Hour after hour they raced along—sometimes for a mile or two in comparatively easy water, but more often struggling to retain their hold as the vessel rolled and pitched in the rapids.
The afternoon waned at last, and with evening came a welcome abatement of the sun’s pitiless rays, but still the anxious journey continued, with current and rapid in long succession. The strength of the two weary artists and the natives had by this time all but given out, and, thoroughly exhausted and battered as they were, it was evident that if they did not reach the shore before the rapidly-approaching darkness fell it would certainly be all up with them. Then, providentially, a curve in the river took the current close into the bank, carrying the boat to within some thirty yards of the shore. The castaways realized at once that this was a golden opportunity, but in their weak state it was exceedingly doubtful if they would be able to swim to the bank. As luck would have it, however, a number of natives appeared on the spot. They had been watching the capsized craft with evident curiosity, and now, in response to urgent signals for help, they put off to the assistance of Mr. Sheldon and his companions. They easily reached the boat, bringing with them the curious, wedge-shaped floats, constructed of reed-like sticks of ambatch wood, which they use in crossing the Nile. With the timely aid of this primitive form of river craft, Mr. Sheldon, Mr. Seppings Wright, and the natives reached the bank in safety. Their voyage down the dangerous Hannock cataract on the side of a derelict boat, lasting as it did from nine o’clock in the morning until sunset, in the course of which they were carried through some sixty miles of rock-strewn rapids, is, it is safe to say, unique as a record of endurance and long-drawn-out peril, fraught with possibilities of the most alarming description.
On reaching the shore they sank down dead-beat on the bank. Their condition was most wretched, such little clothing as they retained consisting of soaked and tattered rags. They had no means of making a fire, which they badly needed, as, with the setting of the sun, the terrific heat of the day was succeeded by the chill night air of the desert. To make matters worse, the natives either could not or would not give them anything to eat, and the only food they had of their own was a tin of preserved ginger, found in a valise which one of the natives rescued from the current.
The night, as may well be imagined, was passed in misery and discomfort, but with the morning the welcome discovery was made that directly opposite, a mile away on the farther bank, was one of the hospital camps established by the Egyptian field force. Mr. Sheldon thereupon bribed a native at the cost of a razor, also found in the valise, to swim the river and obtain help for the party.
Now, at length, their troubles were ended. The commandant of the camp signalled to a steamer, which carried them over to the other side, where the officer provided them with dry clothes and what they most appreciated, comfortable beds to sleep in.
There are but few artists, even marine artists, who have actually followed the sea as a profession. A well-known name among the few who have done so is that of Mr. E. S. Hodgson, whose strong, vigorous illustrations of seafaring adventures are a familiar feature in The Wide World. A casual glance at his drawings is sufficient to show that he has an intimate acquaintance with the life and customs of a sailor, and they are executed with a realistic touch that could not be attained except by personal experience.
Mr. Hodgson, while on a voyage, once met with a serious accident which nearly cost him his life; and it was entirely owing to the effects of this mishap that he gave up the sea and decided to become an artist. Mr. Hodgson has provided us with the following account of what happened to him for inclusion in our series of “Adventures of Wide World Artists.” His ship, the barque Her Majesty, six hundred tons register, sailed from the London Docks bound for the West Indies with a cargo of bricks and rice for the prisons in Martinique.
For some weeks nothing out of the ordinary routine of life aboard ship occurred, Her Majesty bowling along with a favourable wind and making good headway.
The north-east trades had only just been reached, however, when bad weather was encountered, storms and squalls succeeding each other day after day.