. He did not close his eyes again that night.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A TERRIBLE DISCOVERY.
The morning of the 18th dawned, the day on which, according to Harris's prediction, the travellers were to be safely housed at San Felice. Mrs. Weldon was really much relieved at the prospect, for she was aware that her strength must prove inadequate to the strain of a more protracted journey. The condition of her little boy, who was alternately flushed with fever, and pale with exhaustion, had begun to cause her great anxiety, and unwilling to resign the care of the child even to Nan his faithful nurse, she insisted upon carrying him in her own arms. Twelve days and nights, passed in the open air, had done much to try her powers of endurance, and the charge of a sick child in addition would soon break down her strength entirely.
Dick Sands, Nan, and the negroes had all borne the march very fairly. Their stock of provisions, though of course considerably diminished, was still far from small. As for Harris, he had shown himself pre-eminently adapted for forest-life, and capable of bearing any amount of fatigue. Yet, strange to say, as he approached the end of the journey, his manner underwent a remarkable change; instead of conversing in his ordinary frank and easy way, he became silent and preoccupied, as if engrossed in his own thoughts. Perhaps he had an instinctive consciousness that "his young friend," as he was in the habit of addressing Dick, was entertaining hard suspicions about him.
The march was resumed. The trees once again ceased to be crowded in impenetrable masses, but stood in clusters at considerable distances apart. Now, Dick tried to argue with himself, they must be coming to the true pampas, or the man must be designedly misleading them; and yet what motive could he have?
Although during the earlier part of the day there occurred nothing that could be said absolutely to justify Dick's increasing uneasiness, two circumstances transpired which did not escape his observation, and which, he felt, might be significant. The first of these was a sudden change in Dingo's behaviour. The dog, throughout the march, had uniformly run along with his nose upon the ground, smelling the grass and shrubs, and occasionally uttering a sad low whine; but to-day he seemed all agitation; he scampered about with bristling coat, with his head erect, and ever and again burst into one of those furious fits of barking, with which he had formerly been accustomed to greet Negoro's appearance upon the deck of the "Pilgrim."
The idea that flitted across Dick's mind was shared by Tom.
"Look, Mr. Dick, look at Dingo; he is at his old ways again," said he; "it is just as if Negoro...."
"Hush!" said Dick to the old man, who continued in a lower voice,-
"It is just as if Negoro had followed us; do you think it is likely?"
"It might perhaps be to his advantage to follow us, if he doesn't know the country; but if he does know the country, why then...."
Dick did not finish his sentence, but whistled to Dingo. The dog reluctantly obeyed the call.
As soon as the dog was at his side, Dick patted him, repeating,-
"Good dog! good Dingo! where's Negoro?"
The sound of Negoro's name had its usual effect; it seemed to irritate the animal exceedingly, and he barked furiously, and apparently wanted to dash into the thicket.
Harris had been an interested spectator of the scene, and now approached with a peculiar expression on his countenance, and inquired what they were saying to Dingo.
"Oh, nothing much," replied Tom; "we were only asking him for news of a lost acquaintance."
"Ah, I suppose you mean that Portuguese cook of yours."
"Yes," answered Tom; "we fancied from Dingo's behaviour, that Negoro must be somewhere close at hand."
"Why don't you send and search the underwood? perhaps the poor wretch is in distress."
"No need of that, Mr. Harris; Negoro, I have no doubt, is quite capable of taking care of himself."
"Well, just as you please, my young friend," said Harris, with an air of indifference.
Dick turned away; he continued his endeavours to pacify Dingo, and the conversation dropped.
The other thing that had arrested Dick's attention was the behaviour of the horse. If they had been as near the hacienda as Harris described, would not the animal have pricked up its ears, sniffed the air, and with dilated nostril, exhibited some sign of satisfaction, as being upon familiar ground?
But nothing of the kind was to be observed; the horse plodded along as unconcernedly as if a stable were as far away as ever.
Even Mrs. Weldon was not so engrossed with her child, but what she was fain to express her wonder at the deserted aspect of the country. No trace of a farm-labourer was anywhere to be seen! She cast her eye at Harris, who was in his usual place in front, and observing how he was looking first to the left, and then to the right, with the air of a man who was uncertain of his path, she asked herself whether it was possible their guide might have lost his way. She dared not entertain the idea, and averted her eyes, that she might not be harassed by his movements.
After crossing an open plain about a mile in width, the travellers once again entered the forest, which resumed something of the same denseness that had characterized it farther to the west. In the course of the afternoon, they came to a spot which was marked very distinctly by the vestiges of some enormous animals, which must have passed quite recently. As Dick looked carefully about him, he observed that the branches were all torn off or broken to a considerable height, and that the foot-tracks in the trampled grass were much too large to be those either of jaguars or panthers. Even if it were possible that the prints on the ground had been made by ais or other taidigrades, this would fail to account in the least for the trees being broken to such a height. Elephants alone were capable of working such destruction in the underwood, but elephants were unknown in America. Dick was puzzled, but controlled himself so that he would not apply to Harris for any enlightenment; his intuition made him aware that a man who had once tried to make him believe that giraffes were ostriches, would not hesitate a second time to impose upon his credulity.
More than ever was Dick becoming convinced that Harris was a traitor, and he was secretly prompted to tax him with his treachery. Still he was obliged to own that he could not assign any motive for the man acting in such a manner with the survivors of the "Pilgrim," and consequently hesitated before he actually condemned him for conduct so base and heartless. What could be done? he repeatedly asked himself. On board ship the boy captain might perchance have been able to devise some plan for the safety of those so strangely committed to his charge, but here on an unknown shore, he could only suffer from the burden of this responsibility the more, because he was so utterly powerless to act.
He made up his mind on one point. He determined not to alarm the poor anxious mother a moment before he was actually compelled. It was his carrying out this determination that explained why on subsequently arriving at a considerable stream, where he saw some huge heads, swollen muzzles, long tusks and unwieldy bodies rising from amidst the rank wet grass, he uttered no word and gave no gesture of surprise; but only too well he knew, at a glance, that he must be looking at a herd of hippopotamuses.
[Illustration: "Look here! here are hands, men's hands.">[
It was a weary march that day; a general feeling of depression spread involuntarily from one to another; hardly conscious to herself of her weariness, Mrs. Weldon was exhibiting manifest symptoms of lassitude; and it was only Dick's moral energy and sense of duty that kept him from succumbing to the prevailing dejection.
About four o'clock, Tom noticed something lying in the grass, and stooping down he picked up a kind of knife; it was of peculiar shape, being very wide and flat in the blade, while its handle, which was of ivory, was ornamented with a good deal of clumsy carving. He carried it at once to Dick, who, when he had scrutinized it, held it up to Harris, with the remark,-
"There must be natives not far off."
"Quite right, my young friend; the hacienda must be a very few miles away,-but yet, but yet...."
He hesitated.
"You don't mean that you are not sure of your way," said Dick sharply."
"Not exactly that," replied Harris; "yet in taking this short cut across the forest, I am inclined to think I am a mile or so out of the way. Perhaps I had better walk on a little way, and look about me."
"No; you do not leave us here," cried Dick firmly.
"Not against your will; but remember, I do not undertake to guide you in the dark."
"We must spare you the necessity for that. I can answer for it that Mrs. Weldon will raise no objection to spending another night in the open air. We can start off to-morrow morning as early as we like, and if the distance be only what you represent, a few hours will easily accomplish it."
"As you please," answered Harris with cold civility.
Just then, Dingo again burst out into a vehement fit of barking, and it required no small amount of coaxing on Dick's part to make him cease from his noise.
It was decided that the halt should be made at once. Mrs. Weldon, as it had been anticipated, urged nothing against it, being preoccupied by her immediate attentions to Jack, who was lying in her arms, suffering from a decided attack of fever. The shelter of a large thicket had just been selected by Dick as a suitable resting-place for the night, when Tom, who was assisting in the necessary preparations, suddenly gave a cry of horror.
"What is it, Tom?" asked Dick very calmly.
"Look! look at these trees! they are spattered with blood! and look here! here are hands, men's hands, cut off and lying on the ground!"
"What?" cried Dick, and in an instant was at his side.
His presence of mind did not fail him; he whispered,-
"Hush! Tom! hush! not a word!"
But it was with a shudder that ran through his veins that he witnessed for himself the mutilated fragments of several human bodies, and saw, lying beside them, some broken forks, and some bits of iron chain.
The sight of the gory remains made Dingo bark ferociously, and Dick, who was most anxious that Mrs. Weldon's attention should not be called to the discovery, had the greatest difficulty in driving him back; but fortunately the lady's mind was so engrossed with her patient, that she did not observe the commotion. Harris stood aloof; there was no one to notice the change that passed over his countenance, but the expression was almost diabolical in its malignity.
Poor old Tom himself seemed perfectly spell-bound. With his hands clenched, his eyes dilated, and his breast heaving with emotion, he kept repeating without anything like coherence, the words,-
"Forks! chains! forks! ... long ago ... remember ... too well ... chains!"
"For Mrs. Weldon's sake, Tom, hold your tongue!" Dick implored him.
Tom, however, was full with some remembrance of the past; he continued to repeat,-
"Long ago ... forks ... chains!" until Dick led him out of hearing.
A fresh halting-place was chosen a short distance further on, and supper was prepared. But the meal was left almost untasted; not so much that hunger had been overcome by
[Illustration: The man was gone, and his horse with him.]
fatigue, but because the indefinable feeling of uneasiness, that had taken possession of them all, had entirely destroyed all appetite.
Gradually the night became very dark. The sky was covered with heavy storm-clouds, and on the western horizon flashes of summer lightning now and then glimmered through the trees. The air was perfectly still; not a leaf stirred, and the atmosphere seemed so charged with electricity as to be incapable of transmitting sound of any kind.
Dick, himself, with Austin and Bat in attendance, remained on guard, all of them eagerly straining both eye and ear to catch any light or sound that might disturb the silence and obscurity. Old Tom, with his head sunk upon his breast, sat motionless, as in a trance; he was gloomily revolving the awakened memories of the past. Mrs. Weldon was engaged with her sick child. Scarcely one of the party was really asleep, except indeed it might be Cousin Benedict, whose reasoning faculties were not of an order to carry him forwards into any future contingencies.
Midnight was still an hour in advance, when the dull air seemed filled with a deep and prolonged roar, mingled with a peculiar kind of vibration.
Tom started to his feet. A fresh recollection of his early days had struck him.
"A lion! a lion!" he shouted.
In vain Dick tried to repress him; but he repeated,-
"A lion! a lion!"
Dick Sands seized his cutlass, and, unable any longer to control his wrath, he rushed to the spot where he had left Harris lying.
The man was gone, and his horse with him!
All the suspicions that had been so long pent up within Dick's mind now shaped themselves into actual reality. A flood of light had broken in upon him. Now he was convinced, only too certainly, that it was not the coast of America at all upon which the schooner had been cast ashore! it was not Easter Island that had been sighted far away in the west! the compass had completely deceived him; he was satisfied now that the strong currents had carried them quite round Cape Horn, and that they had really entered the Atlantic. No wonder that quinquinas, caoutchouc, and other South American products, had failed to be seen. This was neither the Bolivian pampas nor the plateau of Atacama. They were giraffes, not ostriches, that had vanished down the glade; they were elephants that had trodden down the underwood; they were hippopotamuses that were lurking by the river; it was indeed the dreaded tzetsy that Cousin Benedict had so triumphantly discovered; and, last of all, it was a lion's roar that had disturbed the silence of the forest. That chain, that knife, those forks, were unquestionably the instruments of slave-dealers; and what could those mutilated hands be, except the relics of their ill-fated victims?
Harris and Negoro must be in a conspiracy!
It was with terrible anguish that Dick gnashed his teeth and muttered,-
"Yes, it is too true; we are in Africa! in equatorial Africa! in the land of slavery! in the very haunt of slave-drivers!"