“Stop that youngster!” exclaimed Rhymer; “he is not to set our authority at defiance. Come back I say, Garth.”
No one, however, laid a hand on Ned, who, making his way round on the locker behind his companions’ backs, gained the door. O’Connor, eager to obey the old mate’s commands, made a spring over the table, and in so doing caught the table-cloth with his foot, and toppling over on his face, brought it after him with the plates and other articles to the deck outside the berth, where he lay struggling, amid shouts of laughter from his messmates.
Ned reached the upper deck before O’Connor had regained his legs. The latter was not inclined to follow him, though he vowed he would be revenged on the first opportunity. Ned was soon joined by Charley Meadows.
“You have made enemies of those two fellows, and they’ll pay you off some day,” observed Charley.
“I am sorry for that, though I do not fear their enmity, and I will try and make friends with them as soon as possible,” answered Ned. He watched for an opportunity, and was careful not to say anything in the berth likely to offend his elders. Notwithstanding, they continued to treat him much in the same way, though O’Connor forbore the use of the cob, as he had promised, finding that public opinion was decidedly against him.
Week after week went by, the “Ione” steadily continuing her course to the southward. A heavy gale came on, which, though it lasted but a few days, served to show that Ned was not only a fair-weather sailor, but could do his duty in foul weather as well as in fine. Then there were calms and light winds.
The line was passed. Much to O’Connor’s disappointment, the commander would not allow the usual customs, having given notice that he should not receive “Daddy Neptune” and his Tritons on board.
The ship put into Rio, in South America, which, though apparently out of her course, was not really so. Having remained a few days in that magnificent harbour, and obtained a supply of fresh provisions and water, she again sailed, and soon fell in with the south-easterly trade wind, which carried her rapidly without a tack across the Atlantic. Table Bay was soon reached, and the officers were anticipating a run on shore, when the commander received orders to sail immediately for the east coast, to assist in putting a stop to the trade in slaves, said to be carried on along it for the supply of the Persian and Arabian markets. Many of the mess grumbled at being sent off so soon again to sea, and declared that they would have remained on shore had they known they were to be engaged in such abominable work.
“I have heard all about it,” exclaimed Rhymer. “We shall never have a moment’s quiet, but be chasing those Arab dhows night and day, and if we capture any, have to crowd up our decks with hundreds of dirty blackamoors, whom we shall be obliged to nurse and feed until we can set them on shore, with the chances of fever or small-pox and all sorts of complaints breaking out among them.”
Very different were Ned’s feelings when he heard the news; it was the very station to which he had hoped the ship might be sent. His knowledge of the good qualities possessed by Tom Baraka made him sure that the blacks were not the despicable race some of his messmates were disposed to consider them. They, at all events, had immortal souls, and might with the same advantages become as civilised and as good a Christian as Tom was. There was a possibility, though a very remote one, that he might fall in with Tom’s wife and child, and he pictured to himself the satisfaction of being able to restore them to liberty. He did not, however, express his feelings, except to Charley, as he considered, justly, that it would be like throwing pearls before swine to say anything of the sort to Rhymer or O’Connor, who would only have laughed at him.