Читать книгу The Cruise of the Midge (Historical Novel) - Michael Scott - Страница 16

The first man we encountered was Clinker, the master-at-arms.

"Who has seen the frigate?" said Lanyard.

"Why, there she is, sir," replied the man. "There, you see her topgallant sails over the green bushes there, sir. Now you see the heads of her fore and maintopsails."

"I see, I see. What signal is that flying at the fore, Mr. Marline?" to the midshipman who was looking out.

"The signal to close, sir."

"Close," croaked old Sprawl—"close—easier said than done, Sir Oliver."

"Like the Starling, 'we can't get out,'" quoth I.

Here the frigate in the offing slowly and majestically shoved her long jib-boom past the mangroves on the westernmost bank, and gradually the whole beautiful machine hove in sight, rising and falling on the long swell.

As she came round the point, she took in topgallant sails, and hauled down the foretopmast staysail; and whenever she had fairly opened the river, and come nearly abreast of us, she laid her maintopsail to the mast, with her fore and mainsails hanging in graceful festoons in the brails, and hove-to under her three topsails, jib, and spanker. She slid silently and majestically along; the bright green wave curling outwards from her beautifully moulded bows, like the shell-shaped canopy of Daddy Neptune's car, as the cut-water slid gently through the calm heaving of the blue swell, and gradually subsiding, as the glorious old hooker lost her way, and became stationary, when she floated, like a swan asleep on the dark waters, the bright sun shining cheerily on her white sails and hammocks and clear white streak, and sparkling on her glittering sides, as they rose and fell fresh and wet from the embraces of old Ocean; and as the land-breeze laid her over, her gold-bright copper blazed like one vast polished mirror, wherein the burning sun was reflected in dazzling glances. Bright blinding rays flashed out, starlike, from the window in the quarter gallery, and the glass in the scuttles of the officer's cabins, and from every burnished piece of metal throughout the whole length of the gallant craft, converting her black hull into a brilliant constellation; while her heavy lower masts, with their strong shrouds and stays, and the swelling sails, and the tall and taper spars aloft, were seen clear and distinct against the deep blue of the seaward horizon.

As we looked, the frigate hauled down the jib, and brailed up the spanker. A string of small round bundles, apparently each about the size of a man's head, now twisted and struggled, and stopped, and finally slid up to the main royal-mast-head. The instant the uppermost reached the truck, as if it had touched a spring—bang—a gun was fired, and at the same moment the round balls blew out steadily in so many flags.

"What signal now, Mr. Marline?"

"The signal to weigh and stand out, sir."

"Why, we can't; it is impossible: although the wind is fair, the swell on the bar puts it out of our power."

"Very true," said old Pumpbolt; "and you had better say so, Lanyard. I, for one, won't undertake to carry you over until there is less broken water at the river's mouth, I know."

The lieutenant commanding the felucca telegraphed to this effect; the frigate acknowledged it, and answered, that she would remain in the offing all night in expectation of our getting over at high water, when possibly there would be less sea on the bar.

Having made this signal, she run her jib up, set topgallant-sails, and let fall the foresail: the ponderous mainyard slowly swung round, and as the noble frigate fetched way again, she gradually fell off before the wind; her long low hull fore-shortened into a mere tub of a vessel to look at, and finally presenting her stern to us, she lay over, inclining herself gracefully to the breeze, as if she was bidding us farewell, and glided cheerily away; indicating by the increasing whiteness of her wake, the accelerated speed with which she clove the heaving billows.

"There goes the dear old beauty," said Davie; "there's a retiring curtsy for you that beats the stateliest of my lady patronesses at Almacks."

Having gained an offing of about three miles, she again shortened sail, and hove to in her station to await our joining, when the bar became passable in the night.

"Weary work, master Benjie—weary work," said Davie Doublepipe; "so here we must lie, roasting another whole day, while there is plenty of water on the bar, if that confounded swell would only fall."

By this it was drawing near the men's dinner-time; and while the lieutenant and I were pacing the deck, rather disconsolately, trying to steer clear of the smoke of the galley, that streamed aft as we rode head to wind, we noticed that our sable visitor, Serjeant Quacco, had, with the true spirit of resignation, declined into cook's mate (indeed, if there be a Negro on board when this birth becomes vacant, he invariably slides into it, as naturally as a snail into his shell), and was busy in assisting the maimed seaman who was watching the coppers. The fire seemed to burn very indifferently from the greenness of the wood, which gave out more smoke than flame.

"Drainings, my man," said Lanyard to cookey, "don't choke us, if you please. Do get some dry chips from Shavings, will you?"

"Ay, ay, sir," said the man.

"Here, Quacco, mind the fire," continued Drainings, "till I get some splinters from forward there.—Stay—Lennox, my dear boy, do get me a handful of dry chips from old Shavings, will ye?"

The Scotch corporal civilly complied; and after a little, we saw him split up a block of wood where the carpenter had been at work in the bows of the felucca, and presently he returned with a bundle of them, which Serjeant Quacco busily employed himself in poking into the fire, blowing lustily with his blubber lips all the while. When Lennox turned away, I could not help noticing, that he stuck his tongue in his cheek, and winked to one of the crew as he went below.

Presently Lanyard desired the boatswain to pipe to dinner. In place of bundling down below, according to the etiquette of the service in larger vessels, he winked, I saw, at the poor fellows breaking away forward into messes, which they contrived to screen from the view of the quarterdeck, by slewing the long yard nearly athwart ships, and loosing the sail as if to dry.

Notwithstanding all this, we could easily see what was going on forward. Close to, sat the old cook himself, with Shavings the carpenter, and Wadding the gunner, warrant officers in a small way, with a little snipe of a boy waiting on them.

About a fathom from them, there was another group squatted on the deck, consisting of Corporal Lennox, old Clinker the master at arms, Dogvane the quartermaster, and no smaller a personage than Serjeant Quacco.

The food was peas-soup, and salt junk and biscuit. The hands, as we turned and returned, seemed exceedingly comfortable and happy; when all at once, the old cook pressed his hands on the pit of his stomach, and began to make a variety of rather odd grimaces. Dogvane looked in his face, and instantly seemed to catch the infection; so he next began to screw himself up into a variety of indescribable contortions. Serjeant Quacco looked first at one, and then at another, as they groaned in any thing but a melodious concert, until he too, through sympathy, or in reality from pain, began also to twist himself about, and to make such hideous faces, that to have trusted him near a respectable pig in the family way, would have been as much as the nine farrow were worth.

At length the contagion became general apparently, and Corporal Lennox began to groan and wince, as he ejaculated, "Oh dear, what can this be! what an awful pain in my stomach! Why, Mr. Drainings, what have you clapt into that peas-soup? Something bye common you must have put into it, for we are all dying here with"——

"My eye!" said old Drainings, speaking slowly and deliberately, as if the paroxysm had subsided, and some strange light had suddenly flashed on him, "you are quite right, Lennox. That same peas-soup is none of the right sort—that is clear now. I have just been telling Mr. Wadding that a wery-most-remarkable circumstance took place in the boiling on't."

Here the old fellow, who had just finished his peas-soup, very solemnly looked upwards, and wiped his muzzle with what hovered between a pocket-handkerchief and a dishclout, of any colour but that of unsunned snow.

"Why," continued the cook, "just when it began to simmer about the edges of the boiler——Ah—ah—oh—there it is again—there it is again," and once more he began to tumble about on the deck, giving friend Quacco several miscellaneous kicks and punches during his make-believe involuntary convulsions. This fit seemed also to pass over.

"Why," said he, "just when the soup began to simmer about the edges of the copper, and thin streaks of white froth began to shoot inwards towards the middle, where the hot soup was whirling round in a bubbling eddy, and poppling up for all the world like the sea on the bar there, I saw—I saw"——Here he looked unutterable things with his one eye, turning it up like a duck in thunder.

"What did you see?" said old Clinker, staring in his face with sham earnestness.

"I saw—so sure as I see Mr. Weevil the purser's d—d ugly mug aft on the quarterdeck there—a small devil rise out of the boiling peas-soup in the very middle of the copper, and fly up and away over the truck like a shot—whipping the vane at the mast-head off its spindle with the bight of his tail.

"No! did you though?" said several voices.

"To be sure I did," rejoined Drainings, "as distinctly as I now see my thumb—none of the cleanest, by the way."

"The devil?" said Lennox, starting up; "what was it like, Mr. Drainings?"

"Why, as like the little heathen god brought on board by Quacco there, as you can fancy any thing."

"Oh—oh—oh," again resounded from all hands.

"But it could not be he," at length struck in the black serjeant. "It could not be he, seeing he is safe stow below de heel of de bowsprit dere."

"Heaven grant it may be so," whined Dogvane.

"If it really be as Quacco says," said Wadding, in a sympathizing tone, "why, then, I will believe it is all fancy—all a barn."

Here the black serjeant, in great tribulation, rose to go forward, evidently with a desire to reconnoitre whether the graven image was really there in the body or no. After a long search, he came back and sat down, blank and stupified, on the spot where he had risen from.

"And pray, Mr. Drainings, when did you see this curious appearance?" persisted Lennox.

"At the wery instant of time," drawled Cookey, with his arms crossed, and his hands stuck into the open bosom of his greasy shirt, that had once been red flannel, and with a short black stump of a pipe in his mouth, from which he puffed out a cloud between every word, "at the wery instant of time, by the glass, that Serjeant Quacco there mended the fire."

"Oh—oh—oh!"—Here all hands of the rogues who were in the secret, began again to roll about and grimace, as if a travelling menagerie of baboons had suddenly burst, and capsized its inmates all about. Quacco all this while was twisting and turning himself, and, although evidently in a deuced quandary, trying to laugh the affair off as a joke.

"Well," at length said he, "I don't believe in fetish—now dat I is among whiteman Christian. So I will tank you, Massa Draining, to hand me over my chocolate."

But I noticed that the devil a drop would he take into his mouth, although he made believe to drink it. The jest went on—at length there was a calm, when who should again break ground but Serjeant Quacco—who made a last attempt to laugh off the whole affair.

"But where de debil can he be?" said he, almost involuntarily—"gone, sure enough."

"Oh—oh—oh—" sung out all hands once more, with their fists stuck into their midriffs.

"Oh, that vile fetish," screamed Lennox; "we must all be bewitched—Quacco, we are all bewitched.'"

"Bewitch!" responded the black Serjeant, jumping off the deck, and now at his wit's end; "and I believe it is so. I hab pain in my tomak too—just dis moment—oh, wery sharp!"

"Confound your fetish," groaned the old cook; "it was just as you stuck those chips of cedarwood into the fire—precisely at the wery moment I snuffed the delicious smell of them, that I saw the devil himself first put his ugly fiz up in the middle of the peas-soup, and gibber, and twinkle his eyes, and say"——

"Say!" shouted Lennox—"why did he really and truly speak, Mr. Drainings?"

"Speak!" responded he of the slush bucket—"speak! ay, as plain as I do now."

"And what said he?" quoth Dogvane.

"Why, just as he shook off the spray from the barb at the end of his tail, says he—'Damme, I'm off,' says he."

"Oh, oh, oh! I am pinned through my ground tier with a harpoon," groaned Drainings.

"Where, in the devil's name, since we have seen him, got you those cedar chips, Quacco?" yelled old Clinker.

A light seemed to break in on the poor Serjeant's bewildered mind. "Chip, chip!—where I get dem chip?" Here the poor fellow gave an idiotic laugh, as if he had been all abroad. "I get dem from Corporal Lennox, to be sure,"—and he turned his eyes with the most intense earnestness towards the marine, who was rolling about the deck over and over.

"Where got I the chips, did you ask, Quacco? Oh, oh, oh!—Why, Heaven forgive me—but I am punished for it now—they are the very splinters of your fetish, that you brought on board!"

Up started the black resetter as if bit by a rattlesnake, dancing and jumping, "Oh, my tomack, oh, my tomack!—de fetish have get into my tomack—de leetle debil in a my tomack. Oh, doctor, doctor!—one evil spirit in me—oh, doctor, someting to make him fly—someting to get him out! Doctor, de debil in a my belly—physic—physic, doctor; de strongerer de more betterer. Oh Lord!" And away he tumbled down the fore-hatchway, roaring for Esculapius like a perfect bull of Bashan.

While we were laughing at this to our heart's content, Mr. Marline came aft to us. "There are a good many dark specks passing and repassing above us in the furthermost reach of the river, yonder, sir—as far as you can see there, sir. Will you please to look at them, Mr. Sprawl?"

Sprawl took a long squint first, and then handed the glass to me. I peered, and peered. The glorious stream was rolling down like a shining flow of quicksilver; but although all continued quiet in our vicinity, yet, where it narrowed nearly to a bright point in the distance above, I could perceive a tiny dark object slowly descend the river, and send up a thick cloud of smoke, after which it remained stationary, while a number of small black spots were seen cruising hither and thither all around it.

Sprawl had also noticed this. "Why, Brail, those gentry seem mustering in some strength. There cannot be many fewer than a hundred canoes paddling about there. What say you?"

It was now near three, P.M., and we were bethinking ourselves of going to dinner, when a perfect cloud of the dark specks, fifty at the least, began to drop down with the ebb in a solid phalanx, looking in the distance like a compact black raft of wood. Presently they sheered off right and left; and although the craft from which we had seen the smoke arise, still remained at anchor in the stream, the attendant canoes vanished, one and all, amongst the mangroves, on either bank. "Poo—nonsense!" said Dick Lanyard. "Come along, Sprawl—come along. Why, man, we shall get as thin as whipping-posts, if we allow these barbarian demonstrations to interfere with our comforts."

"You may be right, my boy—you may be right," said old Davie; but he appeared to have some strange misgivings.

However, we went to dinner; the reefers were all with us, little Joe Peake among the rest, who was now quite recovered from the thump he had got on shore, and old Pumpbolt; and we were in the very middle of it, when down came Wadding, the gunner.—"Beg pardon, sir," said the old seaman, sidling in, and trying to appear at his ease, although he was very far from that same. "Beg pardon—but them chaps are coming more nearer, sir, than seems quite convenient—they are fast dropping down with the afternoon's ebb, sir."

"Indeed!" said old Sprawl, "We must keep a bright look-out here, Brail, at any rate."

We went on deck, and the report was literally true; but although the mass above us continued to increase until the whole surface of the river in the distance seemed swarming, as one has seen a pool with those blue water-insects which, I believe, as boys, we used to call sailors, still there was no warlike demonstration made, beyond the occasional descent of a fast-pulling canoe now and then, a mile or so below the main body. But they were always very easily satisfied in their reconnoitring, so far as we could judge, for the whole of them kept a wary distance.

We returned to the cabin for half an hour, and having finished off with a caulker of good cogniac, all hands of us once more came on deck.

It was now half-past four, and low water as near as could be. The bar astern of us—by this time the breeze having taken off, we were riding to the ebb—was one roaring ledge of white breakers; but it was smooth water where we lay, the fall of the tide having completely broken the heave of the heavy swell that rolled in from the offing on the bar. The clouds had risen over the land, some large drops of rain fell, and altogether we had strong prognostications of a wet, if not a tempestuous evening.

The declining sun, however, was yet shining brightly; and although, calculating on the average at this season hereabouts, one might have made himself almost sure of a fine evening, yet the present was an exception, and we had every appearance of a thunderstorm.

All nature seemed hushed; the thick clouds that arose in the east, sailed along on the usual current of the trade-wind with their edges as well defined as if it had been a dark screen gradually shoving up and across the arch of the blue empyrean; this gloomy canopy crept on and on, and as it overlapped us and stole down the western horizon, every thing assumed a deep dusky purple hue.

In the sudden darkness, the fires glanced bright and red on board of three war-canoes, that had now been suddenly advanced down the river in the shape of a triangle, the headmost being within a mile of us. Presently, the sable curtain descended within a very few degrees of the western horizon, until there was only a small streak of bright golden sky between it and the line of the land; in the centre of which the glorious sun, now near his setting, shot his level beams of blood-red light over the river and its banks, and the trees that grew on them, gilding the dark sides of the canoes; and as he sank, his last rays flashed up into the black arch overhead, until the dark masses of cloud glowed like crimson.

This soon faded—the clouds gradually sinking in the west, until, as if their scope had been expended, they lifted from the eastern horizon majestically slow—like a magnificent curtain drawn up in order to disclose the glorious moon, which now, preceded by her gemlike forerunner the evening star, that sparkled bright and clear on the fringe of the ascending cloud, rose above the low swampy banks, like a diamond on the skirt of a sable velvet mantle.

Her disk, when she first appeared, was red and dim, until she attained a considerable altitude, when, having struggled through the pestilential effluvia that hovered over the river, she began to sail through her liquid track in all her splendour—pale, but oh, how crystal clear!—driving, like a queen, the dark vapours before her.

As the night wore on, the congregation of canoes became thicker, and presently something like a raft floated down to within three quarters of a mile of us, accompanied by five large boats, full of people.

It was clearly distinguishable, from a bright halo of luminous smoke that hovered over it, proceeding from a fire that every now and then blazed up on board. By the time the raft was anchored, the evening breeze came strong down the river, wafting towards us the sounds of African drums, blended with dismal yells, as of captives, and loud fierce shouts.

I directed my glass towards the name, that was flashing fitfully, as if tar or rosin, or some other equally inflammable substance, had been suddenly cast into it.

"What can that be?" said I, to young De Walden, who was also spying away at the same object, close to where I stood.

"Really," said the very handsome boy, "I cannot well tell, but I will call Serjeant Quacco, sir. He knows all the practices of the savages hereabouts."

"No, no," rejoined I; "never mind—never mind; but what can they be doing there on the raft? I see two uprights about five feet asunder, and judging from the dusky figures that are cruising about them, and the fire that is kindled beneath, as it were between them, they should be about eight feet high above the raft on which they are rigged. What are they after now? Two fellows sitting on men's shoulders, are fixing a cross piece, or transom, on the top of the uprights—now they are lashing it to them tightly with some sort of rope—ah, they descend, and the fire seems to have gone out, for every thing is dark again."

All in the neighbourhood of the raft was now undistinguishable, but small red fires began to burn steadily in the three advanced canoes.

"What next?" said Sprawl.

"Oh, I suppose, having set their piquets for the night, we are safe." And I took the glass from my eye, and banged the joints of it one into another, when De Walden spoke.

"Please look again, sir—please look again." I did so. The gibbet sort of erection that I had been inspecting, was now lit up by a sudden glare of bright crimson flame. The dark figures, and the bows and sides of the attendant canoes, and the beams of the gallows-looking machine itself, were all tinged with a blood-red light, and presently the sound of the Eboe drums and flutes was borne down on the night-wind with startling distinctness, and louder than before, drowning the snoring of the toads, and chir-chir-chirring, and wheetle-wheetling of the numberless noisy insects that floated off from the bank on either side of us.

"What is that—do you see that, Master de Walden?" said I, as a dark struggling figure seemed to be transferred by force from one of the canoes that showed a light into a smaller one. De Walden could not tell—and the small skiff into which, whatever it was, it had been transhipped, gradually slid away, apparently in the direction of the raft, into the impervious darkness that brooded over the river, above the three advanced canoes with the watch-fires.

I was about resigning the glass once more, when I noticed the raft again suddenly illuminated, and a great bustle among the people on board. Presently a naked human being was dragged under the gallows, and one arm immediately hoisted up, and fastened by cords to one of the angles—a black figure, who had perched himself astride on the cross beam, evincing great activity on the occasion.

For some purpose that I could not divine, the fire was now carried by a group of savages from the foremost part of the raft, that is, from the end of it next us, to the opposite extremity beyond the gibbet, the immediate effect of which was to throw off the latter, and the figure suspended on it, as well as the persons of the people who crowded round, in high relief against the illuminated night damps lit up by the fire, that hung as a bright curtain or background beyond it. In a few seconds, the other arm was drawn up to the opposite corner: and—my blood curdles as I write it—we could now make out that a fellow-creature was suspended by the wrists from the corners of the gibbet, directly under the centre of the beam, as if the sufferer had been stretched on the cross.

The fire increased in intenseness—the noise of the long drums, and the yells of the negroes, came down stronger and stronger; and although I could notice two assistants holding the legs of the suspended figure, yet its struggles seemed to be superhuman, and once or twice I said to young De Walden, "Heaven help me—did you hear nothing?"

"Nothing particular, sir, beyond the infernal howling and drum-beating of these monsters."

A pause—then another terrible convulsion of the suspended victim, as it struggled to and fro with the dark figures that clung to its lower limbs like demons.

"There—heard you nothing now?"

"Yes, sir—oh, yes," gasped my young ally—"such a yell!"

"Oh, may my ears never tingle to such another!" groaned I; and as I spoke, the assistants let go their hold on the suspended victim, when—Heaven have mercy on us! horror on horror—one of the lower limbs had been extracted, or cut out from the socket at the hip joint. The struggles of the mutilated carcass continued. Quacco, hearing his name mentioned by the young midshipman, was now alongside of me. I handed him the glass, which it was some time before he could manage. At length, having got the focus, he took a long, long look—he held his breath.

"What is it?" said I, "what dreadful scene is this? For Heaven's sake, serjeant, tell me what is going on yonder?"

He puffed out his breath like a porpoise, and then answered me as coolly as possible, as if it had been no strange sight to him. "Fetish, massa—grand fetish dem make—such fetish as dem make before dem go fight wid one enemy."

"But what was the figure we saw hoisted up on the gibbet-looking apparatus just now?" said I.

"Can't tell," rejoined Quacco, "can't really tell, massa; at first I taught it was man—but dat cry—so wery bitter and sharp like one knife—no, I tink it must have been woman."

"Almighty powers! Do you mean to say that the figure hung up between us and the fire is really and truly a human being?"

"I do," said Serjeant Quacco, with the same sang froid; "I do, massa. What you tink it was?"

I could not tell—I thought at one moment it was a fellow-creature, and at another that it must be impossible, notwithstanding all the hideous tales I had heard of the doings on this coast; but the truth, the horrible truth could no longer be concealed.

"It is only one man or woman prisoner dat dem are cutting in pieces, and trowing into de river." Here I saw with my glass that the other leg of the victim had been severed from the trunk. "But I sall tell you, dat dem intend to attack you dis wery night."

I heard him, but was riveted to my telescope. All struggles had ceased in the dark and maimed carcass, and presently one of the arms was cut away at the shoulder, when the bloody limb fell against the post on one side, and the mangled trunk banged against the upright on the other, and swung round and round it, making the whole engine reel; while, as the drums and shouts grew louder and louder, the other arm was also cut off at the elbow, and down came the mutilated trunk of the sacrifice into the middle of the fire, which for a moment blazed up, and shot forth showers of sparks and bright smoke, then rapidly declined, and in half a minute it was entirely extinguished.

The fires in the advanced boats were now all put out, and nothing evinced the neighbourhood of our dangerous enemy; while the lovely moon once more looked forth on us, her silver orb reflected on the arrowy streams of the dark river, in a long trembling wake of sparkling ripples, and all was as quiet as if she had been smiling on a scene of peace and gentleness.

To what peculiarity in my moral composition it was to be attributed I do not know, but the change from the infernal scene we had just witnessed to the heavenly quietude of a lovely night had an instantaneous, almost an electrical effect on me; and, wounded and ill at heart as I was, I could not help looking up, out and away from my grovelling condition, until in fancy I forgot my miserable whereabouts, and only saw the deep blue heaven, and its countless stars, and the chaste moon.

"Hillo, Benjie Brail," shouted friend Davie—"where away, my lad? Come back to mother earth"—("alma mater tellus," said a voice near me—Corporal Lennox for a thousand, thought I)—"my dear boy, the bright sky overhead, that I make no doubt you are apostrophising so poetically, will soon be shrouded by that brooding mist there—never doubt me."

He augured rightly; for, in a little, a thick haze did in very deed begin to mantle over the water, and continued to increase until the glorious planet and bright stars were again obscured, and you could scarcely see the length of the felucca.

Quacco's hint, however, was by no means thrown away on us; we immediately saw all clear to give our savage neighbours a warm reception, should they venture down under cover of the fog.

We had been some time at quarters, the boats astern having been hauled up alongside, lest, in the fog, some of the canoes might venture near enough to cut the painters. But every thing continued so quiet and still, that we were beginning to consider our warlike preparations might not altogether have teen called for.

"I say, Sprawl," said I—"Poo, these poor creatures will not venture down on us; especially after the lesson they had yesterday?"

"Don't trust to that, Brail, my good boy," said Davie.

"No, massa, don't you trust to dat, as Massa Prawl say," quoth Quacco—"I know someting—ah, you shall see." Here the poor fellow crept close up to Dick Lanyard, "Captain—if you love sleep in one skin hab no hole in him—if, massa, you walue de life of dem sailor intrust to you—ill-bred fellow as dem may be—let no one—no—not so mosh as de leetle dirty cook-boy—shut him eyelid until to-morrow sun melt de fog, and"——

Something dropped at my foot, with a splintering sort of sound, as if you had cast a long dry reed on the deck. "What is that?" said I.

"Will you be convince now?" said Quacco, slowly and solemnly. "Will Massa Brail,"—turning to me, and handing a slender wand, about ten feet long—"will good Massa Brail be convin"——

Spin—another arrow-like affair quivered in the mast close beside us. It had passed sheer between the first lieutenant and me.

"Ah, ah, ah!" exclaimed Quacco in a mighty great quandary—"dere is anoder—anoder spear—mind, gentlemen—mind, gentlemen, mind, or a whole feet of war-canoe will be aboard of you before you can look round."

"Men!" shouted Lanyard, "keep a bright lookout; there are native canoes cruising all about us, and close to, in the thick mist there. Peer about, will ye? Small-arm men, stand to your tackling—clear away both guns. Hush—what is that?"

"Nothing," said Sprawl—"I hear nothing but the rushing of the river, and the groaning and rubbing of the boats alongside against the gunwale."

"But I do," said Pumpbolt.

"And so do I," said Mr. Marline. "There is the splash of paddles as plain as can be—there"——

"Where?" said De Walden.

"There," said Binnacle—"there;" and, at the very instant, I saw the dark prow of one canoe emerge from the fog, the after-part being hid under the thick, but moon-illumined haze. Presently another appeared close to her, but less distinctly; both assuming a wavering and impalpable appearance, like two large fish seen, one near, and the other farther off, in muddy water.

"Mr. Marline, fire at that fellow nearest us."

The moment the musket was discharged, the canoe backed into the fog again, but we could plainly hear the splash and whiz of a number of paddles rapidly plied, as if in great alarm. But even these sounds soon ceased, and, once more, all was still. For half an hour after this, all hands remained on the qui vive, but the silence continued unbroken; so, after seeing the lookouts all right, Sprawl, Pumpbolt, and myself (as for Lanyard he would not leave the deck) went below to have a snack of supper, preparatory to making a start of it, if it were possible, whenever the swell on the bar was quieter.

"Tol lol de rol," sung ould Davie Doublepipe. "Oh Benjie Brail, Benjie Brail, are we never to get out of this Styx—out of this infernal river? What say you, Pumpbolt, my man?"

"I'll tell you more about it," said Pumpbolt, "when we have got some grub. But what Sir Oliver has done, or how he has managed without me, for these two days past, is a puzzler."

"Ah, bad for you master," said I. "He will find he can do without you—should not have given him the opportunity, man."

"No more I should—no more I should," responded the master.

So we set to our meal, and were making ourselves as comfortable as circumstances admitted, when Binnacle trundled down the ladder in red-hot haste.

"The canoes are abroad again, sir—we hear them close to, but the fog is thicker than ever."

"The devil!" said I; and we all hurried on deck.

Imminent peril is a beautiful antisoporitic, and we found all hands at quarters of their own accord—the devil a drum need to have been beaten.

"Where do you hear them—where is the noise you speak of?" said Sprawl.

"Here, sir," said one man—"Here, sir," said another—and "Here," exclaimed a third, all indicating different points of the compass.

It was clear our enemies were clustering round us in force, although the fog was absolutely impervious at a distance of ten paces.

"I say, master," said Sprawl, "the bar should almost be passable now for a light craft like this?"

"Certainly," said Pumpbolt, "I make no doubt but it is; and if this cursed mist would only clear away, I would undertake to take the Midge, were she twenty tons bigger, slap across it, and pledge my credit she should clear it as sound as a bell; for we have a noble moon, and Brail there is quite confident about the river; besides, I took the bearings of the westernmost channel with the eastern point this very morning. No fear, if it would but clear. See if the moonshine has not made the fog quite gauzelike, as if it were bright and luminous of itself—Oh that it would rise!"

The four little reefers were at this moment clustered forward, close to me; we were riding with our head up the river, and I saw one or two old hands alongside of them, all looking out, and stretching their necks and straining their eyes in a vain attempt to pierce the fog.

"What is that?"—It was a greasy cheep, and then a rattle, as if a loose purchase or fall had suddenly been shaken, so as to make the blocks clatter, and then hauled taught, as if people were having a pull at the boom-sheet of a schooner, or other fore-and-aft rigged vessel.

"What is that, indeed?" said Sprawl. "Why, look there—look there, Lanyard—see you nothing there?"

"No, I see nothing—eh—faith, but I do—why, what is that?—Stand by, small-arm, men—go to quarters the rest of ye—quick—Poo, it is simply a thicker wreath of mist, after all."

Pumpbolt was standing by, but the object that we thought we had seen descending the river was no longer visible, and I began to think it was fancy. Suddenly the mist thinned.

"There is the spectre-like object once more," I shouted. "By all that is portentous, it is a large schooner, one of these slaving villains, who thinks he can steal past us under cover of the mist—There—there he is on our quarter—there are his royal and gaff topsail over the thickest of the fog—now his jib is stealing out of it."

"Clear away both guns there," sung out the fourth lieutenant. "We shall give him a rally as he passes, if he won't speak."

The strange sail continued to slide noiselessly down the river.

"What vessel is that?"—No answer—"Speak, or I will fire into you."—All silent—"Take good aim, men—fire!"

Both cannon were discharged, and, as if by magic, the watery veil that had hid every thing from our view rose from the bosom of the midnight river, and hung above our mast-head in a luminous fleecy cloud, which the moonbeams impregnated, but did not pierce, being diffused by it over the whole scene below in a mild radiance, like that cast by the ground glass globe of a sinumbra lamp—and disclosing suddenly the dark stream above and on each side of us, covered with canoes within pistol-shot; while the large schooner that we had fired into, instead of making demonstrations to escape over the bar, now shortened sail, and bore up resolutely across our bows, firing two guns and a volley of small arms into us in passing.

"We are beset, Lanyard—that chap is the commander-in-chief. His object is not to escape, but to capture us, my lad—take my word for it," cried Sprawl. "Forward, master, and look out for the channel—Lanyard, I recommend you to let Brail take the helm—I will mind the sails."

"True enough, by Jupiter," sung out old Dick. "Knock off from the guns, men—Shavings, stand by to cut the cable—hoist away the sail there—cant her with her head to the eastward—steady, men, and no rushing now. All ready there forward?"

"All ready, sir."

"Cut away, then."

The clear axe glanced bright and blue in the moonlight, and fell twice in heavy gashing thumps, and the third time in a sharp trenchant chip. The next moment the rushing of the rapid stream past our sides ceased, as the little vessel slowly floated away, attaining gradually the velocity of the river in which she swam. Presently round she came.

"Hoist away, foresail and mainsail—hoist—haul aft the sheets."

The breeze freshened at the moment. We were still about a mile from the bar, on which the swell was breaking in thunder; but we had run clear of the skirts of the mist, and the placid moon was again shining crystal bright overhead. The yells from the canoes increased. A volley of spears were lanced at us, several of which fell on board, but none of them did any injury; and several muskets were also fired from the tiny men-of-war, which were equally innocuous. The strange sail was right in our path.

"What shall we do?" sung out old Pumpbolt from forward.

Trusting to the great strength of the Midge, Lanyard shouted—"Plump us right aboard of him, if you can't do better; but creep under his stern, if you can. So starboard, Brail—starboard—steady—that will do."

"Steady," I replied; but he would not give us the opportunity, for as he saw us booming along, apparently aiming at him right amidships, as if we had thought we could have sawn him in two, the youth bore up, and stood right for the bar.

"So, so," quoth Davie Doublepipe—"we are away on a party of pleasure together, I perceive, señor?"

We carried on, but the Don, from superior sailing, kept well on our bow; and we were now, as we could judge from the increasing roar of the breakers, rapidly approaching the river's mouth.

At this time we had a distinct view, not only of our formidable antagonist, a large topsail schooner, and apparently full of men, but of the bar which we were about to pass, in such uncomfortable fellowship.

The canal of deep water that our steady and most excellent master aimed at, was about fifty yards wide. In it there was depth enough to allow the swell from without to roll in, clear and unbroken, had it not been met by the downward current of the river, aided, as in the present case, by the land-breeze, which made it break in short foam-crested waves.

We carried on. All firing for the moment was out of our craniums on either side.

"Do you see your marks now, Mr. Brail—there in the clear?" cried the master.

"Yes; I have the two trees on with the hummock—we are running straight as an arrow for the channel."

"Steady then," sung out the old master.

"Steady," I returned once more.

On the right hand and on the left the swell was by this time breaking in thunder, flashing up in snowflakes, and sending up a misty drizzle into the cold moonlight sky; but the channel right a-head was still comparatively quiet.

The schooner made an attempt to luff across our bows.

"Aim at him again," sung out old Bloody Politeful. "Aim at him again, Lanyard; to heave-to here is impossible."

"Boarders, stand by," cried Lanyard; but he once more, as we approached him, kept away.

We were now actually on the bar. The noise was astounding—deafening. The sea foamed and raged, and flew up in mist, and boiled in over our decks on either hand, as if we had been borne away in some phantom ship, that floated on white foam instead of water; while, in the very channel we were running through, the heave of the sea from without was met by the rush of the stream downwards, and flashed up in numberless jets of sparkling water, which danced about in the moonlight, and curled, and hissed, and vanished, as if they had been white-shrouded, unreal midnight spectres. We ran on, the strange sail on our lee-beam.

"Now is your chance," shouted old Pumpbolt; "jam him down against the long reef there—up with your helm, Mr. Brail."

"Ease off the sheets," chimed in the first lieutenant. "Handsomely, men—handsomely."

In an instant our broadsides were rasping.

"Starboard—shove him down, Mr. Brail!" again shrieked the master; "hard-a-weather—keep her away, and ram him on the reef there, or let us board him—time enough to luff when he strikes."

I was fully alive to all this. The whole scene was now brightly lit up by the glorious moon, and we could perfectly see what we were about. We sheered close aboard of the schooner.

"Fire, small-arm men—boarders, be ready."

He still eschewed the combat, however, and kept off the wind also. A bright rainbow was at this moment formed by the moonbeams in the salt spray—the blessed emblem of peace and forgiveness—here! thought I, even in that overwhelming moment. Yes; the bow of the Immutable, of Him who hath said, "My ways are not like your ways!" spanned the elemental turmoil, the scene of the yet more fearful conflict of man's evil passions, in a resplendent arch, through which the stars sparkled, their bright rays partaking of the hues through which they shone. Oh, it was like the hope of mercy breaking through, the gloom, and sanctifying, if it could not still, the troubled heavings of a sinner's deathbed!

"A good omen—a glorious omen!" shouted young de Walden in the excitement of the moment.

"Jam her on the reef!" again yelled the master.

I did so. Crash—the schooner struck. Her foremast bent forward like a willow wand, the cordage and blocks rattling, and then went over the bows like a shot. The next sea broke over her in smoke, and hove her broadside on upon the reef—another shock, and the mainmast was lumbering and rasping over the sides. She now fell off with her broadside to the sea, which was making a fair breach over her; and while the cries of the unfortunates aboard of her rent the air, and it was clear she must instantly go to pieces, we all at once slid out of the infernal turmoil of dashing waves—"the hell of waters"—and rose buoyantly on the long smooth swell, that was rolling in from the offing. For a minute before not a word had been spoken by officers or men, all hands being riveted to the deck, looking out, and expecting every instant to see the vessel under foot driven into staves; but now, as each man drew a long breath, old Davie, with most unlooked-for agility, gave a spang into the air; and while he skiffed his old hat over the mast-head, as an offering to Neptune, the gallant little Midge bent to the freshening blast, like a racehorse laying himself to his work, and once more bounded exultingly "o'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea," as if the sweet little craft had been instinct with life, and conscious that she had once more regained her own proper element—the cloven water roaring at her bows, as the stem tore through it, like a trenchant ploughshare; and dashing it right and left into smoke, until it rushed past us in a white sheet of buzzing water, that spun away in a long straight wake astern; in the small yeasty swirls of which the moon and stars sparkled diamond-like, but of many hues, as if the surface of the ever-restless ocean had been covered with floating prisms.—"Hurrah—hurrah—we are once more in blue water!"^[1]

MURDER OF RICHARD LANDER.

(Official Despatch.)

"SIR—Admiral Warren having mentioned to me your wish, that any intelligence respecting the expedition on this coast might be addressed to you privately, I take the advantage of this communication to state, that on my arrival here this day from the Cape and Sierra Leone, I found Mr. Lander had died on the 2d instant of a wound in the thigh.

"Mr. Lander left here some time since for Cape Coast Castle, to procure boats, &c.; and having got one boat and two canoes, manned by four Englishmen, seventeen black men, and two boys, had proceeded up the Niger nearly to the town of Hiammock (about 100 miles). Confident of the friendship of the natives, he was tracking the boat along there near the turn of the river, and abreast of the island, which much narrowed the passage, when, at 2 P.m., on the 20th ultimo, the boat grounding, a heavy fire was opened from the bush on both sides, and from the island, which killed two men, and wounded himself with three others. A number of large armed canoes coming round the point at the same time, they were obliged to abandon the boat, take to the canoes, and make a running fight for four hours, in which they lost another Englishman, killed, and four blacks wounded—making a total of three killed, and eight wounded.

"He got to the Craven cutter, waiting at the mouth of the river, late in the afternoon of the 21st, arrived here on the 25th, and died on the 2d of this month.

"Mr. Lander estimated the parties that attacked him at from eight to ten thousand, all armed with swords or muskets—a number, no doubt, much exaggerated—and felt convinced, from the judicious position they occupied, that some Europeans were assisting, which, from the slavers being much opposed to the English, and any trade on the coast, is very probable.

"A Mrs. Brown (wife of an English merchant up the river), with her child, passengers, and a wounded black boy, were unavoidably left in the boat when she was abandoned; but Mr. Lander communicated with King Boy, who immediately sent about them, and had great hopes they would be returned uninjured. The loss to the company in arms, goods, &c. on the occasion is stated to be about L.450.

"I trust I have not troubled you with unnecessary details, and beg to remain, sir, your most obedient and humble servant,

"RICHARD MEREDITH,

"Commander of his Majesty's sloop Pelorus.

"Fernando Po, February 5, 1834.

"P.S.—Two vessels sail for England to-morrow morning. I send accounts by each. "R.M."

ANOTHER ACCOUNT.

The following is an extract of a letter from the agent to Lloyd's at Fernando Po, dated February 6, 1834:—

"You will be sorry to be informed of the death of Richard Lander, who left this place some weeks since in the Craven cutter, belonging to the company, taking with him a long-boat I let him have for the purpose. On his arrival at the Nunn, he left the cutter, and proceeded up the river in the boat with L.400 worth of goods, to join the iron steam-boat, which he had sent up a few weeks before. She was to proceed about 300 miles to a small island, which he had purchased from the king, and where he had a factory. They had proceeded about 100 miles up, the current being strong against them. They were in good spirits, tracking the boat along shore, when they were fired on from the bush. Three men were killed, and four wounded: Mr. Lander was of the latter. They had a canoe of their own, and at the time they were fired on, the boat was aground; and to save themselves, they were forced to leap into the canoe, and make the best of their way. They were immediately followed by five or six war-canoes full of men, keeping up a continued fire for five hours, until it got dark, when they lost sight of them. They arrived here on the 27th ultimo. Mr. Lander expired this morning. He wrote me a letter two days ago, requesting that I would take charge of the vessels and property of the African Inland Commercial Company, with which I accordingly complied. The ball entered near his hip, and worked down to the thick of the thigh. It was a most malicious and treacherous attack. Mr. Lander told me that there were Bonny, Brass, and Benin canoes; so that, from these circumstances, I am of opinion that some of the slavers, or other Europeans, have been the promoters of this murderous affair. Colonel Nicolls has forwarded a statement of the transaction to Government, and if proper steps are taken, the whole must be brought to light. Mr. Lander's clothes and papers are all lost. I have had a great deal of trouble with the expedition, and now it will be increased; but the value of Fernando Po, in all cases of difficulty, is incalculable, and I shall now communicate a little information relating to this island, and also to the slave trade. On New Year's day, at daylight, there were four vessels in sight, two brigs, and two small vessels, schooner rigged, in company with one of the brigs. One of them anchored, named the Renown of Liverpool, M'Nab, master, belonging to Sir John Tobin, three months' passage. Two hours afterwards the other brig and two small schooners anchored. They turned out to be his Majesty's brig Trinculo and two slavers, captured off the Gaboons, belonging to Prince's island, fifty-four slaves and a crew of fifteen men on board each. The slavers were surveyed by the officers of his Majesty's vessels the Curlew, Griffin, and Trinculo, and condemned as unfit to proceed to Sierra Leone. Captain Warren, son of Admiral Warren, wrote to Colonel Nicolls, on service, requesting him to allow the slaves to be landed here, which request was immediately complied with. The spectacle was horrible. There were several children that must have been torn from the breast, for when landed, it was found necessary to give them in charge to the women, to take care of. So much for Prince's island, that nest for piratical slavers. If Colonel Nicolls had three Government steamers under his control, he would put down the slave traffic on the coast in six months, by destroying their nests in the rivers. At present the Government vessels only cruise about, and pick up a slaver occasionally."

[1]Some weeks after the preceding chapters appeared in Blackwood, the following accounts of poor Lander's untimely fate reached England—melancholy vouchers for the truth of the descriptions contained in them:—