At length, in the month of August, 1765, Bruce departed from Algiers, furnished by the dey with ample permission to visit every part of his own dominions, and recommendatory letters to the beys of Tunis and Tripoli. He first sailed to Port Mahon, and then, returning to the African shore, landed at Bona. He then coasted along close to the shore, passed the little island of Tabarca, famous for its coral fishery, and observed upon the mainland prodigious forests of beautiful oak. Biserta, Utica, Carthage were successively visited; and of the ruins of the last, he remarks, that a large portion are overflowed by the sea, which may account, in some measure, for the discrepancy between the ancient and modern accounts of the dimensions of the peninsula on which it stood.
At Tunis he delivered his letters, and obtained the bey’s permission to make whatever researches he pleased in any part of his territories. He accordingly proceeded with an escort into the interior, visited many of the ruins described or mentioned by Dr. Shaw, feasted upon lion’s flesh, which he found exceedingly tough and strongly scented with musk, among the Welled Sidi Booganim, and then entered the Algerine province of Kosantina. Here, he observes, he was greatly astonished to find among the mountains a tribe of Kabyles, with blue eyes, fair complexions, and red hair. But he ought not to have been astonished; for Dr. Shaw had met with and described the same people, and supposed, as Bruce does, that they were descendants of the Vandals who anciently possessed this part of Africa.
Having visited and made drawings of numerous ruins, the greater number of which had previously been described more or less accurately by Dr. Shaw, he returned to Tunis, and, after another short excursion in the same direction, proceeded eastward by Feriana, Gaffon, and the Lake of Marks, to the shores of the Lesser Syrtis. Here he passed over to the island of Gerba, the Lotophagitis Insula of the ancients, where, he observes, Dr. Shaw was mistaken or misinformed in imagining that its coasts abounded with the seedra, or lotus-tree. He must have spoken of the doctor’s account from memory; for it is of the coasts of the continent, not of the island, that Dr. Shaw speaks in the passage alluded to.
In travelling along the shore towards Tripoli Bruce overtook the Muggrabine caravan, which was proceeding from the shores of the Atlantic to Mecca,[[8]] and his armed escort, though but fifteen in number, coming up with them in the gray of the morning, put the whole body, consisting of at least three thousand men, in great bodily terror, until the real character of the strangers was known. The English consul at Tripoli received and entertained our traveller with distinguished kindness and hospitality. From hence he despatched an English servant with his books, drawings, and supernumerary instruments to Smyrna, and then crossed the Gulf of Sidra, or Greater Syrtis, to Bengazi, the ancient Berenice.
[8]. Bruce says, “From the Western Ocean to the western banks of the Red Sea, in the kingdom of Sennaar.” His recent biographer omits the “kingdom of Sennaar,” but still places Mecca on the “western banks of the Red Sea.” For “western,” however, we must read “eastern” in both cases.
Here a tremendous famine, which had prevailed for upwards of a year, was rapidly cutting off the inhabitants, many of whom had, it was reported, endeavoured to sustain life by feeding upon the bodies of their departed neighbours, ten or twelve of whom were every night found dead in the streets. Horror-stricken at the bare idea of such “Thyestœan feasts,” he very quickly quitted the town, and proceeded to examine the ruins of the Pentapolis and the petrifactions of Rao Sam, concerning which so many extraordinary falsehoods had been propagated in Europe. From thence he returned to Dolmetta (Ptolemata), where he embarked in a small junk for the island of Lampedosa, near Crete. The vessel was crowded with people flying from the famine. They set sail in the beginning of September, with fine weather and a favourable wind; but a storm coming on, and it being discovered that there were not provisions for one day on board, Bruce hoped to persuade the captain, an ignorant landsman, to put into Bengazi, and would no doubt have succeeded; but as they were making for the cape which protects the entrance into that harbour, the vessel struck upon a sunken rock, upon which it seemed to be fixed. They were at no great distance from the shore, and as the wind had suddenly ceased, though the swell of the sea continued, Bruce, with a portion of his servants and a number of the passengers, lowered the largest boat, and, jumping into it, pushed off for the shore. “The rest, more wise,” he observes, “remained on board.”
They had not rowed twice the length of the boat from the vessel before a wave nearly filled the boat, at which its crew, conscious of their helplessness, uttered a howl of despair. “I saw,” says Bruce, “the fate of all was to be decided by the very next wave that was rolling in; and apprehensive that some woman, child, or helpless man would lay hold of me, and entangle my arms or legs, and weigh me down, I cried to my servants, both in Arabic and English, ‘We are all lost; if you can swim, follow me.’ I then let myself down in the face of the wave. Whether that or the next filled the boat I know not, as I went to leeward, to make my distance as great as possible. I was a good, strong, practised swimmer, in the flower of life, full of health, trained to exercise and fatigue of every kind. All this, however, which might have availed much in deep water, was not sufficient when I came to the surf. I received a violent blow upon my breast from the eddy wave and reflux, which seemed as given by a large branch of a tree, thick cord, or some elastic weapon. It threw me upon my back, made me swallow a considerable quantity of water, and had then almost suffocated me.
“I avoided the next wave, by dipping my head and letting it pass over; but found myself breathless, and exceedingly weary and exhausted. The land, however, was before me, and close at hand. A large wave floated me up. I had the prospect of escape still nearer, and endeavoured to prevent myself from going back into the surf. My heart was strong, but strength was apparently failing, by being involuntarily twisted about, and struck on the face and breast by the violence of the ebbing wave. It now seemed as if nothing remained but to give up the struggle and resign to my destiny. Before I did this I sunk to sound if I could touch the ground, and found that I reached the sand with my feet, though the water was still rather deeper than my mouth. The success of this experiment infused into me the strength of ten men, and I strove manfully, taking advantage of floating only with the influx of the wave, and preserving my strength for the struggle against the ebb, which, by sinking and touching the ground, I now made more easy. At last, finding my hands and knees upon the sands, I fixed my nails into it, and obstinately resisted being carried back at all, crawling a few feet when the sea had retired. I had perfectly lost my recollection and understanding, and, after creeping so far as to be out of the reach of the sea, I suppose I fainted, for from that time I was totally insensible of any thing that passed around me.”
In giving the history of this remarkable escape of Bruce, I have made use of his own words, as no others could bring the event so vividly before the mind of the reader. He seems, in fact, to rival in this passage the energetic simplicity and minute painting of Defoe. The Arabs of the neighbourhood, who, like the inhabitants of Cornwall, regard a shipwreck as a piece of extraordinary good fortune, soon came down to the shore in search of plunder; and observing Bruce lying upon the beach, supposed him to be drowned, and proceeded at once to strip his body. A blow accidentally given him on the back of the neck restored him to his senses; but the wreckers, who from his costume concluded him to be a Turk, nevertheless proceeded, with many blows, kicks, and curses, to rifle him of his few garments, for he had divested himself of all but a waistcoat, sash, and drawers in the ship, and then left him, to perform the same tender offices for others.
He now crawled away as well as his weakness would permit, and sat down, to conceal himself as much as possible among the white sandy hillocks which rose upon the coast. Fear of a severer chastisement prevented him from approaching the tents, for the women of the tribe were there, and he was entirely naked. The terror and confusion of the moment had caused him to forget that he could speak to them in their own language, which would certainly have saved him from being plundered. When he had remained some time among the hillocks several Arabs came up to him, whom he addressed with the salaam alaikum! or “Peace be with you!” which is a species of shibboleth in all Mohammedan countries. The question was now put to him whether he was not a Turk, and, if so, what he had to do there. He replied, in a low, despairing tone, that he was no Turk, but a poor Christian physician, a dervish, who went about the world seeking to do good for God’s sake, and was then flying from famine, and going to Greece to get bread. Other questions followed, and the Arabs being at length satisfied that he was not one of their mortal enemies, a ragged garment was thrown over him, and he was conducted to the sheikh’s tent. Here he was hospitably received, and, together with his servants, who had all escaped, entertained with a plentiful supper. Medical consultations then followed; and he remained with the sheikh two days, during which every exertion was made on the part of the Arabs to recover his astronomical instruments, but in vain. Every thing which had been taken from them was then restored, and they proceeded on camels furnished by the Arabs to Bengazi.