“If another gale should spring up, I really do not think the craft would keep afloat an hour,” exclaimed Adair, with a ruthful countenance, after he had been pumping away for an hour, till he was, as he said, like Niobe, all tears, or a water-nymph.
“Then we must let her sink,” answered Alick, calmly. “We have done our best to keep her above water, though it would be hard to bear if, after all, we should be unable to carry her into Sierra Leone.”
“Never fear, Alick,” exclaimed Paddy, warmly. “As long as any of us have life in our bodies, we’ll pump away, depend on that. If pumping can do it, we’ll keep the old craft afloat.”
Not the least anxious of the many anxious hours they had passed on board the Venus were those they had now to endure. Jack Rogers, however, kept close to them, so that they had no fear about their lives. It was with no slight satisfaction, therefore, that at length they heard the cry from the foretopmast head of the Felicidade, Jack’s prize, of “land ahead,” and soon afterwards the high cape of Sierra Leone hove in sight. They ran up the river above five miles, when they came to an anchor off Freetown, the picturesque capital of the colony. It is backed by a line of lofty heights of different shapes and sizes, which are covered to their summits with trees, and add much to the beauty of the scenery, the Sugarloaf rising in the distance behind them. The river immediately in front of the town forms a bay, which affords good anchorage to vessels of all classes. The town rises with a gentle ascent from the banks of the river, and presents a very good appearance for nearly a mile long, and the streets are broad and intersect each other at right angles. The town is open to the river on the north, but on the east, south, and west it is hemmed in by the wood-crowned hills, which are about a mile or so from it, the intervening space being filled up with undulating ground, forming altogether a scene of great beauty. Here and there in the distance could be seen the palm-thatched roofs of the cottages, which form several villages scattered about on the sides of the hills, and all united by good roads.
“What a pleasant place this would be to live in if it wasn’t for the yellow fever, and the coast fever, and a few other little disagreeables,” observed Adair to Murray, as they stood on the deck of the Venus waiting for Jack Rogers, who was coming to take them on shore. Meantime Needham and the rest of the crew were still hard at work at the pumps, to keep the craft afloat. The schooner’s sails being stowed, Rogers was soon alongside. With no little satisfaction they stepped into his boat. Just as they were shoving off, Queerface, who had hitherto been looking over the side, chattering in the most voluble manner, made a spring and leaped in after them, and took his seat aft as if he thought himself one of them, as Paddy remarked. He looked about him in so comical a way that they all burst into fits of laughter, and when they tried to catch him to put him on board again, he leaped about so nimbly, that they were obliged to give up the chase and allow him to accompany them on shore.
“If Master Queerface was asked, I have not the slightest doubt but that he would say there were four of us in the boat now,” said Paddy, laughing. “Just see what a conceited look the little chap puts on; eh, Master Queerface, you think yourself a very fine fellow now.”
“Kack, kack, kack,” went Queerface, looking about him in the most self-satisfied manner.
“Hillo, who comes here?” cried Jack, as the boat was nearing the shore. He pointed at the Venus, whence two large parrots were seen flying towards them.
“Those are my pets,” exclaimed Murray, laughing. “We should in England be looked upon as the advertising members of some travelling menagerie.”
When they got on shore Queerface walked alongside Paddy with the greatest gravity, except that he every now and then turned round to grin at the little negro boys who followed, making fun at him in a way he did not approve of. One of them, more daring than the rest, tried to tweak him by the tail, when he made chase in so heroic a manner that he put them all to flight. Meantime Polly and Nelly, the parrots, kept flying above their heads, and occasionally alighting to rest on Murray’s shoulder. Sometimes for a change one of them would pitch on the head or back of Master Queerface, with whom they were on the most friendly terms. The dangers they had gone through together seemed to have united them closely in the bonds of unity. Thus the party proceeded till they reached the governor’s house. They in vain tried to keep out Queerface and the parrots, but the governor, hearing the disturbance, desired that all hands should be admitted. He was highly amused at the pertinacity with which the parrots and monkey stuck to their masters, and still more interested with the account Murray and Adair gave of their voyage. Indeed, they gained, as they deserved, great credit for the way in which they had stuck to their vessel. All three midshipmen were treated with the greatest kindness by the residents at Freetown, so that they had a very pleasant time of it, and were in no hurry for the arrival of a vessel to carry them back to their ships. They made friends in all directions, both among the higher as well as among the less exalted grades of society; indeed, they were general favourites. Even Queerface and Polly and Nelly came in for some share of the favour they enjoyed, for although neither monkeys nor parrots can be said to be scarce in Africa, their talents were so great and of so versatile a character, that their society was welcomed almost, Adair declared, as much as that of their masters. Queerface more than once, however, got into disgrace. The three midshipmen were spending the day at the house of a kind old gentleman a short distance from the town. It was as cool and airy a place and as pleasant an abode as could be found under the burning sun of Africa, surrounded with broad verandahs, French windows, and Venetian blinds. The hour of dinner arrived, and all the family assembled in the dining-room, but Mr Wilkie, the host, did not make his appearance. They began to get anxious about him, and some of the ladies hurried off to call him, when at length he came up the room laughing heartily with a white night-cap on his head. “I must apologise, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “but the truth is, I wear a wig, a fact you are probably aware of; but while I was taking my siesta somebody came and took my wig away. Sambo and Julius Caesar and Ariadne have been hunting high and low and on every side without success, and what is extraordinary my dressing-gown disappeared at the same time. However, I hope that you will excuse me, for I thought it better to appear as I am than not at all; for, I confess it, I have but two wigs, and my other one has been left at the barber’s to be refrizzled.”