Читать книгу Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs - E. W. Phillips - Страница 8

It was, as far as I could calculate, some three hours after sunrise, before I returned to consciousness, to find myself weak and in some little pain from the bruises occasioned by the reefs, among which the sea had so unmercilessly tossed me.

My first glance rested on my clothes, only a pair of duck trousers and a red shirt, which to my no little vexation, I found had suffered but slightly better than their master, for they were rent and torn in various places.

With difficulty, rising partly up, for every limb was stiff, I in some curiosity and a great deal of anxiety, looked around.

The sea, in wonderful contrast to the phase under which I had last seen it, now lay forty yards from me beneath the tropical sun; its emerald green surface broken only by minute waves with their crests of flashing crystals, which broke with a deceitful murmur like the purring of a tiger, on the beach.

In its direction I could learn nothing of the locality in which my fate had thrown me, so turning I looked behind.

I was perfectly ignorant of Southern scenery, and as my eyes rested on it I was struck with wonder and admiration. Shelving up, gently here—with boldness there—was a sweep of land covered by forests of noble trees, many of a species with which, at that time, I was perfectly unacquainted. Beyond were gently undulating hills, clothed by a strange and splendid vegetation, intermingled—for the view was of some extent—with the rugged face of rocks, their hardness softened by masses of clinging plant.

Never had I seen a more beautiful landscape, nor one so eloquent of repose—though there was an immense drawback to a man in my position. I could not perceive a single sign of humanity. From the appearance, I might have fancied myself washed upon some terrestrial paradise, yet untrodden by the foot of man. I could not remain contemplating this Southern Eden for long, however, as nature began to assert itself, and I became aware that I was exceedingly hungry, so staggering to my feet I determined to go, cautiously, in search of something to stay it, and also to inspect the country. First, however, feeling very sorry respecting my companions, I kneeled down and fervently thanked God who had preserved me so far, and humbly beseeching Him in His mercy yet to continue with me in my trouble. Trouble truly, for I had been traveller enough in strange lands to know that, especially in this part of the world, these quiet beautiful spots of nature, not unfrequently made homes for all manner of wild animals, and tribes of men but little less savage in their disposition.

Therefore, I regarded the cool shade of the forest trees with distrust, knowing that, from the luxuriant bushes of the flowering mimosa, even at that moment the large eyes of some fierce inhabitant of the forest—the lion, tiger, or leopard, for instance—might be waiting to seize its prey. For which reason, though a tropical sun was pouring its intense rays on my head, I, being so utterly unarmed, merely skirted the forest, seeking among its numerous and varied vegetation for some kind of fruit to stay my craving. One plant I speedily recognised—that was the banana; the fruit of this tree, now so generally known, is usually from four to five inches long, shaped something like a cucumber, and grows in great bunches that weigh twelve pounds and upwards. Here, however, I was perfectly astonished at their immense size, doubling, if not trebling, those in other parts of the world. With the aid of a stick and some climbing I succeeded in procuring enough to satisfy my hunger, and in doing so startled a swarm of birds, which flew so speedily away that I could but see numerous flashes through the boughs of bright plumage, while the screaming and jabbering of monkeys in the depths of the forest assured me of those gentlemen’s presence.

My wants respecting breakfast being appeased, I determined to make for a ridge of rocks that, running into the sea, formed a small promontory, for the shore was a small secluded bay, which easily accounted for the calmness of the water when I had passed the reef. I hoped there to find shelter from the broiling sun, that was beginning most unpleasantly to blister my skin where it showed through the tatters in my clothes, while as to my brain, I believe it would have been scorched up long ago had I not gathered a small banana leaf—I say small, for they grow to two yards in length—and fastened it over my head with a piece of the stem of a beautiful parasitical plant which I found growing over nearly all the forest trees, climbing up to their topmost branches, and from thence sending a mass of slender threads, from branch to branch, in graceful festoons to the ground. The name of this beautiful creeper I learned later to be Cynanchum obtusifolium; the Dutch settlers, however, call it Bavian-tow, or baboon ropes, because by their aid baboons and monkeys climb the trees to gather the fruit. The Kaffirs also use these ropes to lash together the thatch of their huts.

It may be thought, if these creepers are strong enough to support baboons, and serve as cordage, how I could break them asunder. First, then, the commencement of the filaments are scarcely stronger than pack-thread, but grow thicker and thicker, till about the size of a man’s arm. Secondly, by a happy chance, the large clasp-knife—the sailor’s constant companion and friend—which I always carried in my pocket, yet remained there, despite the buffeting I had received.

While talking of plants, I will here mention one that particularly attracted my attention, and whose unpleasant nature I was yet to discover. It grew along the ground or hang in festoons from bush to bush, and, at the time I saw it, was one mass of splendid purple bloom; but what mostly drew my notice, was that all along its branches there were strong sharp thorns, like hooks, arranged in pairs, looking just as if they were traps extended by some bunting lion, to catch his victim and hold it till his majesty chose to dine. Fortunately for me, despite its beautiful blossoms, I was too anxious respecting my position to inspect it more closely, but hurried on eager to get to the rocks, where I resolved, if I could possibly do so, to remain, that I might ever be on the watch, and near at hand should any ship pass within sight of the shore.

On reaching the base, I began cautiously to climb to the summit—no difficult task, as the face was extremely rugged, being composed of masses, forming ledges and huge gapping crevices, covered with lichen mimosas and hard spined cacti. At the first outset, however, I was much startled by a sudden rushing among the bushes, as of some animal close by. Not knowing what it might be, I quickly drew back, but my fright speedily subsided, when I saw a little creature, bearing a close resemblance to the rabbit, dash across my path evidently as much afraid of me as I had been of him. Continuing my way, I mentally resolved that if, by dinner time, I came across another such little gentleman, or even the same, I would try to catch it for that repast.

I had nearly reached the top of the promontory when my terror was again renewed. I fancied I heard the murmur of voices above, coming in my direction. Instantly I crouched down among the bushes with suspended breath.

There were people here then, but the question was, who were they?

From the appearance of the land altogether I felt certain there could be no English settlers so near—therefore it was evident that the inhabitants must belong to the savage tribes; whether acquainted with, and friendly, or otherwise to, the white man, was to me a most unpleasant doubt. I therefore resolved, if possible, to avoid being seen, at any rate till I had inspected them further, as I had no desire to serve for the dinner of a hungry Kaffir family, or even, if not cannibals, to be tortured for their amusement. Hidden from view, I listened anxiously. All was silent, not a sound came, though once I fancied the bushes moved on the rock above, followed by a low whispering. Had they discovered my proximity, and were also watching, preparatory to making a seizure?

I knew that, bold as the Kaffirs are in a body, in a single attack they are cunning and fond of strategy. Therefore had I been perceived, they, not knowing but that others were with me, might be at that very moment stealthily encircling the bushes where I lay, which the next moment would perhaps be pierced as well as my body with a hundred arrows or spears, whichever it was their custom to use.

At this thought I crouched still lower, and cannot divine how long a time I remained there, my danger and the suspense making it, no doubt, appear far longer than it really was; when, everything remaining quiet, I grew nervous at the very silence, and at last determined, though totally unarmed, to reconnoitre the top of the promontory. I had certainly heard voices, but perhaps the speakers had passed on, really unaware of my presence; if not, it was better for me to brave it out than to die like a dog without making any resistance. Besides, if the natives were so close, the place was no safe retreat for me, unless they happened to be friendly.

Stealthily quitting the bushes, and softly climbing the intermediate space, I, reaching my hands to the ledge, pulled myself up to its level and looked over. I had hardly done so than I was so startled that I nearly let go my hold and fell back among the rocks; for the first object that met my view was a human face looking savagely into mine. My exclamation of surprise was echoed by one of no friendly character, accompanied by a round true English sounding oath, addressed to the black race in particular, as a heavy stick was poised in the air, and would have inevitably ended the career of Richard Galbraith, had I not cried out just in time.

“Good heavens! Jack Thompson, is that you and alive?”

The stick dropped from his hands, for it was indeed no other than the third mate of the wrecked ship; and with a second exclamation, seizing my arms, he pulled me on to the ledge.

“Why, Dick Galbraith! Spars and rope-yarns, but you only spoke in time. Lord forgive me! but with that there gigantic cabbage leaf over your head, I took you for some savage cannibal.”

In truth, I must have presented a strange figure, and despite our position, I could not help indulging in a laugh at Jack Thompson’s face of dismay at what he had been about to-do; but speedily checking it, I asked with much concern how he had been saved, and whether there were any others of the crew as fortunate as ourselves.

“Only one more that I know of,” replied Jack, “and that’s the young minister chap as was allus reading.”

“What, the Reverend Mr Ferguson, the missionary that we were to set ashore in Madagascar?”

“Yes, that’s him, and I must say he improves upon acquaintance. I confess I didn’t think much of him on board, with his preachifying; but dash my top-sail if, with all his pale quiet face he ain’t a jolly fellow in the moment of trouble. Ay, he’s as cheerful as a sandboy, and somehow, his little bit of scriptur now seems rather consoling than otherwise.”

“But how, Jack, in Heaven’s name, did you escape from those terrible waves?”

“Why, much about the same way you did, I guess. We lashed ourselves to spars, and after a bit of severe tossing, got pitched up on this here shore.”

“And what made you come to these rocks?”

“Why to seek shelter from that blessed furnace of a sun.”

“And,” I added eagerly, “have you seen any of the natives?”

“No, but we thought we heard one about half an hour ago,” said a voice behind me. Looking round, I saw it belonged to the young missionary, who was standing looking down upon us, for we were seated on the rock. “However,” he continued, “‘the native’ has turned out to be no other than a fellow-comrade in distress.”

The Reverend Mr Ferguson had a slim, gentlemanly figure, and a pale, thoughtful, studious face, but one which was frequently lighted up by the most pleasant, sunshiny, and kindly of smiles.

“Thank God,” he added devoutly, as he raised his eyes upward, “that there is, indeed, another of us saved.”

As Jack Thompson had said, Mr Ferguson’s “preachifying” no longer seemed out of place; and for myself, I am sure in my heart I most devoutly said Amen to the thanksgiving. Then, getting up, I asked if he could at all tell in what part of Caffraria we were—for that we were somewhere on that coast I was certain.

“From the few observations I have been able to make, I fancy this spot must be between Delagoa Bay and Natal,” he replied.

“And the natives, Sir,” put in Jack Thompson.

“Of them I know little by recent report, save that some of the tribes are friendly, while others are very hostile to the white man.”

“Pray Heaven,” I ejaculated, “that we may signal a ship before there is time to make their acquaintance.”

“If it be Heaven’s will, yes,” rejoined the missionary, fervently. “But who knows, He may have cast us on these shores as a fitting soil to plant the seeds of His religion, which alone can give eternal happiness.”

Jack and I made no answer, for as yet we were too worldly and weak of faith to feel as resigned to the ways of Providence as this self-sacrificing young minister, whose constant study was his Master’s will.

“But come,” he added cheerfully, “now we find it is an old comrade that, for the last half hour has been frightening us, let us continue our search for shelter and rest.” Instantly concurring in this proposal, we soon found an overhanging rock, which formed a species of cave, the inside being well sheltered from the view of anyone on the outside by thickly tangled mimosa, and other bushes.

Into this we crept, I first, with a skill surprising to myself, having, by the aid of a stick knocked over one of the little animals such as I had seen, and which Mr Ferguson informed us was called a hyrax, or rock rabbit, they being very plentiful on this coast.

When we all three were inside the cave, we began to prepare our dinner. Jack skinned the hyrax, while I looked about for the means to kindle the dry branches I had collected, to cook it. I had, I am sorry to say, never thought much of book-learning, but now I was to discover its immense value. While still puzzling my brains as to how to procure a spark, to no purpose, Mr Ferguson, who had quitted the cave after borrowing my knife, returned bringing two pieces of wood, one flat, the other of a different kind, sharpened to a keen point.

“Is that touchwood, Sir,” I asked eagerly.

“Well, yes,” he replied with a smile. “I will show you how the natives of Abyssinia, and I believe in this place also, procure fire when they want it. This,” he added, meaning the flat piece, “is a soft wood; this pointed one is of the hard acacia. Now be ready to help when I want you.”

So saying, he sat down, holding the flat piece of wood firmly on the ground with his feet, then, placing the pointed acacia stick vertically upon it, began twirling it rapidly between the palms of his hands.

Jack and I attentively watched the process, and soon saw the hard point make its way slowly into the other, producing a fine dust, which presently began to darken in colour, and finally to smoke; upon this, by Mr Ferguson’s orders we blew softly, and speedily after a flame springing up ignited the wood.

“Well, that’s stunning, at any rate!” cried Jack, as the flame began to kindle the heap of branches.

“Yes; but we must not let the smoke be seen, else it will warn any keen-eyed Kaffir who may be in the neighbourhood of our whereabouts.”

We now all set to work, and in this in voluntary picnic began to forget the dangers which encompassed us. A first-rate dinner we made, and, for my part, it tasted all the better for the short but earnest blessing Mr Ferguson asked for it. Afterwards he insisted upon Jack and I taking some sleep, of which we all stood in great need, saying it was necessary for one to remain awake, and that he would take the first watch, arousing one of us when our turn came.

To use an old expression, we were really dog-tired, and notwithstanding the hardness of our beds, scarcely a minute elapsed before we were sleeping soundly. Once, before falling off, I heard Mr Ferguson tell Jack that if he snored so loud he would arouse all Caffraria. I am ashamed to confess it even now, but so tired were we, that Jack and I never woke for our turn of watch, and the kind-hearted young clergyman never disturbed us, though he must have been quite as weary as we were.

We had been asleep some hours, for the sun had set, and a large, glorious-faced moon was shining down full upon this uncultivated but splendid land, when I was startled broad-awake by a hand being placed on my shoulder. At the same moment Mr Ferguson’s voice whispered in my ear—

“Richard—Richard Galbraith, get up; I believe our retreat is discovered, and the Kaffirs are upon us.”