In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

When we got near the schooner the boat cast-off, Senhor Silva saying that he would go on board, and send her back for us.

“I wish I had gone with them,” observed Stanley on hearing this. “I do not like their appearing on board a strange vessel without David or me to protect them.”

“Oh, but Leo will do that,” said David. “He is quite escort enough for them till we can get alongside.”

As we approached still nearer the schooner we hauled down our sail. In a short time the boat returned and towed us alongside. The crew of the stranger were looking out eagerly at us over the bulwarks, and ropes were now thrown to assist us in getting on deck. An officer stood at the gangway and politely welcomed Stanley, Senhor Silva who stood by interpreting for him. Kate was seated on a chair, with Bella by her side.

“Oh, they are very kind and polite,” she said to her brother as soon as he went up to her. “This is indeed a fine man-of-war.”

She was certainly a remarkably fine vessel, and I saw that she mounted six broadside guns and a long gun forward; but as I had not been on board many English men-of-war, and never any foreigners, I was not well able to judge of her. She had a numerous crew, of every colour and shade, from the fair European down to the dark tint of the darkest African. Our stores and the various articles we brought on the raft were now hoisted on board, and the structure which had cost us so much pains to build was cast adrift. The officers, I observed, all wore jackets and straw caps, which I fancied was not usual for officers of men-of-war; but probably on account of the heat of the climate the usual custom was departed from. Senhor Silva and the captain of the schooner were walking up and down the deck conversing eagerly. At length Senhor Silva stopped as he was passing me, and said, “I have found an old friend in the captain of the Andorinha (the Sea Swallow), and we are happy to meet each other again. He begs that you and our other friends will consider yourselves as welcome and honoured guests on board. I have told him that we have lost sight of the other raft, and he promises to keep a look-out for her. He has already given directions to have cabins prepared for you, and begs that you will make yourself as thoroughly at home as possible.”

This was indeed satisfactory news. Timbo, Jack, and Ramaon were sent forward, where they were well received by the crew; for although Jack could not make himself understood, nor understand what was said, Ramaon was always ready to interpret for him. The wind, which had been for some time increasing, now blew half a gale, and we had great reason to be thankful that we had got on board so fine a craft. The captain insisted on giving up his cabin to Kate and Bella, and Stanley and David had another prepared close to them, while a third was devoted to the accommodation of Senhor Silva and I, the two boys being placed in another rather more forward. Not only were we comfortably accommodated, but a handsome dinner was, soon after we got on board, placed on the table. The captain announced himself as Senhor Marques da Costa. He was very polite, and a good-looking man, though somewhat dark even for a Portuguese. This, I concluded, arose from having been a long time on the coast. He understood but little English, so we had to carry on our conversation chiefly through our friend Senhor Silva. He, however, never seemed tired of interpreting for us. When the captain heard that we wished to proceed to the Cape, he expressed his regret that his duties required him to remain on the coast. He could not, he said, indeed promise to land us, for some little time, at Loando, but he begged to assure us that we were heartily welcome on board. Several of the officers sang very well, and after dinner guitars were produced, and they sang numbers of their national songs: somewhat die-away sort of melodies I thought them, but Kate said they were very pretty, and expressed a wish to learn the guitar. Directly one of the officers undertook to instruct her, and presented her with a handsome instrument, which he said he hoped she would keep in remembrance of her visit to the Andorinha. The time thus passed very pleasantly on board. Still having some doubts from what Timbo had said about the vessel, I asked Jack, whom I met the next morning, what he thought of her.

“Well, sir,” he answered, “the people seem a free-and-easy set, rather fond of gambling—but that’s the way with these foreigners; and most of them wear long ugly knives stuck in their belts, which is not the fashion with English seamen; but these Portuguese are odd fellows, and that is how I accounts for it.”

With Timbo I had no opportunity for some time of speaking. Next morning I saw that the Portuguese flag was flying from the schooner’s peak, while a pennant waved from her mast-head. Certainly the officers did their best to amuse their fair guests and us. Next day, after dinner, some of the men were called aft to dance their national dances, but I can’t say much for them. I saw that one or two of the men were always aloft on the look-out, and while the crew were engaged as I have before described, one of the look-outs gave a shout from aloft, and presently two of the officers went up the rigging with glasses at their backs. I saw them looking eagerly to the southward. Presently they returned on deck and reported their observations to the captain. The breeze, which had before been fresh, had by degrees been falling, and now failing us altogether, the schooner lay becalmed with her sails flapping against the masts. From this I concluded that a sail had been sighted—a slaver possibly. The officers continued talking together, while one of them, who had gone aloft, remained there, his eye constantly fixed in the direction in which I supposed he had seen the stranger. I was about to go aloft with my spy-glass, when Senhor Silva came on deck.

“The captain says that passengers going up the rigging will interfere with the duty of the ship,” he observed; “you must remain on deck.”