The Cruise of the Frolic

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Bravo, Porpoise, bravo!” cried Hearty. “I wish that you were Prime Minister, or First Lord of the Admiralty, or Dictator, or something of that sort for a short time. I doubt not but that you would get things in prime order in a very short time.”

While this conversation was going on, we were rapidly drawing in with the coast. Miss Mizen made two or three very masterly sketches, though the blue sea and water filled up the larger portion of the paper. The less there is in a subject the more does it exhibit a master’s talent if the picture is interesting.

A fresh breeze had been blowing all day, but towards evening the wind fell, and the cutter lay floating idly on the water. We were assembled after dinner as usual on deck, laughing, talking, yarn-spinning, and occasionally reading aloud, enjoying the moments to the full, and little dreaming of what a few short hours were to bring forth.

Evening was about to throw its dusky veil over the African shore. The idle flap of the mainsail showed us that there was a stark calm. A fish would occasionally leap out of the water, or the fin of some monster of the deep might be seen as it swam by in pursuit of prey, or a sea-bird would come swooping past to ascertain what strange craft had ventured into its haunts, ere it winged its way back to its roosting-place for the night, amid the crags of the neighbouring headland.

I was taking a turn on deck, when, as I looked over the side and measured our distance from the land, it appeared to me that, although the calm was so complete, we had considerably decreased our distance from it. Walking forward, I asked Snow if he had remarked any thing particular.

“Why, yes, sir; I was just going to speak to you or Mr Porpoise, about the matter,” he answered. “I’ve been watching the land for an hour or more past, and it strikes me that there is a strong current, which sets in-shore to the westward hereabouts; it’s just the sort of thing, which, if we hadn’t found out in time, might have carried us much too close in on a dark night to be pleasant; as it is, if a breeze doesn’t spring up, and we continue to drift in, we must just get the boats out and tow her head off shore, so there’ll be no great harm come of that.”

“You are right,” said I; “there’s little doubt about it; I’ll mention the matter to Mr Porpoise, and he’ll approve of what you propose. But I do not think there’s any use in letting the ladies know, or they’ll be fancying all sorts of dreadful things—that they are going to be cast on shore, or eaten up by lions, or murdered by savages. I should not like to give them any uneasiness which can be helped.”

I watched the old man’s countenance while I was speaking, to ascertain what he really thought about the matter. The truth was that I was not quite satisfied myself with our position. I had been along that coast some years before, looking into several of the ports; and I remembered that the Moors inhabiting the villages just above there, bore anything but a good character. I began to blame myself, when too late, for not having thought of this before. When the brig-of-war was with us, it mattered little; for no pirates would have ventured to come out to attack her: they would have known that she would have proved a dear bargain, even if they could ultimately have taken her, and very little value to them if taken, but with a yacht the case was different. We could not fail to appear a tempting prize, and easily won. Had we, however, been without ladies on board, we should, I expect, all have enjoyed the fun of showing the rascals that they had caught a Tartar, and am fully certain that we should have been able to render a good account of them.

I remember that these ideas crossed my mind as I walked the deck, waiting for an opportunity of speaking to Porpoise, who was still engaged in conversation with Mrs Mizen; then I burst into a fit of laughter at the thought of the ideal enemy I had so busily conjured up to fight with. Porpoise, who just then joined me, inquired the cause of my merriment.

“It suddenly occurred to me that we were off a somewhat ill-famed part of the coast, and I could not help fancying I saw half-a-dozen or more piratical row-boats come stealing out from under the cliffs there, with the intention of cutting our throats and rifling the vessel,” I answered; “but of course it is a mere fancy. I never heard of an English yacht being attacked by pirates hereabouts, and it would be folly to make ourselves anxious about such a bugbear.”