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

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The shot wounded the yard, for he could see the splinters fly from it, but it still remained standing; at any moment, however, it might go. The Arabs seemed to think so likewise, for the dhow was now steered directly for the little bay. Before another shot was fired at her, she was close up to the bank, and a black stream of human beings was seen issuing forth from her decks, and winding, like a long black snake, up among the grass and bushes, while the Arabs could be distinguished by their dress urging on the fugitives with their spears.

“We must stop those fellows, and turn them back,” exclaimed Rhymer, and resuming the tiller, he steered the boat for the shore at the nearest spot above the dhow where a landing could be effected.

“Meadows, do you remain by the boat with a couple of hands, the rest of you follow me,” he exclaimed as he leapt on shore.

It was now seen that the blacks, of whom there appeared to be nearly two hundred, were becoming divided, some going off in one direction, some in another, while others, mostly women and children, were sinking down on the ground, unable to keep up with their companions. Rhymer on this made chase with most of his crew after the larger party; but he had not got far when he ordered Ned, with the coxswain, Dick Morgan by name, and two other hands, to pursue another who were going off to the left.

Ned, as directed, started away at full speed, and soon outstripped his followers, who, as they overtook smaller parties of the blacks, tried to turn them back. The negroes on hearing the shouts of the sailors, and seeing them flourish their cutlasses, more frightened than ever, sank down to the ground. In vain the seamen endeavoured to make them rise, assuring them that they meant them no harm. Much time was lost in the attempt. Ned, in obedience to his orders, had got ahead of one party of the blacks and was seen by Dick Morgan making signs to induce them to stop running. When, however, Dick looked again, he could nowhere discover his young officer, while the slaves were scampering off at a rate which made it almost hopeless to overtake them.

“Lads, we must not let Mr Garth be carried off by those niggers, for it seems to me that they have somehow or other got hold of him,” exclaimed Dick, shouting to his companions.

Away they dashed after the fugitives. They had got some distance when they heard Mr Rhymer hailing them to come back. Dick pointed in the direction where he had last seen the midshipman; but Mr Rhymer not understanding his signs, peremptorily ordered him and his companions to retreat to the boat. It was time indeed to do so, for a large party of well-armed Arabs appeared on the hill just before them, and with threatening gestures were advancing evidently with the intention of recovering the slaves they had captured. Rhymer saw at once that were he to remain he should run the risk of having his whole party cut off, and that his only safe course was to retreat as fast as possible to the boat; he accordingly gave the word to face about, and by threatening to fire, he kept the Arabs in check. Their object was evidently not so much to attack the English, as to get possession of the slaver. Had the boat been nearer the dhow, Rhymer might have boarded her and set her on fire, but in endeavouring to do so, he might expose his whole party to destruction. Had there been time even to get hold of any of the blacks, they could not have been taken into the boat, and Rhymer had therefore to make the best of his way down to her without securing a single one of them. The Arabs, who advanced more rapidly as they saw the English retreating, soon got under shelter of some trees, whence they opened a hot fire from matchlocks and gingalls. Rhymer ordered his men to fire in return, but their exposed position on the bank of the river, and their inferior numbers, rendered the combat unequal.

Rhymer, who was as brave as most men, at first hoped to drive the enemy from their shelter, but he soon saw that he might lose many of his men in the attempt, and that his only prudent course was to get on board and shove off as fast as possible. Three of his men had already been hit; should he remain longer the crew might be so weakened as to be unable to pull the boat down the river. Charley, who had run the boat in ready to receive them when he saw them coming, was dismayed at not discovering Ned among the party.

“Where is Mr Garth?” he exclaimed. “Have none of you seen him?”

Rhymer repeated the question.