The schooner sailed into port about three o’clock that afternoon, and as soon as she was made fast to the quay, the three foremast hands were called into the cabin and paid off. Uncle Dick gave the same reasons for discharging them that he had given Frank, and the sailors accepted the situation without a word of complaint. They took a sorrowful leave of the captain and each of the Club, and the boys never saw them again after they went over the side with their bags and hammocks.
When the tide turned the Stranger left the harbor again, Uncle Dick on the quarter-deck and the Club acting as the crew, and in a few hours dropped anchor in her old berth near Mr. Wilbur’s house. The sailors and the herdsmen, who had gathered in a body on the bank to see her come in, greeted her with cheers, and when the cutter went ashore with Uncle Dick and the rest, the blue jackets crowded into it with an eagerness that did not escape the notice of their officers. They expected to find Brown and his two companions on board the schooner, and if they had found them there, it is probable that there would have been trouble directly. When they learned from the Doctor that the three men had been discharged at Hobart Town, a select party of six, among whom were Lucas and Barton, was appointed to go to the city, hunt them up, and give them a vigorous trouncing. But this fine scheme was defeated at the outset, for when the selected six went aft with their caps in their hands to ask their liberty, Mr. Baldwin informed them that not a man would be allowed to leave the vessel. The disappointed blue jackets growled lustily among themselves, but that did not help the matter.
The next day Mr. Wilbur and his family came aboard, the sails were hoisted, and the Stranger sailed away with them. They spent a week in cruising along the coast, stopping at various points of interest, and then returned to their old anchorage. After that more provisions and water were hoisted in, three American sailors, whom Uncle Dick found stranded at Hobart Town, were shipped to supply the places of those who had been discharged, and the schooner began her voyage to Natal.
This proved to be the pleasantest part of their trip around the world, so far as the weather was concerned. The topsails were spread at the start, and were scarcely touched until the shores of Africa were in sight. Of course the voyage was monotonous, for books were scarce, and almost every topic of conversation had been worn threadbare. The plans they had laid for their campaign in Africa had been discussed until they were heartily tired of them, and it was only when Uncle Dick could be prevailed upon to relate some of the adventures that had befallen him during the three years he had spent in the wilds of that almost unknown country, that the boys exhibited any interest at all. The welcome cry “Land, ho!” from the masthead aroused them, and sent them up to the crosstrees with their field-glasses in their hands. They were all impatient to get ashore—all except the two trappers. The latter seemed to have forgotten the most of their old fears by this time, and to be quite as much at home in the forecastle as they were in the mountains and on the prairie. They had come to realize that they were in no danger of falling off among the clouds when they reached the under side of the earth, and were fully convinced that the phantom ship, the Flying Dutchman, the whale that swallowed Jonah, and the monstrous “quids” which had so excited their terror, had no existence except in the brains of the foremast hands; but they knew that there were such things as elephants, lions, and tigers, for they had heard Uncle Dick and Frank say so. They did not care to meet any of these monsters, and they approached the coast with fear and trembling. Perhaps if the Club had known just what was in store for them, they also would have felt a little less enthusiasm.
CHAPTER XII.
BUYING AN OUTFIT.
On the afternoon of the same day that land was discovered from the masthead, the Stranger sailed into the port of Natal. As soon as the anchor was dropped the gig was called away, and Uncle Dick was rowed ashore, where he remained so long that the boys began to grow impatient and uneasy; but finally, to their great relief, they saw him coming back again, and they saw, too, that there was a trunk in the bow of the boat, and that a stranger was seated in the stern-sheets beside Uncle Dick—a tall, gray-headed man, with a weather-beaten face and mutton-chop whiskers. While they were wondering who he could be, the boat came alongside, and Uncle Dick and his companion sprang on board. “Mr. Baldwin,” said the captain, “have this trunk taken into the forecastle, and give this man a bunk there. Then get under way at once.”
“Under way,” repeated Walter. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing at all,” was the reply. “Come down into the cabin, and I will tell you what I have done since I went ashore.”
The boys followed, lost in wonder. The order to get under way, when they had fully expected that the schooner would remain at her present anchorage for six or eight months, surprised them greatly; but the captain explained it in a few words.
“While I was ashore I had the good fortune to meet an English colonel who has just returned from a hunting trip in the interior,” said he. “He has an outfit that he wants to sell, having no further use for it, and which is just the thing we want—a span of oxen, a wagon, a dozen ‘salted’ horses, and a whole armory of double-barrelled rifles. If they suit us we will buy them all in a lump, and that will save us two or three weeks’ time.”