Ned Garth; Or, Made Prisoner in Africa: A Tale of the Slave Trade

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Charley sprang forward, and glancing along the piece, fired, but the shot fell short.

Though Rhymer still cried out, “We shall have her, we shall have her!” gradually his voice lost its tone of confidence, the breeze freshened, and the dhow began rapidly to distance her pursuer. Still the boat followed; the wind might again fail and the chase be overtaken. Instead of failing, however, the wind increased, and the dhow’s hull sunk beneath the horizon. At length only the upper portion of her sail could be seen; still, as long as a speck was in sight, Rhymer pursued her, and not until the sun set did he abandon all hope.

“It is a bad job,” he exclaimed. “Now let’s have those birds, they must be pretty well stewed by this time.”

The wild fowl had been cut up into pieces, and, with rice biscuits and other ingredients, had been stewing in the pot in which all their meals were cooked, officers and men sharing alike. As soon, however, as Rhymer’s plate was handed to him he exclaimed—

“Fishy! Horribly fishy!”

“Strong flavoured I must own,” said Charley; and he and Ned could with difficulty eat a small portion, though the men were not so particular. The unsavoury dish did not add to Rhymer’s good-humour. Scarcely had supper been concluded than it began to blow so hard that it became necessary to take down two reefs, and the boat close-hauled stood towards the shore with the prospect of having a dirty night of it. The sea, too, got up and sent the spray flying over her. About the middle watch rain began to fall heavily. Though provided with an awning, blowing as fresh as it did, it was impossible to rig it, and all hands were soon wet through. As to sleeping, that was out of the question. Rhymer passed the night grumbling and abusing the wild fowl, the Arabs and the dhows, lamenting his own hard fate in being engaged in such abominable service. By morning, when the boat had got in again with the land, the wind fell, and the sun rising, quickly dried their wet clothes. After this heavy showers frequently fell, detracting from the pleasure of the cruise. Ned and Charley made themselves as happy as they could, caring very little for Rhymer’s grumbling. The worst part of the business was that day after day went by and no dhows were seen. Their destination, however, was at length reached. It was an island with a snug little harbour, in which the boat was perfectly concealed. Here they were able to land and erect a tent, hidden from the sea by a grove of casuarina bushes. A couple of hands were kept on board the boat, while the rest lived on shore and enjoyed the advantage of being able to stretch their legs, but they were ordered to keep within hail, in case of being required to shove off in chase of a dhow. On the highest tree a look-out place was made, reached by a rope ladder; and Rhymer ordered Charley and Ned to occupy it by turns. Either the one or the other had to sit, telescope in hand, from sunrise to sunset, sweeping the horizon in search of a sail. Several were seen, but they were too far off to make it of any use to go in chase. At length one appeared, which, by the course she was steering, would inevitably pass close to the island. Officers and crew hurried on board the boat, and away she pulled to cut off the stranger.

“We shall catch yonder craft this time, at all events,” exclaimed Rhymer. “I only hope she will be full of slaves. As she stands on boldly, it is pretty clear that we are not seen.”

The men gave way, in spite of the hot sun striking down on their heads. Still the dhow stood on, and in a short time the boat was up to her. A shot fired across her forefoot made the Arabs lower their sail, and the boat was pulled alongside. The crew jumped on board. About twenty fierce-looking Arabs stood on the deck, but they offered no resistance. Rhymer inquired for the captain. A well-dressed person stepped forward, making a profound salaam.

“Where are your papers?” inquired Rhymer.

The Arab understood him, and presented several documents, which the English officer looked at, in as knowing a way as he could assume, without being able to decipher a word. He then made signs that he wished to examine the hold. No opposition was offered. It was found to contain a miscellaneous cargo, but not a single slave could be discovered. As it was evident that the dhow was a lawful trader, Rhymer apologised to the captain, and stepping into his boat pulled for the shore, while the dhow sailed on her course. Several other dhows were boarded in the same way. Some had blacks on board, but they were supposed either to form part of the crew or to be passengers, and Rhymer did not venture to stop them. The time for their return was approaching.