Dark clouds had been gathering around, and the wavelets began to play over the hitherto calm ocean. Although as yet there was not much wind, the sails were trimmed, and, by the captain’s orders, the vessel was put on a north-west course. I concluded, consequently, that he at all events intended touching at Sierra Leone, to obtain a mate and some white hands. The wind, however, rapidly increased, sail was taken in, and before long it was blowing a perfect hurricane. This made the poor captain more anxious than ever to get on deck, but when he attempted to move he found that he had not strength even to sit up. The wind howled and whistled, the vessel tumbled fearfully about, and the seas, which rose up in foaming masses, frequently broke on board, deluging her deck.
I had gone down to the captain, who had directed me to visit him every quarter of an hour to let him know how things were going on, when, as I entered the cabin, I discovered a strong smell of burning, and directly afterwards I saw thin wreaths of black smoke making their way through the forward bulk-head. The dreadful conviction came upon me that the vessel was on fire. I sprang on deck, and calling the boatswain and Paul, I told them my fears. That they were too well founded we had soon fearful evidence, for the smoke, now in thick volumes, rose above the deck, both fore and aft. Still there might be time to extinguish the fire. To do this it was necessary to take off the main-hatchway, and, in spite of the risk of a sea beating over us, it was done. The instant it was off dense masses of black smoke rose up from below, preventing all attempts which the boatswain and some of his men made to discover the seat of the fire.
“We must take to the boats,” he exclaimed, “the ship soon all in flames, then the boats burn and we no get away.”
Paul and I as well as Sambo tried to persuade him and his Krumen to make more efforts to put out the fire before they lowered the boats. With the sea then running, indeed there was every probability that they would be swamped. We set them the example, by rigging the pumps, and filling buckets from alongside to heave down the hold. Thus encouraged, they laboured for a short time, but finding their efforts of no effect, they abandoned the work and began to lower the boats.
The wind had happily by this time somewhat moderated; while most of the people were engaged in launching the long boat, Paul and I with two other men set to work to lower one of the smaller boats. We had not forgotten the poor captain, and as the smoke had not yet made its way into his cabin, I did not intend to let him know what had occurred till the last, when I hoped, with the assistance of Paul and others, to get him lowered safely into one of the boats.
All hands were working away with frantic haste, for we could not tell at what moment the flames might burst forth, and render the deck untenable. At length the long boat was launched, and the boatswain and the Krumen leaped into her. They called to Sambo and the rest to follow. I thought Sambo would have remained faithful to the captain, and have come to assist him, but at that moment a forked flame burst up from the hold, so alarming him, that he followed the rest. Paul and I entreated the other men to remain by the smaller boat, while we went into the cabin to bring up my poor friend the captain. As I was descending the companion hatch, I heard the boatswain shouting to the other men, and caught sight of them running to the side. Still I hoped that should they desert us, Paul and I might be able, after placing the captain in the boat, to lower her in safety.
“The ship on fire,” exclaimed Captain Willis, when I told him what had occurred, “Heave water down the hold. Do all you can to save our rich freight, that must not be lost on any account.”
I told him that we had done what we could, and that the rest of the crew had already deserted the vessel.
The captain sank back on his pillow, “I Have no strength to move,” he murmured, “and you and Paul cannot lift me.”
“We will try, Massa Captain,” said Paul.