OUR SCHOONER CAUGHT IN A TORNADO.
CHAPTER XXI.
BOUND FOR THE INTERIOR—A SEA VOYAGE—A TORNADO—WE REACH THE FERNAND-VAZ—SANGALA WISHES TO DETAIN ME—A NIGHT ALARM—PROSPECT OF A WAR—ARRAYED FOR BATTLE—A COMPROMISE—MY COMMI FRIENDS.
I have been a great wanderer. On the 5th of February, 1857, I was on board of a little schooner, of forty-five tons burden, bound for the mouth of a river called Fernand-Vaz. From there I expected to penetrate into the interior. I was on my way to a wild and unexplored region.
The name of the schooner was the Caroline. She was full of provisions and goods for the long journey I had to undertake; for I intended to make a very long exploration before my return to America. The captain was a Portuguese negro, Cornillo by name. The crew, seven in number, were Mpongwes, Mbingos, and Croomen, not more than two of whom could understand each other, and not a soul could properly understand the captain. A fine prospect for the voyage!
I got aboard at daylight, and should have been glad to go immediately ashore again; but, by dint of steady shouting, and a great deal of standing idle, with a little work now and then, we got the anchor up just at dusk. The captain did not like to leave port on Friday. I told him I would take the responsibility. He asked what good that would do him if he went to the bottom. It appears that the Portuguese have the same absurd superstitions as many of the sailors of other nations.
No sooner had we got into the swell than our two black women, and every man on board (except the captain), got sea-sick. The cook was unable to get the breakfast next morning; and the men were lying about, looking like dying fish.