On the Banks of the Amazon

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The crew had gone aloft to furl the sails, and the ship was soon under her three closely-reefed topsails. Still the wind increased, and the seas rose up on either side as if they would overwhelm her. The night was coming on. The captain held a consultation with his mates. The first mate and one of the best hands went to the helm. The main and mizzen-topsails were furled, the helm was put up, and the ship was kept away before the wind. The huge seas followed close astern, roaring and hissing after us. Arthur and I had remained on deck.

“I must beg you to go below,” said the captain; “for if one of these seas was to break on board, you might be swept off, and no one could save you.” Still, I was very unwilling to obey. John, however, coming on deck, saw the danger we were in, and pulled us down the hatchway. We found Ellen in the cabin kneeling at the table with Maria at her side. She had the Bible open, though it was a difficult matter to read by the flickering light of the lamp, which swung backwards and forwards. Still, every now and then, by keeping her finger on a verse, she was able to catch a few words; while Maria, with her large eyes wide open fixed on her young mistress, was listening eagerly to what she said. So engaged were they, that neither of them observed our entrance. Now Ellen stopped, and I heard her lifting up her voice in prayer for the safety of the ship and all on board. John and I, making our way to the other side of the table, knelt down likewise. Though she saw us she did not stop. We remained thus for some time, when a shout from the deck reached us. I could not help rushing up again. John followed me. During the few minutes we had been below the darkness had increased, but at that instant a vivid flash of lightning bursting from the sky, showed a large ship ahead of us. We were running on towards her. Again all was darkness, and I expected to hear the fearful crash of the two ships meeting. Again another flash, followed by a fearful peal of thunder, lighted up the atmosphere. The ship was no longer there, but an object floating on the foaming waves. It was a boat full of people. It seemed impossible that she could live many moments in so fearful a sea. Presently I saw our crew running with ropes to the side. Already the stern of the boat was sinking beneath the waves. There was a thundering sound, as if a big gun had been fired. Our foresail had burst from the bolt-ropes. We rushed on close to the boat. John,

Arthur, and I sprang to the side. Several persons were clinging to the ropes which had been thrown over to them. We assisted in hauling them up. A sea struck us at that moment, and two were washed away. Three others clung on, and were partly hauled and partly washed on board; while a dog which was swimming near them was lifted up by a wave and let directly down on the deck. We and they had to cling to the bulwarks to save ourselves from being carried off to leeward. One of our men, who had let go his hold while assisting the strangers, was carried off by the rush of water across the deck, and before any one could help him, he was seen struggling amid the foaming billows astern. On flew the Inca over the spot where the ship had just before been seen. We managed to drag the strangers to the companion hatch, and, with the assistance of Sam, carried them below, followed by the dog which had been so curiously saved with them. True, when he entered the cabin, instead of barking, ran up to him wagging his tail and showing every sign of pleasure. I observed how like the two animals were to each other. The mystery was soon solved. The officers and crew remained on deck to bend another sail. As the light of the lamp fell on the features of the first person we got into the cabin, what was my astonishment to recognise my old friend Tony Nyass. His surprise at seeing me was equally great.

“Is Houlston saved?” were the first words he uttered. “He was close to me!”

“Yes, all right!” exclaimed a young man, who, helped by Sam, tottered into the cabin. It was Houlston himself, though I should not have known him, so pale and scared did he look. The third was one of the mates of the Portuguese ship.

“And Faithful, too,” cried Tony, kneeling down and embracing his dog. “My old fellow, I am indeed very glad you have escaped.” Faithful seemed as well pleased as his master; and True knew him at once, and welcomed him by leaping up to lick his face, though as he did so the ship gave a tremendous roll, and over he tumbled to the other side of the cabin.

I need not say how thankful we were that the lives of our old school-fellows had been preserved. They were shivering with cold, so, taking them into our cabin, we got off their wet clothes and put them to bed. Tony then told me that after the commencement of the gale, the ship had sprung a leak, and that though the crew had behaved very well, and stood manfully to the pumps, the water could not be got under. When it was found that the ship must go down, the boats were prepared. He and Houlston, with the second mate and several of the crew, had got into one of them, and shoved clear of the ship just as she sank; but the other, he was afraid, had been immediately overwhelmed; indeed, it seemed scarcely possible that any boat could have lived many minutes in the heavy sea then running. It was wonderful that the boat he was in had remained long enough afloat to allow our ship to get near her.

During the whole of that night the hurricane blew as hard as ever, we continuing to run before it. Every moment I expected to hear that the ship had sprung a leak, and that we should have to share the fate of the unfortunate Vasco da Gama. We were dreadfully knocked about. Our bulwarks were stove in, and two of our boats carried away. We lost our topmasts, and received other damage; but the stout old ship still battled bravely with the seas. As the morning broke the wind began to abate. By noon the sun was shining brightly, and the sea had gone much down.

“Perhaps, after all,” observed Tony, “we shall go round the Cape with you to Quito, and then have to find our way down the Amazon to Para, as I suppose that will then be the shortest road there.”